Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The air was thick with the scent of blood and burning wood, screams echoing in the distance as Lotus Pier’s boat cut through the dark waters.

The once-prosperous Wei Kingdom, a land thriving under the rule of Emperor Wei Changze and Empress Cangse Sanren, had been reduced to ruin overnight.

Betrayed by those they had trusted, the emperor and empress had fallen in a ruthless conspiracy—leaving their only son, the rightful heir, vulnerable to the same fate.

Jiang Fengmian held the small boy tightly against his chest, shielding him from the sight of the once-glorious palace now engulfed in flames.

“Shijie, Changze, I swear on my life, I will protect him,”
he murmured under his breath, his heart heavy with grief.

Nestled in his arms, Wei Wuxian was eerily silent.

Just hours ago, he had been laughing as his mother playfully tossed him into the air, his father ruffling his hair with warm affection.

Now, their warmth was gone. Forever.

His small hands clutched at Jiang Fengmian’s robes, his usually bright gray eyes dull with shock.

Madam Yu stood at the helm of the boat, her expression unreadable.

“Are you sure about this, Fengmian?”
she asked, her voice laced with something unspoken.

Jiang Fengmian nodded.

“He has no one left.
He’s too young to understand what has been taken from him, but when he does… he will need us.”

His voice softened as he glanced down at the child in his arms.

“We will raise him as our own.”

Madam Yu exhaled sharply but said nothing more.

They both knew this decision would change everything.

_________________

Wei Wuxian’s arrival at Lotus Pier was met with mixed reactions.

The servants whispered amongst themselves, the news of the Wei Kingdom’s fall spreading like wildfire.

Jiang Yanli, a gentle omega with warm brown eyes, peeked shyly from behind a pillar, her little hands clasped together.

Beside her, Jiang Cheng, an alpha only a year older than Wei Wuxian, scowled.

“I don’t like him,” Jiang Cheng declared.

Madam Yu’s lips twitched in amusement.

“You don’t even know him.”

“He looks weird.”

Jiang Yanli elbowed her brother gently.

“A-Cheng, be nice.”

At that moment, Jiang Fengmian stepped forward, placing Wei Wuxian down.

“This is A-Xian,” he introduced warmly. “He will be staying with us from now on. You will treat him like family.”

Wei Wuxian looked up at them, his small face blank. He had not spoken since they had fled the Wei Kingdom.

Jiang Yanli hesitated before stepping closer, offering a soft smile.

“Hello, A-Xian,” she greeted sweetly.

Jiang Cheng, stubborn as ever, crossed his arms but muttered a reluctant:

“Hi.”

Wei Wuxian blinked at them, then, after a long pause, finally opened his mouth.

“What’s for dinner?”

Madam Yu nearly dropped the teacup in her hand.

Jiang Fengmian let out a laugh, relieved beyond words.

________________

Life at Lotus Pier became lively with Wei Wuxian’s presence.

Though he had suffered a terrible loss, his cheerful nature slowly returned.

He quickly became an inseparable part of the Jiang family, growing up alongside Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng, calling Jiang Fengmian and Madam Yu shufu and sheniang.

But no matter how much time passed, the truth of his birthright was never forgotten.

Wen Qing, along with trusted members of the Wei Kingdom and Wei Wuxian’s maternal uncle, worked in the shadows—waiting for the day the young prince would be strong enough to reclaim his throne.

However, there was another memory tucked away in the depths of Wei Wuxian’s heart, one that had nothing to do with war or vengeance.

A memory of a doll.

—---

Four years ago, before the fall of the Wei Kingdom, the palace had been filled with joy and laughter.

The occasion? The 100-day ceremony of the newly born prince of the Lan Clan—
the first omega born to their royal bloodline in over a century.

Cangse Sanren, ever the free spirit, had arrived in the Cloud Recesses with Wei Changze and their young son in tow.

Wei Wuxian, only four at the time, had been more interested in exploring than in courtly etiquette.

Until he saw him.

Wrapped in the finest white silk, delicate features as perfect as a porcelain doll, lay baby Lan Wangji.

His tiny hands curled into fists, his golden eyes blinking drowsily at the world.

Wei Wuxian stared, utterly mesmerized.

He tugged at his mother’s sleeve.

“A-Niang, A-Niang!”
he whispered urgently.

Cangse Sanren laughed at his enthusiasm.

“What is it, A-Xian?”

He pointed at the baby, his eyes wide with wonder.

“I want that doll!”

The entire hall went silent for a moment—before an explosion of laughter erupted from the gathered nobles.

Lan Qiren, the ever-strict teacher of the Lan Clan, nearly choked on his tea.

Lan Xichen, only eight at the time, grinned at the scene.

Lan Wangji, unaware of the commotion he had caused, simply yawned.

Cangse Sanren’s eyes twinkled with mischief.

She turned to her close friend, Lan Wangji’s mother, and smirked.

“Well, well, looks like our sons are already fated.”

Lan Wangji’s mother chuckled.

“Perhaps when they grow older, they can be together?”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes lit up.

“Really?! Then I’ll take care of my doll forever!”

The two women laughed, their bond of friendship stronger than ever.

Neither could have known how true their playful words would become in the years to come.

_________________

Back in Lotus Pier, Wei Wuxian sat on the docks, his legs swinging as he gazed at the reflection of the stars in the water.

The memory of that day lingered in his mind, though he barely understood why it felt so important.

“A-Xian!”

Jiang Yanli called from behind.

“Come inside! Shijie made soup!”

Wei Wuxian grinned, pushing the memory aside.

He had a new family now—people who loved him.

But somewhere, deep in his heart, a tiny spark remained—

A promise made in innocence,
waiting for the day fate would call upon it once more.

___________________

The sun was beginning to set, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky as Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng sprinted through the halls of Lotus Pier, their laughter echoing through the corridors.

Their clothes were damp, evidence of their most recent mischief—diving into the lake despite Madam Yu’s strict warnings.

“I can’t believe you dragged me into this again,”
Jiang Cheng grumbled, shaking water from his sleeves.

Wei Wuxian smirked, nudging him with his shoulder.

“A-Cheng, don’t act like you didn’t have fun.
You were the one who dared me to catch fish with my bare hands!”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.

They had spent the entire afternoon racing through the training grounds, climbing trees, and finally ending their escapade with an impromptu swim in the lake.

They were supposed to be refining their sword techniques, but—
where was the fun in that?

As they turned a corner, they found themselves passing by the main garden.

A light breeze carried the scent of jasmine and freshly brewed tea.

It was peaceful—
a stark contrast to their wild energy.

But what caught their attention wasn’t the scenery—
it was the hushed voices drifting through the air.

Seated in the shaded pavilion were Jiang Fengmian and Madam Yu, their postures relaxed as they sipped their evening tea.

There was something different about their conversation, something that made Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng slow their steps.

They exchanged glances.

Curiosity sparked between them.

Without a word, they crept closer, hiding behind one of the garden’s thick pillars, their ears straining to catch the conversation.

“I have been considering Yanli’s marriage,” Jiang Fengmian said, setting down his teacup.

His voice was calm, yet thoughtful.

“She is of marriageable age, and I would prefer a match that ensures her happiness.”

Madam Yu sighed, adjusting the folds of her elegant robe.

“The girl is too softhearted. If we are not careful, she will be taken advantage of.
I will not have my daughter married off to some fool who does not treasure her.”

Jiang Fengmian nodded.

“That is why I have been keeping an eye on the Lan Clan.
Lan Xichen is well-educated, honorable, and from a noble bloodline.
He would treat Yanli with respect.”

Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng exchanged wide-eyed looks.

“Lan Xichen?” Jiang Cheng whispered.
“They’re considering Lan Xichen for Shijie?”

Wei Wuxian grinned.

“Well, it’s not a bad match. At least he’s handsome.”

Jiang Cheng smacked him lightly.

“This isn’t about looks, idiot.”

Their attention snapped back to the conversation as Madam Yu tapped her fingers on the table.

“If we are serious about this, we need an opportunity to observe him.
His character, his temperament.
We cannot decide based on reputation alone.”

Jiang Fengmian nodded.

“That is why I believe it is time for A-Cheng and A-Xian to visit the Lan Clan for their study conference.
It will allow them to broaden their knowledge while also giving us insight into Lan Xichen.”

The boys stiffened.

Jiang Cheng’s face darkened.

“We have to study at the Lan Clan? That place is suffocating!
Have you forgotten they have three thousand rules?”

Wei Wuxian bit his lip, suppressing laughter.

“Oh, come on, A-Cheng. Think of it as an adventure.”

Madam Yu sighed.

“Lan Clan is rigid with their discipline.
Sending Wei Wuxian there… are you certain that is wise?”

Wei Wuxian bristled.
Why does she always single me out?

Jiang Fengmian chuckled.

“It will be good for him.”

Madam Yu gave him a pointed look.

“Only if he does not cause trouble.”

Wei Wuxian puffed out his chest.
As if I would!

Then, just as they thought the conversation was ending, Jiang Fengmian spoke again—his voice softer, hesitant.

“And… there is another matter.”

Wei Wuxian leaned forward instinctively.

Creak.

Jiang Cheng elbowed him in panic as their hiding spot shifted.

Thankfully, their parents didn’t seem to notice.

“What is it?”
Madam Yu asked.

Jiang Fengmian exhaled.

“It is about A-Xian. Cangse Sanren made a promise before…”

He trailed off.

Wei Wuxian’s heart skipped.
A promise?
What promise?

But before Jiang Fengmian could continue, he glanced up—
and his eyes landed directly on Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng peeking from behind the pillar.

His brows lifted.
Madam Yu’s eyes narrowed.

“Wei Wuxian. Jiang Cheng,”
she called, her tone sharp.
“Come out.”

The boys winced.
Busted.

Sheepishly, they stepped forward.

Wei Wuxian rubbed the back of his neck, flashing his most innocent grin.

“Shufu! Sheniang! We were just… admiring the garden.”

Jiang Cheng elbowed him again.

“Don’t drag me into your lies.”

Madam Yu looked unimpressed.

“Eavesdropping is hardly admirable.”

Jiang Fengmian chuckled, motioning for them to sit.

“Since you are so curious, I will tell you what we were discussing.”

Wei Wuxian leaned forward eagerly.

“We have decided that you two will be attending the Lan Clan’s study conference.
It is a valuable opportunity for you to gain knowledge and discipline.”

Wei Wuxian groaned.

“Discipline?”

Jiang Cheng scowled.

“The Lan Clan? Why can’t we just study here?”

Madam Yu gave them a stern look.

“You will go, and you will behave.”

Jiang Fengmian smiled.

“It is also a chance for you to observe Lan Xichen.
We are considering him as a match for Yanli.”

Jiang Cheng frowned but nodded.

“Shijie’s happiness is what matters.”

Wei Wuxian smirked.

“So, I get to study and help Shijie? Sounds fun.”

Jiang Fengmian’s expression softened as he turned to Wei Wuxian.

“A-Xian, there was something else we were discussing, but…
it is not something you need to worry about.”

Wei Wuxian blinked.

“What was it?”

Jiang Fengmian hesitated, then shook his head.

“It was merely an old promise your mother made.
Nothing that concerns you now.”

Wei Wuxian frowned.
A promise his mother made? Why wouldn’t it concern him?

Still, Jiang Fengmian’s gentle yet firm tone made it clear—
he wouldn’t be getting any answers.

“Go and prepare. You leave in three days.”

Wei Wuxian sighed, but a spark of excitement danced in his eyes.

The Lan Clan, huh?
He had always been curious about their infamous rules.

Little did he know,
his visit to the Cloud Recesses would set into motion a fate long decided
before he was even born.

_________________

The moon hung high over Lotus Pier, casting a silver glow upon the still waters of the lake.

The gentle lapping of waves against the wooden docks created a soothing rhythm—
a melody that had become second nature to those who lived within the sect.

The air carried the faint scent of night-blooming jasmine, mingling with the salty mist from the nearby river.

Wei Wuxian stretched his arms lazily as he entered his quarters, the lingering dampness from his earlier escapades still clinging to his skin.

His room was spacious, decorated with simple yet elegant furnishings that reflected the taste of Lotus Pier—
dark wooden shelves lined with books, calligraphy scrolls hanging on the walls, and a sword stand near his bedside.

But what Wei Wuxian looked forward to the most was not his bed—
it was the adjacent bathing chamber.

---

Pushing open the ornately carved wooden doors, he stepped inside.

The room was dimly lit, illuminated only by a few glowing lanterns that cast soft, flickering shadows upon the walls.

The centerpiece of the chamber was the large bathing pool, its water constantly refreshed by a natural spring that flowed in from one side.

Steam rose gently from the surface, carrying the scent of calming herbs.

Lush green plants and delicate flowers adorned the perimeter of the room, their leaves rustling faintly as a breeze from the open windows passed through.

Along one side, a set of wooden racks held neatly folded robes and drying cloths, prepared for use after bathing.

Wei Wuxian exhaled, feeling the tension from the day ease as he undressed, peeling away his damp outer robes before stepping into the warm water.

The heat immediately relaxed his muscles, and he sank deeper into the pool, letting his lower back rest against the smooth stone wall.

With his eyes closed, he hummed softly to himself—
a nameless tune he had heard long ago,
perhaps from his mother.

The melody floated through the air, mingling with the sounds of rippling water and rustling leaves.

Just as he was beginning to drift into complete relaxation,
his sharp instincts kicked in.

A presence.

His eyelids fluttered open, his senses sharpening.

The stillness of the room was disrupted by a faint rustle, barely perceptible to the untrained ear.

A smirk curled on his lips.

So, you always choose the best moments to show up, huh?

Before he could say anything, a loud crash echoed through the chamber.

Wei Wuxian turned his head just in time to see a large shadowy figure plummet from above, colliding with the ground near the edge of the pool.

Water splashed from the impact, and a few petals from the nearby plants fluttered onto the surface.

A sharp laugh bubbled from Wei Wuxian’s lips as he shook his head.

“You really know how to make an entrance, don’t you?”

The figure on the ground stirred.

Within moments, the sleek black feathers of the hawk gave way to human flesh—
and where the majestic bird once lay, a man now crouched.

Dressed in deep black robes, Xue Yang lifted his head, a sharp grin stretching across his face.

His dark eyes gleamed with mischief as he dusted off his sleeves, seemingly unbothered by his unceremonious landing.

“I would’ve landed more gracefully,”
Xue Yang mused, tilting his head,
“but someone decided to place a tree in my way.”

Wei Wuxian chuckled.

“Excuses, excuses.”

Xue Yang’s gaze roamed over Wei Wuxian, still lounging in the water, steam curling around his form.

He smirked, resting his chin on his palm.

“You know, Young Master Wei, I must say… you have quite a nice body.”

Wei Wuxian arched an eyebrow, unbothered by the blatant teasing.

“Should I be flattered or concerned?”

With a quick motion, he reached out and grabbed the back of Xue Yang’s head, pulling him closer.

Their faces were mere inches apart as Wei Wuxian’s grip tightened—playfully, but with a warning.

“Enough fooling around, Xue Yang,”
he murmured, voice low but amused.
“Or should I have Uncle toss you into the lake next time you visit?”

Xue Yang stiffened at the mention of Wei Wuxian’s maternal uncle, his mischievous expression faltering for a split second—
before he cleared his throat.

“No need for threats, Young Master Wei.
I was merely appreciating the view.”

He straightened up, brushing imaginary dust from his robes.

Then his face took on a more serious expression.

“I came with news.”

Wei Wuxian leaned back again, interest flickering in his eyes.

“Oh? And what does the great Xue Yang have for me this time?”

Xue Yang’s grin widened, but there was a sharp edge to it now.

“It’s about Wen Ruohan.”

The playful atmosphere instantly darkened.

Wei Wuxian’s gaze hardened, his fingers trailing along the water’s surface.

“Go on.”

Xue Yang crossed his arms.

“He has grown arrogant, more so than usual.
He believes his rule is absolute, that no one dares to challenge him.

His forces are growing, and he has begun expanding his influence into minor sects.
Those who resist either submit… or disappear.”

Wei Wuxian listened in silence, his expression unreadable.

Xue Yang tilted his head.

“How long do you plan to let him sit on your throne?”

A smirk ghosted over Wei Wuxian’s lips, but his eyes held a dangerous gleam.

He let out a soft chuckle—though there was no humor in it.

“Let him enjoy his illusion of power for a little longer.
The higher he climbs, the harder he will fall.”

Xue Yang’s grin mirrored his—sharp and cruel.

“You have a plan?”

Wei Wuxian nodded slowly, fingers clenching into a fist beneath the water.

“Wen Ruohan won’t even see it coming.
By the time he realizes the trap, it will already be too late.”

Xue Yang gave a low, appreciative whistle.

“I like it when you talk like that.”

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes.

“And I like it when you leave after delivering your message.”

Xue Yang laughed.

“Alright, alright. I’ll take my leave.”

He took a step back—before his form began shifting, feathers sprouting where skin once was.

Within seconds, the black hawk once again took flight, its wings flapping powerfully as it soared through the open window and disappeared into the night.

Wei Wuxian remained in the water for a few moments, the ripples settling around him.

His expression turned solemn as he stared at his reflection.

His fingers twitched, gripping the edge of the pool.

“Soon,”
he whispered to himself.
“Soon, I will place Wen Ruohan’s head before my parents’ ancestral shrine.”

The night wind blew softly through the open windows,
carrying his words into the darkness.

________________

The early morning light filtered through the sheer curtains of the Jingshi, casting soft golden hues across the pristine white walls.

A gentle breeze carried the scent of blooming lotuses from the nearby pond, making the air crisp and refreshing.

Everything was serene—
untouched by the chaos of the outside world.

In the heart of this tranquility, Lan Wangji lay peacefully on his bed, his breath slow and even, his face relaxed in slumber.

His long dark lashes cast delicate shadows on his pale cheeks, and his loose night robes draped elegantly over his form.

He was the very image of ethereal beauty—
a jade statue brought to life.

Suddenly,
a tickling sensation brushed against his cheek.

His brows faintly furrowed.
His nose twitched.
His lips parted slightly.

The sensation returned—something soft and warm pressing against his skin.

His fingers twitched beneath the silk covers.
His long lashes trembled as his consciousness slowly surfaced.

Lan Wangji’s golden eyes fluttered open.

Blinking a few times, adjusting to the morning light,
he turned his head slightly—

and was met with the sight of two small, fluffy white rabbits sitting on his pillow.

One of the rabbits was pressing its tiny nose against his cheek,
while the other sat primly, staring at him with round, dark eyes.

As if sensing he was finally awake,
both rabbits twitched their ears and nuzzled closer to him.

A soft, rare smile bloomed on Lan Wangji’s lips.

His entire expression softened,
and his ethereal beauty seemed almost otherworldly in that moment.

Reaching out, he gently scooped up the little creatures in his arms, cradling them with care.

He sat up slowly,
his long dark hair cascading over his shoulders
as he adjusted his slipping sleeve.

“You two…”
he murmured, his voice still laced with sleep.

His fingertips stroked the soft fur of one of the rabbits,
his movements delicate and full of affection.

“How did you enter?”

The rabbits wiggled in his arms, clearly enjoying the attention.

Lan Wangji smiled softly—another rare sight.

He continued murmuring to them,
his voice unusually gentle.

“Were you lonely?
Did you come to wake me up?”

One of the rabbits licked his palm in response,
making his lips quirk up slightly.

He was so absorbed in his interaction
that he didn’t immediately notice the arrival of two figures at his door.

“Hanguang-jun!”

Lan Weiqi’s loud voice shattered the peaceful atmosphere.

Lan Wangji did not flinch,
but the rabbits in his arms certainly did—both startled into twitching and wriggling at the sudden noise.

Lan Shiyun sighed as he followed closely behind, his expression more composed.

“Lan Weiqi, must you always be so loud in the morning?”

“I was excited!”
Lan Weiqi huffed, then turned to Lan Wangji, eyes gleaming.
“Hanguang-jun, good morning! It’s time for you to get dressed and—wait, are those the rabbits from the gardens?”

Lan Shiyun smiled gently at the sight.

“They must like Hanguang-jun very much to come all the way into the Jingshi.”

Lan Wangji nodded slightly, still cradling the rabbits.

He set them down carefully on the soft bedding before rising gracefully from the bed.

“Shall we prepare your bath, Hanguang-jun?”
Lan Shiyun asked.

Lan Wangji inclined his head in silent agreement.

While they went to ready the bathing chamber, Lan Weiqi excitedly rummaged through the wardrobe.

“Which robe should Hanguang-jun wear today? Something elegant? Something imposing? Ah, this one—”

“No, that one won’t match his ribbon,”
Lan Shiyun countered.

“I think it would look dignified!”

“It’s too formal for a regular morning meeting with Lan Qiren.”

Lan Wangji stood at the entrance of the bathing chamber, watching his two junior disciples bicker over his clothing choice.

His lips twitched slightly—an almost-smile—before he walked past them without a word.

—---

The bathing chamber was already prepared.

Steam rose from the warm water, and delicate rose petals floated on the surface.

The faint scent of fresh herbs and floral oils filled the air, adding to the calming ambiance.

Without hesitation, Lan Wangji stepped out of his night robes,
letting them slip off his slender frame.

His pale skin, smooth like polished jade, glowed under the soft light.

Lan Weiqi and Lan Shiyun,
having finally settled on a set of robes,
turned just in time to see Lan Wangji entering the water.

Their conversation paused.

The sight of Lan Wangji’s bare shoulders,
his flawless skin,
and the way the water lapped gently against his collarbone—

—it was truly a breathtaking view.

Even though they were used to seeing him every day,
there was something undeniably mesmerizing about his appearance.

Lan Weiqi cleared his throat dramatically.

“Hanguang-jun, you are so beautiful that even the moon might feel jealous.”

Lan Shiyun laughed softly.

“It’s true. I pity any Alpha who lays their eyes on Hanguang-jun.
They will surely struggle to keep their composure.”

A faint blush touched Lan Wangji’s ears,
but he remained silent,
cupping water in his hands and letting it trickle over his skin.

Lan Weiqi, sensing his shyness, grinned wickedly.

“Hanguang-jun, do you think your future Alpha will be able to resist touching you?

I mean, look at you.
If we, as Omegas, are already enchanted by your beauty—what will an Alpha do?”

Lan Wangji cleared his throat, his fingers tightening slightly around the rim of the bath.

“Enough.”

But Lan Weiqi and Lan Shiyun simply chuckled,
enjoying the rare opportunity to tease their normally reserved senior.

After thoroughly cleansing his body,
Lan Wangji allowed them to assist him in dressing.

The robe they had finally settled on was a pristine white garment
with delicate silver embroidery along the hems.

The fabric was light yet regal,
flowing elegantly over his form.

They arranged his long, dark hair,
pulling it back into a refined style
before handing him his forehead ribbon.

Lan Wangji tied it himself—
fingers steady as he looped the silk around his forehead with practiced grace.

Lan Weiqi and Lan Shiyun watched in awe.

“It’s unfair,” Lan Weiqi whispered.
“He’s too beautiful.”

Lan Shiyun nodded.

“If we didn’t know better, we’d say Hanguang-jun was a celestial being.”

Lan Wangji let out a soft sigh, shaking his head.

“Enough.”

They both quickly straightened up,
knowing they had pushed their teasing far enough for one morning.

Once fully dressed, Lan Wangji turned toward the door.

“I must visit Uncle.”

Lan Shiyun’s expression softened.

“Elder Lan must be waiting. He hasn’t had breakfast yet, has he?”

Lan Wangji shook his head.

“No.”

His fondness for his uncle was evident,
even in those quiet, clipped words.

Lan Weiqi grinned.

“Let’s not keep Elder Lan waiting then!”

With that, they exited the Jingshi—
the rabbits still resting peacefully on the bed,
waiting for their master’s return.

________________

The morning sun had fully risen, casting its warm golden glow over the Cloud Recesses.

The tranquil atmosphere, accompanied by the distant chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves, painted a picture of serenity.

Lan Wangji walked with steady steps toward his uncle’s residence, his white robes flowing gracefully with each movement.

His long dark hair was neatly tied, and his forehead ribbon rested perfectly in place.

Though his face was as calm and unreadable as always, his heart felt lighter this morning.

As he approached the entrance, he could already hear the muffled voices of his family members inside.

His brother’s warm chuckle.
His aunt’s melodious laughter.
And—his uncle’s unmistakable grumbling.

A rare warmth spread in Lan Wangji’s chest.

He stepped inside.

The moment his presence was noticed, the entire room seemed to brighten.

“Wangji!”

Before Lan Wangji could move, his aunt gracefully stood up from her seat and pulled him into a warm embrace.

Her fragrant scent, a mix of orchids and soft rain, enveloped him.

“Ah, my beautiful son,”
she murmured, cupping his face tenderly.
“You grow more and more handsome every day.”

Lan Wangji’s lips parted slightly, wanting to say something,
but his aunt wasn’t done doting on him yet.

She fussed over his robes, fixing an invisible wrinkle, before tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear.

Lan Qiren, who had also risen from his seat to greet his nephew, was left standing there, looking exasperated.

“Lao po,”
he grumbled, crossing his arms.
“Must you always steal my nephew away before I can even greet him properly?”

Qingyi merely raised an elegant brow, tilting her head playfully.

“Ah, but Wangji is my son.
I took care of him from birth.
Surely I get the first right to hold him?”

Lan Qiren turned to his nephew for support.

“Wangji, say something!”

Lan Wangji merely smiled,
his usually serious face soft with amusement.

“You should know by now that arguing with me is a lost cause, Qiren.”

Lan Xichen, sitting comfortably on one side of the room, laughed lightly.

“Uncle, you never win against Aunt. Why try?”

Lan Qiren sighed heavily and gave up.

“Hmph.”

Lan Wangji remained quiet, his expression composed, though his ears were faintly pink.
He had long grown used to the playful bickering between his aunt and uncle.

Qingyi, pleased with her small victory, finally let go of Lan Wangji and ushered him to sit beside her.

Lan Wangji’s uncle looked at him with gentle eyes.

“Wangji, have you been well? Do you need anything?”

Lan Wangji shook his head slightly.

“I am well, Shifu.”

Lan Xichen reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind his brother’s ear.

“Wangji, you must tell us if anything troubles you. We only wish for your happiness.”

Lan Wangji nodded, his heart warming at his family’s concern.

The conversation flowed naturally after that—
his daily routine, cultivation progress, the quiet moments of peace within the Cloud Recesses.

Lan Xichen, as always, was eager to pamper his younger brother.
Lan Qiren—though strict—ensured he was well cared for.

The warmth in the room was steady, comforting.

Until the inevitable topic arose.

“Speaking of Wangji’s future,” Qingyi mused, sipping her tea.
“It has been quite some time since we last spoke of his engagement.”

Lan Wangji’s fingers paused on the rim of his teacup.

He had always known he was engaged from birth.
His family had chosen his fiancé, and he had never questioned their decision.

After all, he trusted them completely.
Whoever they had chosen must have been the best match for him.

But the betrothal had ended in tragedy.

The young alpha had died only four years into the engagement.

Since then, his family had wanted to find him a new match.
A proper candidate.

Lan Wangji did not understand why his aunt and uncle were always so worried about his engagement.
Why they were so eager to see him married as soon as possible.

And yet—

He had never been particularly interested in the idea of marriage.

He loved his family.
The thought of leaving them—
Of living elsewhere—
Of being bound to someone he did not even know…

…it unsettled him in ways he couldn’t explain.

Lan Xichen, always attuned to his brother’s silence, smiled gently.

“Wangji, do not worry.
Your fiancé will be someone chosen with great care.
You will not be unhappy.”

Lan Wangji nodded slightly but remained silent.

His aunt chuckled knowingly.

“Wangji, I know you well enough. You secretly wish to stay by our side forever, don’t you?”

Lan Wangji’s ears tinged pink.
“…Mn.”

Lan Qiren, however, had a very different reaction.

With a little too much force, he set down his teacup and let out a gruff huff.

“Hmph. If only we could keep Wangji forever.”

Lan Wangji blinked, startled by the sentiment.

His aunt smirked.

“Oh, Qiren, you say that as if you don’t want to see Wangji’s children.
But we all know the truth.”

Lan Qiren grumbled under his breath—but he didn’t refute it.

Lan Wangji, now slightly shy, glanced between the two of them.
His children?

His aunt sighed wistfully.

“Ah… if only Wangji knew how much thought we’ve put into choosing his betrothed.
If he knew why it had to be this way…”

Lan Wangji lowered his gaze.
He had never asked why his family was so intent on marrying him off so soon.
He had simply accepted it—that when the time came, he would marry whoever they chose.

His aunt smiled gently.

“No need to rush things.
When the time is right, Wangji will get to choose his fiancé.”

Lan Qiren huffed again.

“That child better be someone deserving of Wangji.”

Qingyi laughed, leaning close to whisper in her nephew’s ear.

“Don’t listen to your uncle, Wangji. The truth is, he secretly wants to keep you with him forever.”

Lan Wangji tilted his head slightly but said nothing.

Sensing his lack of curiosity, Qingyi sighed with mock drama.

“Ah, Wangji, how can you not be curious?
Don’t you want to know why we’re in such a hurry?”

Lan Wangji shook his head quietly.

“I trust Shifu and Aunt’s decision.”

She stared at him for a moment, then sighed again—this time more tenderly.

“As expected of my serious and obedient son.”

Lan Xichen chuckled.

“Wangji has always been like this.
He follows the rules, trusts our elders’ judgment, and doesn’t question things easily.”

Lan Qiren nodded firmly, satisfied.

“A good trait.”

Qingyi shook her head, her smile both fond and tinged with sadness.

“You will know soon enough, Wangji.
And when you do, I hope you won’t be too surprised.”

Lan Wangji lowered his gaze, hiding the faint crease in his brows.

Something about his aunt’s words stirred a quiet unease in his chest—
a feeling he couldn’t name, but couldn’t ignore either.

It wasn’t just a marriage.
It felt… bigger.
Bound to something old.
Something decided long before he understood what such promises meant.

_________________

The sky was painted in soft hues of gold and pink as the sun began its slow descent, casting a warm glow over the docks.
The gentle lapping of water against the wooden pier echoed in the air, mingling with the occasional call of distant seabirds.

Two figures stood at the edge of the boat, their robes swaying slightly with the breeze.

“Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng,”

Jiang Fengmian’s steady voice brought their attention back to him.

“Remember, you are representing the Yunmeng Jiang Clan. The Lan Clan values discipline and rules above all. Behave yourselves.”

Jiang Cheng huffed, folding his arms.
“I always behave.”

Wei Wuxian grinned, draping an arm over Jiang Cheng’s shoulders.
“And I always behave… in my own way.”

Jiang Cheng shoved him off.
“Shut up! That’s exactly what I’m worried about!”

Madam Yu shot a sharp glare at Wei Wuxian.
“Brat, if I hear that you’ve embarrassed our clan, I won’t be so lenient.”

Wei Wuxian merely smiled.
“A-Yo, Madam Yu, you wound me. Don’t you trust me?”

“I trust that you’ll find trouble wherever you go.”
Madam Yu snorted, unimpressed.

Jiang Yanli giggled, stepping forward to adjust Wei Wuxian’s collar fondly.
“A-Xian, try not to get into too much trouble, alright?”

Wei Wuxian pouted.
“Not you too, Shijie. Where’s your faith in me?”

“I have faith that you’ll do whatever you set your mind to.”
Jiang Yanli smiled gently.

Wei Wuxian grinned, taking it as a compliment—
though Jiang Cheng muttered,
“That’s exactly the problem.”

Jiang Fengmian sighed but smiled slightly.
“The Lan Clan’s way of life is different from ours,
but you are not there to change them.
Learn from them, and in return, let them learn from you.”

His gaze softened.

“Both of you, take care of each other.”

Jiang Cheng nodded solemnly.

Wei Wuxian saluted playfully.
“Yes, sir!”

Madam Yu sighed, exasperated, but said nothing more.

Instead, she turned toward Jiang Fengmian, her expression unreadable.

___

As the boat prepared to set off, Jiang Fengmian and Jiang Yanli stepped back, giving them space.

The boatman called out,
“We’re departing now.”

Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng stepped onto the boat, feeling the slight shift beneath their feet as it started to move.

As the distance between them and the shore grew, Jiang Yanli raised a hand in farewell, her smile soft and warm.
“Safe journey!”

Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng waved back.

---

Madam Yu, who had remained silent for a while, suddenly stepped closer to her husband, resting her head lightly against his chest. Her voice was low, almost hesitant.

“I hope this trip will be good for them.”

Jiang Fengmian glanced at her in surprise.
“Yu-furen?”

She sighed, her gaze distant as she watched the boat drifting farther away.

“Wei Wuxian… that boy acts carefree, but he has carried a heavy burden since young.
He needs to experience more, to understand what he truly wants.”

Jiang Fengmian listened quietly.

Madam Yu’s fingers curled slightly.
“And… if fate allows, perhaps this will be a chance for him to know Lan Wangji.”

Jiang Yanli, standing beside them, let out a soft laugh.
“Mother, you sound as if you’re matchmaking them.”

Madam Yu shot her daughter a glance but did not deny it.
Instead, she admitted quietly,

“I heard about Lan Wangji from my informants.
He is intelligent, refined, and strong—
a perfect match for a stubborn troublemaker like Wei Wuxian.”

Jiang Yanli smiled knowingly.
“A-Xian is lively, while Lan Wangji is said to be reserved…
It’s true that opposites attract.”

Jiang Fengmian chuckled.
“So, my wife and daughter have taken it upon themselves to decide Wei Wuxian’s future?”

Madam Yu huffed.
“I’m merely hoping he finds someone who can keep him in check.”

“Mother, A-Xian is not a wild beast.”
Jiang Yanli giggled.

“Some days, I wonder,” Madam Yu muttered under her breath.

Jiang Fengmian watched the boat disappear over the horizon, his expression thoughtful.
“Let them grow, let them find their own paths.”

Jiang Yanli clasped her hands together, smiling.
“I have a feeling… this trip will be quite interesting.”

—-----

— On the Boat —

The boat rocked gently with the waves, the sails catching the wind as it glided smoothly across the water.

Jiang Cheng leaned against the railing, eyes fixed on the distant horizon.
“How long is this trip supposed to take?”

Wei Wuxian stretched lazily beside him.
“A few days, give or take. Depends on the weather.”

Jiang Cheng sighed.
“Great. Just what I need—days of being stuck on a boat with you.”

Wei Wuxian grinned, draping an arm around his shoulders.
“Come on, Jiang Cheng, don’t act like you’re not excited. We’re going to Gusu! Imagine all the fun we’ll have.”

Jiang Cheng scowled and shoved his arm off.
“Fun? In the Lan Clan? I doubt that.”

Wei Wuxian’s grin only widened.
“You lack imagination.”

Jiang Cheng groaned, rubbing his temples.
“Please, for the sake of my sanity, don’t embarrass us before we even step foot on their mountain.”

“I make no promises.”

“I knew it.”

They spent the rest of the evening watching the sunset, the sky fading from orange to a deep indigo before surrendering to the stars. The boat sailed on, steady and smooth, carrying them toward a place that would mark the beginning of everything.

Unbeknownst to them, in the quiet and orderly halls of the Cloud Recesses, Lan Wangji was preparing for bed—completely unaware that the person who would turn his life upside down was already on his way.

_______________

The Cloud Recesses stood before them—an expanse of mist-draped peaks and pristine white pavilions nestled in perfect harmony with nature. The air itself seemed to hold its breath, imbued with the quiet discipline of generations past. Even the wind whispered here, unwilling to disturb the silence.

Wei Wuxian had expected the journey to be uneventful, boring even. But the moment they crossed into Lan territory, something changed.

A prickling sensation crawled over the back of his neck.
Something was watching.

He stopped, glancing over his shoulder. The forest surrounding the path was dense, green and alive—but too quiet. The insects had fallen silent. The breeze that rustled the leaves felt intentional, like breath held in anticipation.

His gray eyes narrowed, darkening with instinct sharpened by years of hidden awareness.

“What’s wrong?” Jiang Cheng’s voice was low, wary. He, too, sensed the shift.

Wei Wuxian forced a grin, though it lacked its usual spark.
“Nothing. Thought I saw a bird.”

Jiang Cheng gave him a suspicious side-eye.
“A bird? Since when do you care about wildlife?”

“A-Cheng, you wound me,” Wei Wuxian drawled, tossing his head theatrically. “I have a deep appreciation for nature.”

“If by ‘appreciation,’ you mean disrupting it, then sure,” Jiang Cheng muttered, not relaxing.

Wei Wuxian laughed, but one of his fingers twitched against his thigh. The air wasn’t just wrong—it was charged.

And then—

A shadow streaked across the sky.

A piercing cry shattered the forest’s stillness. A massive hawk—its feathers black as ink—dove from the heavens, wings slicing the air like blades.

Wei Wuxian moved without thinking. His stance shifted, his fingers curled, as though reaching for something unseen—something not entirely of this world.

The hawk circled once.
Its golden eyes locked onto Wei Wuxian’s.

Then, with a powerful flap, it descended in a controlled spiral. Its talons struck the ground with a sound like thunder, and a dark ripple pulsed outward from the impact, stirring the dirt and stones.

Mist coiled around the creature’s form.

And when it cleared, the bird was gone.
A young man stood in its place, dark robes fluttering with residual energy.

Xue Yang.

His grin was all teeth and chaos.

Wei Wuxian lowered his hand, lips curling into a smirk.
“Well, well. If it isn’t my favorite little troublemaker.”

Xue Yang stretched lazily, his ever-present grin curling at the edges.
“You flatter me, Young Master Wei.”

His dark eyes flicked to Jiang Cheng before returning to Wei Wuxian, glinting with mischief.
“You’re later than I expected.”

Jiang Cheng scoffed, crossing his arms.
“Like we have time to cater to your schedule.”

But Wei Wuxian didn’t take his eyes off Xue Yang. The man was arrogant, reckless, and irritatingly playful—but he wasn’t stupid. If he’d risked meeting them this close to the Cloud Recesses, it meant something.

Something important.

“You usually don’t bother greeting me unless you have something interesting,” Wei Wuxian said, tilting his head.
“What is it this time?”

Xue Yang’s smirk widened, sharp as a blade.
“Wen Ruohan’s next move.”

Jiang Cheng immediately straightened.
“What about him?”

Xue Yang stepped closer, his voice dropping.
“He’s searching for something—or rather… someone.”

Wei Wuxian’s expression didn’t change, but his mind raced.

Someone.

The feeling from earlier—the way the forest had seemed too still, the way the air pressed against his skin—it hadn’t been his imagination. It was faint, yes, but old. Ancient. The kind of energy that had no place in Lan territory.

Xue Yang watched him like a wolf scenting blood.
“You felt it, didn’t you?”

Wei Wuxian raised a brow, feigning ignorance.
“Felt what?”

Xue Yang chuckled darkly.
“The presence lingering in these mountains. The way the trees hush, the way the wind listens. Something’s different here. Something valuable. And Wen Ruohan wants it.”

Jiang Cheng’s scowl deepened.
“You’re being annoyingly vague. Who is he looking for?”

Xue Yang tapped his chin, clearly savoring the moment. Then, with that wicked grin:

“A certain… Lan Wangji.”

Wei Wuxian blinked.

The name echoed in his mind like a distant bell.

Lan Wangji?

Wei Wuxian blinked, the name ringing familiar.

Nie Huaisang had mentioned him in passing—the second young master of the Lan Clan, an omega with an untouchable reputation. Quiet. Disciplined. Revered.
But that alone wouldn’t interest Wen Ruohan.

No... it had to be something more.

He remembered the silence in the woods. The way the wind itself had seemed to move differently here. The faint, thrumming energy that had prickled at the back of his neck. A presence that didn't belong—yet felt old enough to have always been here.

Lan Wangji.

Why did that name suddenly feel like a missing piece of a puzzle he hadn’t even realized he was solving?

Wei Wuxian’s smirk returned, slow and curling, but now his eyes gleamed with something colder. Intrigue.

“Well,” he murmured, “that does make things interesting.”

Xue Yang laughed, satisfied. “I thought you’d say that.”

Jiang Cheng, arms still crossed, scowled. “It doesn’t matter. The Lan Clan can handle themselves. If Wen Ruohan is planning something, let them deal with it.”

Wei Wuxian hummed in vague agreement, but his mind didn’t quiet.

There was something about this.
Something unfinished.

His gaze drifted toward the distant mist-veiled peaks of the Cloud Recesses, and the smirk on his lips faded just slightly. Something told him this wasn’t merely about Wen Ruohan’s ambitions.

It was about something older.
Something waiting.

Waiting to be uncovered.

And for the first time in a long while, Wei Wuxian had the distinct feeling he wasn’t walking into a scheme of his own making—

—but into something far older that had already claimed him.

His crimson eyes flickered, and he smiled again, slow and sharp.

“Interesting.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Let’s see what Wen Ruohan is up to.”

Xue Yang stretched his arms lazily over his head. “Well, that’s all the fun I had for you today.” He winked. “I’ll be watching from the sidelines. Try not to bore me, Wei Wuxian.”

Before Jiang Cheng could curse at him, Xue Yang’s form flickered—and in the blink of an eye, he vanished, leaving nothing but the rustling of leaves in his wake.

Jiang Cheng let out a sharp breath, jaw tight.
“That bastard always makes my blood boil.”

Wei Wuxian chuckled. “That’s just his way of showing affection.”

Jiang Cheng shot him a flat glare. “If that’s affection, I’d rather not be loved.”

Wei Wuxian waved him off. “Alright, we got the information we needed. Now, we need to be cautious.”

Jiang Cheng nodded, but then noticed that Wei Wuxian was staring toward the deeper part of the forest, his expression unusually contemplative.

“…What now?” he asked, already dreading the answer.

Wei Wuxian turned to him with a lopsided grin. “I have to meet Baoshan Sanren.”

Jiang Cheng’s frown deepened. “Why?”

Wei Wuxian tapped two fingers thoughtfully against his arm. “Just a hunch. Something about this whole situation feels… off.”

Jiang Cheng groaned. “You and your hunches.”

Wei Wuxian clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, Jiang Cheng, have a little faith in me.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” Jiang Cheng muttered, but the concern behind his sarcasm was clear.

Wei Wuxian’s grin widened. “You go ahead to the Cloud Recesses. I’ll catch up later.”

Jiang Cheng hesitated, scanning his brother’s face. “…Fine. But don’t do anything stupid.”

Wei Wuxian gave a mock salute. “I would never.”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath as he turned away, heading toward the distant peaks of the Lan Clan’s territory.

Wei Wuxian watched him go. The grin lingered for only a second before it slowly faded. His eyes darkened—crimson gleaming faintly in the forest light—as his expression turned sharp and unreadable.

Without another word, he stepped off the path and disappeared into the shadows of the trees, drawn forward by a name whispered across lifetimes.

__________________

The forest was eerily silent as Wei Wuxian strode through its depths, his crimson eyes scanning the shadows. The scent of damp earth and fresh pine hung in the air, but there was something else beneath it—something hidden under the stillness. A pulse. A breath. An ancient rhythm, alive and waiting.

He paused, eyes narrowing.

With a slow smile, Wei Wuxian reached into his robes and pulled out a talisman—handcrafted and etched with fine ink, its edges slightly worn from age and use. He held it between two fingers, watching as a faint shimmer of spiritual energy danced across its surface like firelight over water.

“Let’s open the door, shall we?” he murmured.

With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the charm into the air.

It caught the wind and flared gold. For a single heartbeat, the forest held its breath.

Then the air cracked open.

A gust of wind tore through the trees, scattering leaves in every direction. The ground beneath his feet rippled, the very fabric of space trembling like a veil pulled taut. Light shimmered in waves—bending, folding—and then, like a still pond broken by a single drop, the entrance appeared.

A vast passage, pulsing with old, unfathomable power.

Wei Wuxian’s grin turned sharp. “Still as dramatic as ever, Grandma.”

Without hesitation, he stepped through.

The instant he crossed the threshold, the world shifted.

The forest melted away, and in its place unfurled a realm untouched by time.

Lush green mountains soared into a sky streaked with molten gold. Rivers of crystal water wove between the valleys, mirroring the colors of the blossoms that bloomed wild and untamed. Birds with iridescent wings soared overhead, their cries clear and distant. Every inch of the sanctuary shimmered with spiritual energy—it thrummed in the air, in the earth, in the very wind that brushed past his robes.

Wei Wuxian inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering shut for just a moment.

This place—this hidden cradle of cultivation—was unlike anywhere else. It sang with purity, untouched by war, ambition, or grief.

He opened his eyes, their crimson glow softening. “Still smells like peach blossoms and incense,” he murmured. “Guess not everything changes.”

Before he could take another step, a familiar voice rang through the air.

“You’re finally here, Young Master Wei!”

Wei Wuxian turned—and his face lit up with a grin. “Wen Ning!”

The younger man rushed forward, his movements light, no longer weighed down by fear or uncertainty. He looked healthier than ever, his complexion warm, eyes bright with excitement. Dressed in a simple but finely made robe, Wen Ning radiated peace—proof of how deeply the sanctuary had nourished him.

Wei Wuxian grabbed him by the shoulders with a laugh. “Look at you! You’ve filled out! Have you finally stopped tripping over your own feet?”

Wen Ning flushed and scratched the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. “I—I’ve been training. A lot.”

“Good,” Wei Wuxian said approvingly, giving his arm a squeeze. “Maybe I’ll make a warrior out of you yet. Then Jiang Cheng will have to shut up about you.”

Before Wen Ning could respond, a familiar voice cut through.

“You’re causing trouble the moment you arrive. Typical.”

Wei Wuxian turned just as Wen Qing approached. Her arms were crossed, her stride brisk—but there was a flicker of warmth in her gaze that belied her words.

He pressed a hand to his chest dramatically. “Wen Qing, you wound me. I haven’t even had time to start trouble yet.”

Wen Qing rolled her eyes. “You don’t need time. You are the trouble.”

More Wen clan members emerged from the surrounding pavilions, smiling and calling out greetings. This branch of the Wen clan—sheltered by Baoshan Sanren long ago—had always rejected Wen Ruohan’s path. Here, they had built something gentler, quieter, free of blood and ambition.

Wei Wuxian greeted them all with easy laughter and teasing words, a spring in his step as he walked among them. But beneath the mirth, a thread of purpose pulled tight in his chest.

Eventually, he turned to Wen Qing, his voice lowering. “I need to see Grandma.”

She sobered immediately. “She’s at the eastern pavilion. She’s been expecting you.”

With a nod, Wei Wuxian offered a quick smile, then turned toward the heart of the sanctuary, the light in his eyes sharpening.

It was time to find answers.

_________

The eastern pavilion was a quiet place, nestled between a tranquil pond and a grove of ancient trees. Golden leaves drifted lazily through the air, carried by the softest breeze. The silence here wasn’t empty—it was sacred, dense with the weight of time.

At the heart of the courtyard sat Baoshan Sanren.

Though she was known to the world as an immortal of immeasurable age, she looked not a day older than thirty. Her robes shimmered like woven starlight, catching threads of sun and wind alike. Her long hair, silver at the tips, swayed gently with the breeze as she bent over her writing table, a slender brush gliding across parchment. The very air around her seemed to glow faintly.

To others, she was legend. To Wei Wuxian, she was family.

His lips curled into a grin as he padded silently across the polished stone tiles, steps feather-light. Just as he raised his hands—planning to cover her eyes from behind—

“Wei Ying.”

Baoshan Sanren’s voice was soft, amused, and utterly certain.

Wei Wuxian groaned, dropping his hands. “Come on, I was so quiet this time!”

Still without looking, she set down her brush and gently dusted her parchment with fine powder. “You’ve always been quiet. But you forget, the wind loves to gossip. It brings your presence before your footsteps arrive.”

Only then did she turn.

A radiant smile lit her face—serene, ageless, and full of fondness. “Predictable, mischievous, and forever my troublemaker.”

Wei Wuxian pouted, though his eyes sparkled. “You make me sound like a pest.”

“And yet you’ve always been my favorite,” she said, and pulled him into a gentle embrace.

Wei Wuxian folded into her arms without hesitation, breathing in the faint scent of lotus and parchment.

“You’re really here,” she murmured, voice soft against his temple. “Good. I feared you’d forgotten the way.”

He smiled into her shoulder. “Never. Not here.”

Wei Wuxian melted into the hug, allowing himself a rare moment of peace.
No matter how powerful he became, no matter how much responsibility he carried, he would always be the mischievous grandson in her presence.

When they pulled apart, Baoshan Sanren studied him carefully.
“You’ve grown stronger.”

Wei Wuxian grinned.
“Of course! Did you expect anything less?”

Baoshan Sanren simply smiled, but before she could speak, her expression suddenly changed.

The center of her forehead glowed with an ethereal light, and her body went unnaturally still.

Wei Wuxian stiffened.
“Grandma?”

A moment passed.
Then another.

And then, as suddenly as it had come, the glow faded.

Baoshan Sanren inhaled sharply, blinking as if waking from a dream.

Wei Wuxian frowned.
“What was that? What did you see?”

Baoshan Sanren didn’t answer immediately.
She studied him for a long moment, her gaze filled with something unreadable—something both affectionate and sorrowful.

Then, at last, she whispered:
“I saw your future.”

Wei Wuxian’s grin faltered.
“My future?” he echoed, tilting his head. “What did you see?”

Baoshan Sanren’s gaze remained unreadable.
There was something deeper in her expression—an emotion that flickered just beneath the surface.

Instead of answering, she studied him for a long moment.
Not just his face, but the energy around him, the weight of his presence.
As if searching for something unseen.

When she finally spoke, her voice was softer than before.
“There are things even I cannot fully predict, Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian scoffed, folding his arms.
“Sounds like an excuse. What’s the point of being an all-knowing ancient master if you won’t share your wisdom?”

Baoshan Sanren chuckled, though her eyes held something wistful.
“Some knowledge must remain untouched until the right moment. If you force fate’s hand, the consequences will ripple far beyond your control.”

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes.
“You always talk in riddles. At least give me a hint.”

Baoshan Sanren sighed, then smiled gently.
“Very well. I will tell you one thing.”

She reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face.
For a brief second, her fingers lingered—just a touch longer than necessary.

“You will meet your mate very soon.”

Wei Wuxian blinked.

Then, he laughed.
“That’s it? Come on, Grandma, I was expecting something important.”

Baoshan Sanren didn’t laugh this time.

She simply watched him, her gaze steady and knowing.
“You may not see the importance now. But you will.”

Wei Wuxian waved a hand dismissively.
“Please. I have bigger things to worry about than romance. You should know better than anyone that I don’t have time for something as pointless as a mate.”

Baoshan Sanren’s lips quirked, though her eyes remained solemn.
“That is exactly why it will matter.”

Wei Wuxian opened his mouth to argue, but something in her expression made him pause.

She looked… sad.

Not in the way elders sometimes felt wistful about the future, but in the way someone looks at an unavoidable tragedy.

The moment stretched between them, heavy with something unspoken.

Wei Wuxian swallowed, suddenly uncomfortable.

Forcing a grin, he crossed his arms and leaned back.
“Well, unless my so-called mate happens to be the key to winning a war, I’m not interested.”

Baoshan Sanren exhaled softly.
“You might be surprised.”

Something cold curled in the pit of Wei Wuxian’s stomach.

Before he could question her further, she changed the subject.
“But that is not why you came, is it?”

Wei Wuxian blinked at the sudden shift, but let it go.
“No. I came to ask about the throne.”

Baoshan Sanren’s expression sharpened, her previous gentleness replaced with something far more serious.

“Yes, Wen Ruohan may have tried to steal the throne after murdering your parents,” she said.
“But even with all his power, he cannot truly wield it.”

Wei Wuxian frowned.
“Why not?”

Baoshan Sanren’s gaze darkened.
“Because the throne was never meant for him. It was forged for the true bloodline of the Wei Kingdom. Only you, the rightful heir, can awaken its full power.”

Wei Wuxian’s brows furrowed.
“Then why is he still trying?”

Baoshan Sanren’s voice lowered.
“Because there is another way.”

Silence stretched between them before she finally spoke again.

“There is one exception. The throne’s power can be activated by someone with an aura so pure, so untainted, that even the darkest magic would shatter upon touching it.”

Wei Wuxian inhaled sharply.

A pure soul.

His mind raced, piecing together fragments of knowledge, memories, instinct.

Baoshan Sanren nodded.
“A soul like this is born once every hundred years. And on the day of their birth, the heavens themselves acknowledge them.”

A chill ran down Wei Wuxian’s spine.

The wind shifting in the forest.
The weight in the air that felt ancient and watchful.
The unsettling energy he had sensed upon entering the Lan Clan’s territory.

His fingers curled against his sleeve.

Baoshan Sanren was still watching him, reading the thoughts flashing through his mind.
“You’ve already felt it, haven’t you?” she murmured.

Wei Wuxian didn’t answer.

He had.
He just hadn’t known what it meant.

Baoshan Sanren continued, her voice quiet but unwavering.
“Wen Ruohan must have discovered the signs. That is why he is searching. But while he is powerful, he does not yet have certainty. He will test, he will send spies, he will hunt—until he is sure.”

Wei Wuxian exhaled slowly, forcing his voice to stay even.
“Who is it?”

Baoshan Sanren didn’t answer right away.
Instead, she looked at him with something close to pity.

“You already know,” she said softly.

Wei Wuxian’s mind supplied the answer before she could.

Lan Wangji.

Nie Huaisang’s casual gossip.
Xue Yang’s cryptic hints.
The way the forest itself had whispered in the wind.

The most beloved omega of the Lan Clan.
The untouchable second young master.
The one everyone seemed determined to protect.

Wei Wuxian let out a slow, breathy laugh.
“Tsk. Poor guy. Sounds like a lot of trouble for someone who probably never asked for any of this.”

Baoshan Sanren’s lips curled faintly, but her eyes remained solemn.
“More trouble than you know.”

Wei Wuxian turned away, his fingers tapping against his arm.
His thoughts raced with new possibilities, shifting like puzzle pieces.

So that’s why Wen Ruohan was after Lan Wangji.
Not because he was a strong cultivator.
Not because of his status.

But because he was the key.

Wei Wuxian smirked, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Well. I suppose I should make sure he doesn’t end up in the wrong hands, then.”

Baoshan Sanren tilted her head slightly.
“And why do you say that?”

Wei Wuxian shrugged.
“Because something tells me that if Wen Ruohan gets what he wants, it won’t just be the throne at stake.”

Baoshan Sanren said nothing.

But the approving glint in her eyes was answer enough.

Wei Wuxian stretched, shaking off the tension in his muscles.
“Alright. I think I have everything I need.”

Baoshan Sanren’s gaze lingered on him one last time, her expression unreadable.
“You are walking a dangerous path, Wei Ying,” she murmured.
“Be careful where it leads you.”

Wei Wuxian waved a hand dismissively.
“I always am.”

Baoshan Sanren didn’t correct him.

She only watched as he turned to leave, her heart heavy with something unspoken.

As he disappeared into the distance, the wind carried her final whisper.

"May the stars watch over you, my child."

__________________

The moon had just risen, casting a soft silver glow over the Cloud Recesses.

Wei Wuxian arrived late—later than he had originally planned.
He clicked his tongue in mild irritation at himself but quickly shrugged it off.

“Ah, well,” he murmured, adjusting the wine jar slung over his shoulder.
“Better late than never.”

The Cloud Recesses was as heavily warded as he remembered.
It was meant to keep trespassers out, but Wei Wuxian wasn’t just any trespasser.

He studied the barrier, fingers twitching as he conjured a small thread of energy, weaving it seamlessly into the spiritual wards.
With the ease of a master, he manipulated a slight opening—just enough for him to slip through.

He smirked.
Child’s play.

Wei Wuxian dusted himself off and looked around.
He had chosen to sneak in from the far side of the Cloud Recesses, assuming it would be less patrolled.

What he didn’t know, however, was that this was precisely the section where the most cherished omega of the Lan Clan, Lan Wangji, resided in seclusion.

Not that he would’ve cared.
Rules were made to be broken, and Wei Wuxian had always been an expert at it.

His eyes scanned the high walls before him.
The only way forward was to climb.

Wei Wuxian cracked his knuckles, rolling his shoulders before making his ascent.
He gripped the stone structure, his strong fingers and well-trained limbs working in perfect synchronization as he pulled himself upward with agility.

As he reached the top, he finally sat down, catching his breath.

The night air was crisp, carrying with it the faint scent of cloud grass and sandalwood.
Wei Wuxian hummed in appreciation, feeling the serenity of the place settle over him.

Then he felt it.

A presence.

His body tensed instinctively.
He had always been sensitive to spiritual pressure, and the one he felt now was powerful yet… soothing.
Refined.

Slowly, Wei Wuxian turned, already schooling his features into his usual roguish grin.

But the moment he laid eyes on the figure standing a few feet away,
he faltered.

For the first time in his life, he was struck speechless.

The omega before him was unlike any he had ever seen.

Ethereal, bathed in the silver light of the moon, his long, raven-black hair flowed with the wind, and his pristine white robes, embroidered with subtle cloud patterns, made him seem almost unreal—like a celestial being descended from the heavens.

Wei Wuxian had met many omegas, had flirted with many, had even been chased by some,
but none had ever made him feel like this.

His breath caught in his throat.
His heart stuttered.

Lan Wangji’s golden eyes, sharp yet filled with an innate serenity, locked onto him with a silent intensity.

Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but let his gaze wander for a moment, tracing the omega’s delicate yet refined features—
the soft curve of his lips,
the way his lashes cast faint shadows against his cheeks,
the contrast of his fair skin against the night.

His heart beat just a little too fast.
Shit.

Realizing he was staring, Wei Wuxian quickly regained his composure, smirking as he leaned forward slightly.
“Well, well,” he drawled,
“I didn’t expect such a beautiful moon to be standing right in front of me.”

Lan Wangji frowned, clearly unamused by the intrusion.
His posture was impeccable, rigid yet graceful, his golden eyes unwavering as they studied the alpha trespassing in his space.

“You have broken the rules,” Lan Wangji stated, voice cool and composed.
“Trespassing. Bringing alcohol into the Cloud Recesses. Intruding upon an unmated omega’s residence at night.
Submit yourself to the law enforcer.”

Wei Wuxian blinked.

Then he grinned.

“Oh? That’s quite the list,” he chuckled, reaching for the wine jar he had brought.
He lifted it between them, his grin turning playful.

“Well, since I’m already a criminal, how about we make it worse?
A drink to celebrate my impending doom?”

Lan Wangji’s frown deepened.
His sharp gaze flickered to the jar. He did not move.

Wei Wuxian was used to omegas giggling or blushing when he flirted.
He was used to them getting flustered, maybe playing along.

But this omega?

He was unaffected.

No—more than that.

He was disapproving.

Wei Wuxian’s grin faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered.
“Come on, don’t look at me like that.
You will look even prettier when you smile, you know?”

Lan Wangji’s ears turned slightly red,
but his expression did not waver.

Instead, he reached for his sword.

Shit.

Wei Wuxian barely had time to react before Bichen was unsheathed,
its tip pressing against his throat.

“Leave,” Lan Wangji commanded,
voice calm yet firm.

Wei Wuxian lifted his hands in mock surrender, his smirk still in place.
“Now, now, no need to be so violent.
I swear I won’t tell anyone that I found the most breathtaking omega in all of Cloud Recesses.”

Lan Wangji’s grip on his sword tightened.
His ears were unmistakably red now,
but he did not lower his weapon.

Wei Wuxian, undeterred, continued to tease.
“You know, I think you’re the first omega to ever pull a sword on me instead of batting their lashes.”

Lan Wangji had had enough.

With one swift movement, he lunged.

Wei Wuxian barely managed to dodge, flipping backward and landing on the tiled roof below.

“Whoa, whoa! You’re really trying to kill me, huh?” he laughed as he dodged another strike, his body moving fluidly.

Lan Wangji chased him relentlessly, each movement precise, each strike deadly.

Yet, despite the dangerous gleam of Bichen’s blade,
Wei Wuxian never once drew his own sword.

He dodged, ducked, leaped across rooftops with a smirk playing on his lips.

Lan Wangji was fast.
His footwork was flawless.

But Wei Wuxian was faster.

With each strike Lan Wangji attempted,
Wei Wuxian twisted out of the way, his laughter echoing in the night.

At one point, Lan Wangji slashed forward, aiming for his wine jar.

The clay shattered.

Wei Wuxian gasped, scandalized.
“My wine!” he whined.
“Hey, you—! That was the finest wine I smuggled in! You heartless beauty!”

Lan Wangji’s sword remained steady, unfazed by the dramatics.

Wei Wuxian sighed, placing a hand over his chest.
“Fine, fine. I surrender.”

Lan Wangji lowered his sword slightly,
but he remained cautious.

That was a mistake.

The moment Bichen moved away from his throat,
Wei Wuxian reached out, grabbing Lan Wangji’s delicate wrist and pulling him close.

Lan Wangji stiffened in shock.

Wei Wuxian leaned in, his breath warm against Lan Wangji’s ear.
His voice dropped to a whisper, seductive and teasing.

“You’re the first omega to ever chase me this hard,” he murmured.
“Are you sure you’re not interested in me?”

Lan Wangji’s eyes widened, golden irises flashing with surprise.

And in that moment—
Wei Wuxian took his chance.

He grinned, let go, and dashed away.

By the time Lan Wangji snapped out of his daze,
Wei Wuxian had already disappeared into the night.

He stood frozen for a moment,
staring at the empty space where the rogue alpha had just been.

Then, slowly, his heart still racing, he exhaled sharply.

Displeasure swelled within him.

An insufferable rule-breaker.
A reckless, arrogant, shameless alpha.

Lan Wangji had never held such an immediate dislike for anyone before.

His hands curled into fists.

Tomorrow, he would inform his brother.
And he would ensure that this alpha never set foot in the Cloud Recesses again.

_________________

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian strolled leisurely through the pristine walkways of the Cloud Recesses, hands clasped behind his head, exuding an air of nonchalance. The sun had barely risen, yet the air carried the fresh crispness of morning dew, mingling with the faint scent of sandalwood.

Beside him, Jiang Cheng walked with his arms crossed, his expression one of perpetual irritation.
“I still don’t understand why you’re so pleased with yourself after what happened last night,” he muttered. “You could have been caught and punished.”

Wei Wuxian chuckled.
“I was caught, but I handled it well, didn’t I?”

Jiang Cheng scoffed, unimpressed.
“Running away doesn’t count as handling it well.”

Before Wei Wuxian could retort, a cheerful voice called out from nearby.
“Wei-xiong! Jiang-xiong!”

Nie Huaisang practically skipped toward them, his fan snapping open as he reached them. His face was alight with excitement—though whether it was due to genuine enthusiasm or simply his love for gossip, Wei Wuxian couldn’t tell.

“I was just looking for you two! There’s something important you should know.”

Wei Wuxian raised a brow, intrigued.
“Oh? Important, you say?”

Nie Huaisang nodded dramatically.
“It’s about the rankings of alphas and omegas in our generation. I’ve been keeping track, and I must say, there are some impressive names on the list.”

Wei Wuxian laughed.
“Since when do you care about rankings? You always avoid sparring or competing.”

“Well, I care about beauty,” Nie Huaisang admitted dreamily. “And speaking of beauty, Lan Wangji—ah, Lan-er gongzi—is undoubtedly at the top of that list.”

Wei Wuxian blinked, momentarily thrown off by the unexpected statement. He shot Jiang Cheng a quick look, noting the same flicker of recognition in his sworn brother’s expression.

Lan Wangji.

That name had been surfacing far too often lately.

Wei Wuxian smirked, feigning indifference.
“Oh? And who holds such a grand title?”

Nie Huaisang gasped, placing a hand over his chest as if personally offended.
“Wei-xiong, don’t tell me you don’t know! Lan Wangji, of course! The second young master of the Lan Clan, the most beautiful and noble omega of our generation.”

Wei Wuxian hummed.
“So, what makes him so special? Other than his overwhelming beauty, of course.”

Nie Huaisang flicked his fan shut, leaning in conspiratorially.
“It’s not just about his looks. Lan Wangji is… different. Everyone in the cultivation world respects him, but it’s more than that. There’s something about him—his presence, his aura—that makes people instinctively want to protect him.”

Wei Wuxian arched a brow.
“Protect him? He’s a top-tier cultivator, isn’t he? I doubt he needs protecting.”

Nie Huaisang hesitated for the briefest moment.
“You’re not wrong, but… it’s strange. People feel drawn to him, even those who don’t usually care about such things. It’s like he carries something rare, something that shouldn’t be tainted by the world.”

Wei Wuxian’s smirk faded slightly.

A soul so pure, even the heavens acknowledge its existence.

Baoshan Sanren’s words flickered in his mind, unbidden.

Before he could dwell on it further, Nie Huaisang grinned again, oblivious to Wei Wuxian’s brief lapse in thought.
“Anyway, all the omegas adore him, and all the alphas want him. But, of course, he’s completely unattainable.”

Jiang Cheng huffed.
“Sounds suffocating.”

Nie Huaisang fanned himself dramatically.
“Oh, it is! The Lan Clan treats him like a divine treasure—no one is allowed too close, and let’s not even talk about how fiercely Lan Qiren guards him.”

Wei Wuxian let out a low chuckle.
“That explains why he was so ready to kill me last night.”

Nie Huaisang froze mid-fan-flutter.
“…Wait. What?”

Jiang Cheng groaned.
“I told you not to bring it up, you idiot.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes gleamed with curiosity.
“Wei-xiong, what did you do?”

Wei Wuxian stretched his arms lazily.
“Oh, nothing much. Just had a little chat with your so-called divine treasure under the moonlight.”

Nie Huaisang’s mouth fell open.
“You met Lan Wangji?”

Wei Wuxian grinned.
“Not only that, but I complimented his beauty and invited him for a drink. A shame he wasn’t interested.”

Nie Huaisang looked like he was about to faint.
“You what?!”

Wei Wuxian laughed at his dramatic reaction.
“Relax, relax. I didn’t lay a hand on him. He did, however, try to take my head off.”

Nie Huaisang let out an exaggerated sigh of relief.
“Well, at least that means you’re still alive.”
Then his expression turned sly.
“But, Wei-xiong… tell me, what did you think?”

Wei Wuxian hesitated.

What did he think?

Lan Wangji had been unlike any omega he’d ever met. His beauty was undeniable, yes, but there was something else—something Wei Wuxian couldn’t quite put into words. A weight in the air around him, an unshakable presence that made it impossible to look away.

It wasn’t just attraction.
It was something deeper.

Something that made the back of Wei Wuxian’s mind hum with recognition, as if he had known Lan Wangji long before they had ever met.

He shrugged.
“He’s interesting.”

Nie Huaisang pouted.
“That’s all? How disappointing.”

Wei Wuxian smirked.
“Would you rather I declare my undying love?”

Nie Huaisang gasped.
“Don’t even joke about that! If Lan Qiren hears you, you’ll be thrown out before the sun sets.”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes.
“Frankly, that might not be a bad thing.”

Wei Wuxian waved them off.
“Alright, alright. Enough talk. What else should I know about Gusu’s most beloved omega?”

Nie Huaisang thought for a moment, then lowered his voice.
“There’s one more thing… but it’s just a rumor.”

Wei Wuxian tilted his head.
“Oh? Now I’m curious.”

Nie Huaisang hesitated, glancing around as if afraid someone might overhear. Then he leaned in.

“They say Lan Wangji was born under an unusual celestial alignment,” Nie Huaisang murmured.
“A rare star formation that only appears once every hundred years. Some believe it’s a sign of divine favor, others think it means he’s destined for something greater.”

Wei Wuxian felt his heart skip.

A soul untouched by darkness.

Nie Huaisang shrugged.
“Of course, it’s just superstition. But still, it makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”

Wei Wuxian forced a chuckle.
“Superstition, indeed.”

Nie Huaisang grinned again.
“Anyway, you should count yourself lucky, Wei-xiong. Few people get that close to him without serious consequences.”

Wei Wuxian hummed in response, but his mind was elsewhere.

Lan Wangji.

A name that had been spoken too many times in the past few days. A presence that had been felt even before he had known who he was looking for.

Something told Wei Wuxian that meeting him had not been a coincidence.
Something told him that he was only beginning to understand just how important Lan Wangji truly was.

Wei Wuxian’s mind drifted back to last night—to the ethereal figure standing in the moonlight, his white robes flowing in the night breeze, golden eyes gleaming with both annoyance and something softer that Wei Wuxian couldn’t quite place.

Nie Huaisang blinked at him, then gasped, covering his mouth with his fan.

The surrounding alphas who had been listening in whispered amongst themselves before one of them leaned close and murmured,
“Lan Wangji.”

Wei Wuxian turned sharply, his heart skipping a beat as his gaze met the very golden eyes that had haunted his thoughts.

Lan Wangji stood just a few steps away, his expression unreadable, his face as composed as ever.
But there was something in the way his gaze lingered on Wei Wuxian—displeasure, perhaps.

Wei Wuxian felt something twist in his chest.

His eyes remained on Lan Wangji, who had looked away from him with a slight frown.
Without a word, Lan Wangji turned and walked toward the lecture hall.

Wei Wuxian watched him go, his eyes tracing the elegant way he moved—poised, refined, completely untouched by the lingering stares of the alphas around them.
Even those who had been whispering earlier now respectfully stepped aside, instinctively giving him space.
None dared to approach him too closely.

Lan Wangji, completely unaffected by their attention, walked gracefully to the front of the room and sat down at the desk closest to the teacher’s.
He dipped his brush in ink and began writing, not sparing anyone a glance.

Wei Wuxian found himself watching him longer than he intended.

Jiang Cheng nudged his side.
“What are you staring at?”

Wei Wuxian blinked, shaking himself from his daze.
“Nothing.”

Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes but didn’t push.

__________________

The classroom fell into a heavy silence as Lan Qiren stepped onto the raised platform at the front of the hall, his pristine robes billowing slightly as he moved.
With a stern expression, he glanced over the students, his sharp eyes scanning for any sign of disorder.

Wei Wuxian grinned.
“He looks even grumpier than usual today,” he whispered to Jiang Cheng, who sat beside him.

Jiang Cheng nudged him hard.
“Shut up, or he’ll hear you.”

Nie Huaisang, sitting on Wei Wuxian’s other side, covered his mouth with his sleeve to suppress a laugh.
“It’s not like it’ll make a difference. He always has his eyes on Wei-xiong anyway.”

Lan Qiren cleared his throat, silencing the quiet murmurs. He pulled out a large scroll, carefully unrolling it with practiced ease.
The sheer size of it made Wei Wuxian groan internally.
He had a feeling this lecture was going to be extra long today.

“As disciples of great sects, you are expected to uphold propriety and discipline,” Lan Qiren began in his authoritative voice.
“It seems some among you have been careless in your conduct, failing to observe the rules of Cloud Recesses. To ensure there is no further excuse for ignorance, I shall now read the rules aloud. One by one.”

Wei Wuxian smirked.
Is he talking about me? He’s totally talking about me.

Jiang Cheng shot him a warning glance, but Wei Wuxian merely propped his chin on his palm, watching Lan Qiren with amusement.

And then the reading began.

Lan Qiren’s voice was steady, unwavering, as he went through rule after rule.

“Rule One: Rise at dawn and sleep at dusk. No exceptions.”

“Rule Five: No drinking of alcohol within the premises.”

“Rule Eleven: No playing musical instruments outside designated hours.”

“Rule Thirty: No frivolous behavior during class.”

“Rule Forty-Three: No unnecessary speaking.”

Wei Wuxian stifled a yawn.
Ah, this again.

His mind drifted after the first dozen rules. The repetition of rules he had already heard countless times was making his eyelids feel heavy.
It wasn’t that he didn’t respect the rules—it was just that there were so many of them.
Did the Lans even have time to live with all these restrictions?

He let his gaze wander around the room, searching for something—anything—to entertain himself with.

And that’s when his eyes landed on Lan Wangji.

Unlike the other disciples, who were shifting in their seats or discreetly trying to stay awake, Lan Wangji sat straight-backed and motionless, his hands folded neatly on the table.
His golden eyes were fixed on Lan Qiren with rapt attention, his face a picture of absolute focus.

Wei Wuxian’s lips curled into a smile.

So proper. So serious.
What would it take to break that perfect composure, even just a little?

A mischievous glint sparked in Wei Wuxian’s eyes.

His fingers moved swiftly as he tore a small piece of parchment from his notes, folding it carefully.
Within seconds, a tiny paperman sat in the palm of his hand.

Satisfied, he flicked his wrist, sending the paperman floating gently through the air.

The enchanted paper figure danced across the classroom, weaving through the air with delicate movements.
It glided past a few disciples, unnoticed, before finally landing on Lan Wangji’s hand.

Wei Wuxian held back a laugh as the paperman began to crawl up Lan Wangji’s sleeve, moving toward his face like a tiny, determined creature.

For a moment, Lan Wangji did nothing.

Then, with a single sharp movement, he snatched the paperman, crumpling it in his fist.

Wei Wuxian could see the way Lan Wangji’s jaw tensed as he turned his head, his golden eyes narrowing in anger.

Wei Wuxian merely winked at him.

That was a mistake.

Lan Wangji’s ears turned a soft shade of pink, his fingers tightening around the crumpled paper.

Without another word, he immediately faced forward again, his posture stiff, but Wei Wuxian could tell he was flustered.

Ah, so the ice prince isn’t entirely immune.

Wei Wuxian grinned, satisfied with his little victory.

But then—
“Ahem.”

A sharp voice cut through the air.

Wei Wuxian’s stomach dropped as he turned back to find Lan Qiren’s piercing gaze locked directly onto him.

There was no way he hadn’t seen that.

Jiang Cheng sighed.
“You’re an idiot.”

“Wei Wuxian,” Lan Qiren called, his voice firm.
“Since you seem so eager to engage in distractions, let’s see if you have been paying attention.”

The entire classroom fell silent.

Nie Huaisang sent him a pitying glance.
Jiang Cheng just shook his head.

Wei Wuxian, however, simply flashed a confident smile.
“Of course, Lan Qiren. Please ask away.”

Lan Qiren’s gaze sharpened, but he wasted no time in testing Wei Wuxian’s knowledge.

“What is the most crucial trait of a righteous cultivator?”

“Integrity,” Wei Wuxian answered smoothly.
“A cultivator should remain just, even when faced with personal loss.”

Lan Qiren nodded.
“What is the role of discipline within a sect?”

Wei Wuxian’s grin didn’t falter.
“Discipline provides stability, ensuring a sect remains strong through generations. However, excessive rigidity can hinder growth.”

Lan Qiren’s brows twitched slightly, but he didn’t refute the answer. Instead, he upped the difficulty.

“What is the duty of a ruler?”

Wei Wuxian’s smile faded, and for a moment, he hesitated.

The class held their breath.

Then, Wei Wuxian spoke.

“A ruler’s duty is not just to lead, but to protect,” he said, his voice quieter than before.

“They must place their people before themselves. Strength alone does not make a ruler—compassion does. A ruler who demands loyalty without earning trust will eventually be abandoned. But a ruler who fights for their people, who cares for them, will always be remembered.”

Silence fell over the hall.

Lan Qiren’s expression was unreadable.

Inwardly, he was impressed. Wei Wuxian’s answer was beyond his expectations.

But outwardly—

“Hmph.”

He let out a heavy breath, his face remaining as stern as ever.
“At least you have been listening,” he said. “Sit down.”

Wei Wuxian beamed and plopped back into his seat.

Beside him, Nie Huaisang whispered,
“That was amazing, Wei-xiong!”

Jiang Cheng muttered,
“If you had just stayed quiet, you wouldn’t have needed to show off.”

Wei Wuxian laughed under his breath.
“Where’s the fun in that?”

Across the room, he felt a gaze on him.

He turned and met Lan Wangji’s eyes.

Unlike before, Lan Wangji wasn’t glaring.

Instead, there was something almost… thoughtful in his golden gaze.

Wei Wuxian grinned at him.

Lan Wangji immediately turned back around, posture straightening as if nothing had happened.

Wei Wuxian chuckled.

What an interesting person.

__________________

The late afternoon sun bathed the pristine walkways of Cloud Recesses in a warm golden hue as Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, and Nie Huaisang strolled leisurely through the sect’s grounds.
The scent of pine and ink lingered in the air, a distinct contrast to the livelier atmosphere of Lotus Pier, but Wei Wuxian had grown somewhat accustomed to it over the past few days.

Not that he particularly followed the Lan rules—quite the opposite, really.

Hands tucked behind his head, Wei Wuxian grinned mischievously and asked,
“So, where does Lan Wangji spend most of his time?”

Nie Huaisang, who had been fanning himself lazily, paused mid-step.
He turned to Wei Wuxian, tilting his head with an amused expression before swiftly raising his fan to cover the lower half of his face. His eyes gleamed with curiosity.

“Why do you want to know, Wei-xiong?”

Jiang Cheng, walking on Wei Wuxian’s other side, let out an exasperated sigh.
“I already don’t like where this is going.”

Wei Wuxian chuckled.
“Why else? It’s fun to tease Lan Zhan! He’s so entertaining when he gets flustered.”

Nie Huaisang let out a dramatic gasp and waved his fan in front of him.
“Wei-xiong, are you sure you want to continue this dangerous game? If you truly value your life, you should stop provoking him. Lan Qiren will have your head on a silver plate if you keep it up!”

Jiang Cheng nodded in agreement.
“For once, Huaisang is actually making sense.”

Wei Wuxian merely waved a hand.
“Ah, you two are no fun. Besides, don’t you think it’s fascinating? Lan Zhan acts so unshakable, but the moment you poke at him just right, he completely freezes up. How can I resist?”

Nie Huaisang sighed.
“Well, if you truly must know… Lan Wangji spends most of his time in the library pavilion. He practically lives there.”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes lit up.
“The library, huh? No wonder he’s such a rule-abiding Lan!”

Nie Huaisang suddenly perked up at the sound of someone calling his name.
He turned and spotted a fellow disciple waving at him.

“Ah, looks like I must go. Wei-xiong, I advise you once again—be careful!”

With a dramatic swoop of his fan, Nie Huaisang sauntered off, leaving Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng alone.

Jiang Cheng folded his arms, eyeing his brother suspiciously.
“…Now what exactly are you planning?”

Wei Wuxian laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Oh, just thinking about how to get Lan Zhan to interact with me more.”

Jiang Cheng scoffed.
“Interact? You mean annoy. Why are you so obsessed with bothering him? You have nothing better to do?”

Wei Wuxian kept smiling, but his thoughts drifted elsewhere.

That’s not it, Jiang Cheng.

He had other reasons for wanting to be around Lan Wangji.

It wasn’t just because of the fun of teasing him—though that was certainly a perk—but because deep down, Wei Wuxian knew trouble was coming.

Wen Ruohan was preparing something.

Wei Wuxian had seen the signs—the growing tension, the whispers of darker forces stirring in the shadows. Wen Ruohan wasn’t just expanding his power in the demon realm—he was dabbling in the human realm, and that was far more dangerous.

And that’s why he was worried about Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji was strong—incredibly so—but that strength applied when he was dealing with humans, not creatures from the demon realm.

Against an ordinary opponent, Lan Zhan could hold his own effortlessly. But against demonic forces?

Wei Wuxian knew better than anyone how terrifying that world could be.

And there was another problem.

Lan Wangji was an omega.

Unlike alphas, omegas were far more vulnerable to certain dark techniques—especially demonic energy.
If Wen Ruohan was planning to unleash something from that realm, Lan Wangji would be left completely defenseless.

Wei Wuxian couldn’t let that happen.

Which meant he had to stay close.
No matter what.

Jiang Cheng, oblivious to Wei Wuxian’s internal thoughts, rolled his eyes.
“I swear, if Lan Wangji beats you into the ground, I’m not going to help you.”

Wei Wuxian snapped out of his thoughts and grinned.
“Come on, Jiang Cheng. Have a little faith in me! I never get caught!”

Jiang Cheng gave him a deadpan look.
“You got caught yesterday.”

Wei Wuxian pouted.
“That doesn’t count.”

Jiang Cheng scoffed, shaking his head.
“You’re impossible.”

But despite his grumbling, there was a trace of fondness in his voice.

Wei Wuxian only laughed.

---

Cloud Recesses Library Pavilion

The sun had begun its slow descent, casting golden hues over the Cloud Recesses.
The air carried the crisp scent of pine and parchment, mingling with the faint traces of incense from the meditation halls.

Unlike the lively warmth of Yunmeng, the Lan Clan’s home was steeped in stillness, as if even the mountains themselves adhered to the rules of silence.

Wei Wuxian, of course, had no such patience for silence.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” he called out, falling into step beside the unbothered omega.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to pretend I don’t exist forever. That seems a bit excessive, even for you.”

Lan Wangji didn’t break stride.
“Do not call me that.”

Wei Wuxian grinned.
“What, Lan Zhan? But it suits you! It’s a good name—steady, elegant, just like you.”

Lan Wangji’s steps faltered ever so slightly, but he did not respond.

Wei Wuxian noticed, of course. He always noticed.

Golden eyes flickered in the dimming light, unreadable yet piercing.
Wei Wuxian had never encountered an omega quite like him.
There was something about Lan Wangji—something weighty, something meant for more.

Baoshan Sanren’s words drifted through his thoughts once again.

“You will meet your mate very soon.”

Wei Wuxian had scoffed at the idea then.
He wasn’t looking for a mate, and he certainly wasn’t the type to believe in destiny.

But there was something unsettling about the way the world seemed to shift around Lan Wangji, as though the very air acknowledged his presence.

It was ridiculous.
...Wasn’t it?

Shaking off the thought, he turned his most charming smile toward Lan Wangji.
“So, what’s on today’s agenda? Meditation? Calligraphy? Or perhaps something more thrilling, like—oh, I don’t know—breathing?”

Lan Wangji ignored him, continuing his path toward the library pavilion.

Wei Wuxian sighed dramatically.
“So cold, so heartless. You wound me, Hanguang-jun.”

At that, Lan Wangji finally stopped.

Wei Wuxian’s breath hitched for a fraction of a second.

Lan Wangji looked up at him then, his golden eyes no longer indifferent but sharp, assessing.
“You do not take anything seriously.”

Wei Wuxian swallowed, caught off guard by the quiet intensity in his voice.

“What are you—”

“You speak without thought. You treat rules as jokes. You act as though nothing has weight.”

Lan Wangji’s grip didn’t tighten, but it didn’t loosen either.
“But you see things, do you not?”

Wei Wuxian stilled.

It wasn’t an accusation.
It wasn’t even a question.

It was a statement.

For the first time since meeting Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian found himself unsure of what to say.

Because the truth was—yes.
Yes, he saw things.

The shift in the air before a storm.
The way spiritual energy hummed differently around certain people.
The way the world bent ever so slightly around Lan Wangji, as if fate itself had marked him.

But how could Lan Wangji know that?

Wei Wuxian forced a laugh, pulling his hand free with ease.
“Well, aren’t you poetic today? You sound like an old master, preaching about the secrets of the universe.”

Lan Wangji didn’t answer.

He only looked at him for a long, weighted moment—like he was searching for something, something unspoken.

Then, without another word, he turned and continued walking.

Wei Wuxian exhaled, suddenly aware of the tension coiled in his shoulders.

Lan Wangji.
A strange, unreadable omega with golden eyes like the edge of a prophecy.

Wei Wuxian wasn’t the type to believe in fate.
But for the first time, he wondered if fate had already decided something for him.

—-----

As night fell, the Cloud Recesses took on a different atmosphere.
The quiet halls, always peaceful, now seemed to hum with an eerie stillness. The soft glow of lanterns illuminated the white walls, casting long shadows that danced in the breeze.

Wei Wuxian crouched outside the library pavilion, peeking in through the half-open doors.

Inside, Lan Wangji sat alone, his back straight, his head slightly tilted downward as he read from a scroll.
The warm candlelight cast a golden hue over his delicate features, making him look almost ethereal.

Wei Wuxian found himself staring.

He really does look like a painting.

But he wasn’t here to admire. He was here to bother.

With a grin, he crept inside, silently moving toward Lan Wangji’s desk.

Lan Wangji didn’t even look up.
“Leave.”

Wei Wuxian froze mid-step.
“Eh? How did you know I was here?!”

Lan Wangji turned a page calmly.
“Your presence is loud.”

Wei Wuxian pouted but recovered quickly.
He plopped himself down on the desk, right in front of Lan Wangji, his legs swinging off the side.

“Lan Zhan, aren’t you bored? Studying all night isn’t good for you!”

Lan Wangji ignored him.

Wei Wuxian leaned forward.
“Come on, let’s do something fun! I bet you don’t even know how to relax.”

Lan Wangji turned another page, entirely unimpressed.

Wei Wuxian smirked.
Alright, if talking won’t work, let’s try something else.

He reached out and poked Lan Wangji’s cheek.

Lan Wangji froze.

Wei Wuxian held back a laugh.
“So soft—”

Before he could say another word, Lan Wangji grabbed his wrist in a firm grip.

Wei Wuxian blinked.

For a moment, they just stared at each other.

Lan Wangji’s hand was warm, his grip strong yet not painful.
Wei Wuxian could feel the heat radiating from his palm, the faint pulse beneath his fingertips.

And then—
Lan Wangji released him abruptly, as if he had been burned.

“Do not touch me,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

Wei Wuxian didn’t miss the slight pink dusting Lan Wangji’s ears.

He grinned.
“Lan Zhan, are you blushing?”

Lan Wangji snapped his book shut.
“Leave.”

Wei Wuxian laughed loudly.
“Alright, alright! I’ll go. But don’t miss me too much, okay?”

Lan Wangji simply turned away, resuming his reading.

But as Wei Wuxian left, he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

Because no matter how much Lan Wangji tried to push him away, Wei Wuxian wasn’t going anywhere.
Not when danger was approaching.
And especially not when it came to Lan Wangji.

_________________

The morning started just like any other at the Cloud Recesses.
Disciples were seated neatly in rows, their backs straight, listening attentively to the Lan elder giving his lecture. The air was filled with the scent of fresh parchment, ink, and the crisp mountain breeze drifting in from the open windows.

Wei Wuxian, however, was barely listening.

He sat cross-legged, his elbow propped on his knee, chin resting in his palm as he absentmindedly twirled his brush between his fingers.
His eyes flickered between the elder at the front and the students around him, searching for something—anything—to entertain himself.

His gaze inevitably landed on Lan Wangji.

The omega sat perfectly straight, his posture impeccable as always.
His long lashes cast soft shadows on his cheeks as he focused on the text in front of him.
He looked composed, disciplined, untouchable—just as everyone expected him to be.

Wei Wuxian narrowed his eyes.
Too proper. Too controlled.

After his encounter with Lan Wangji in the library yesterday, something had started to nag at him.
He had always assumed Lan Wangji was a rigid rule-follower, someone who didn’t know how to have fun.
But now… he wasn’t so sure.

Something about him didn’t quite fit the image everyone had painted of him.

And Wei Wuxian was determined to find out why.

But before he could dwell on it any longer, the heavy sound of footsteps storming toward the classroom shattered the quiet atmosphere.

BANG!

The doors flew open with a thunderous crash.

Lan Qiren strode in, radiating fury. His usually composed face was red with rage, his brows furrowed so deeply they looked like they might never return to their normal position.

But the most shocking thing—

He was clean-shaven.

His long, dignified beard—the very thing that had made him look so wise and authoritative—was gone.

There was a moment of stunned silence.

And then—

Laughter erupted from every corner of the room.

Disciples tried to cover their mouths, but the sheer absurdity of the sight was too much to contain.
Some shook with suppressed giggles, while others outright doubled over in their seats, slapping their desks in delight.

Wei Wuxian leaned back, arms folded behind his head, looking smug as he admired his handiwork.

Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

He had been very careful, making sure the fire spell would only burn the beard and nothing else.
He hadn’t expected it to be this hilarious, though.

He let his gaze sweep across the room, enjoying everyone’s reactions—

Until his eyes landed on Lan Wangji.

And there it was.

The faintest twitch of lips.

A barely-there curve of amusement.

Wei Wuxian’s breath hitched.

Lan Wangji is smiling?!

He blinked rapidly and took a double look, but by the time he focused on him again, Lan Wangji’s face was as impassive as ever.

The trace of a smile—if it had been there at all—was gone, buried under his usual blank expression.

Had he imagined it?

Wei Wuxian tilted his head, watching him closely.
No, he was sure. Lan Wangji had smiled.
Or at least, he had almost smiled.

That was interesting.

Wei Wuxian grinned.
Looks like you’re not as proper as everyone thinks, huh, Lan Zhan?

His curiosity only grew.
How many other expressions is Lan Wangji hiding behind that unreadable face?

But his train of thought was abruptly interrupted when Lan Qiren jabbed a shaking finger directly at him.

“WEI WUXIAN!!”

The classroom immediately fell silent.

Lan Qiren’s voice thundered through the room like an impending storm.
“You… You—! You will copy all 3,000 rules— 100 times!!”

Gasps rippled through the class.

Even Jiang Cheng, who had been grinning at Wei Wuxian’s prank just moments ago, sucked in a breath.
“You’re dead,” he muttered under his breath.

Nie Huaisang, always one for theatrics, fanned himself dramatically.
“I fear this is the end of you, Wei-xiong…”

Wei Wuxian, however, simply blinked.
Then he burst into laughter.

“Lan Qiren, are you sure?” he teased, resting his chin on his hand.
“I mean, 100 times? That’s 300,000 rules. Do you really think I have that kind of patience?”

Lan Qiren’s face turned an alarming shade of red.

“Do you think this is a joke?!” he roared. “This is punishment for your insolence! You bring disgrace to this class! You bring shame upon yourself! And you dare to mock me?!”

Wei Wuxian feigned deep thought.
“Mock you? I’d never!” he said innocently. “But, if I may ask, how exactly did your beard catch fire?”
He tapped his chin with mock concern.
“Could it be some demonic energy? Perhaps we should investigate?”

Someone choked back laughter in the back.

Lan Qiren nearly exploded.

“OUT!!”

Wei Wuxian grinned and shot up from his seat, dramatically bowing.
“Understood, esteemed teacher. A temporary exile, how tragic.”

He turned and strode toward the exit with far too much flair.

But as he passed by Lan Wangji, he slowed just a little, letting his fingers brush lightly against the edge of the omega’s desk.

For the briefest of moments, their eyes met.

Wei Wuxian smirked.

Lan Wangji looked at him, completely silent.

But this time—
Wei Wuxian swore he saw it.
The corners of Lan Wangji’s lips twitching—just slightly.

Then, just as quickly as it came, it was gone.
Expression blank. Composure, perfect.

Wei Wuxian chuckled as he walked out of the room.

Lan Zhan… you’re definitely hiding something.

And I’m going to find out exactly what it is.

_________________

Jiang Cheng caught up with Wei Wuxian as he lounged under a tree, arms tucked behind his head.

“I can’t believe you just laughed in Lan Qiren’s face,” Jiang Cheng muttered, plopping down beside him. “You really don’t know when to quit.”

Wei Wuxian yawned. “What’s life without a little excitement, huh?”

Jiang Cheng scoffed. “Excitement? You’re going to be stuck copying rules for months!”

Wei Wuxian waved him off. “Aiya, I’ll find a way out of it. Maybe I’ll charm a few disciples into helping me.”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.

Nie Huaisang strolled over, fanning himself with exaggerated grace. “Wei-xiong, do you have a death wish? Lan Qiren looked like he was going to explode.”

Wei Wuxian grinned. “That’s half the fun.”

Nie Huaisang shook his head in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable. But, I have to admit…” he paused, lowering his fan just slightly, “…the beard thing was a masterpiece.”

Wei Wuxian preened. “Right? But I think the best part of today wasn’t Lan Qiren’s reaction.”

Jiang Cheng raised a brow. “Then what was?”

Wei Wuxian’s grin widened. He leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper, full of mischief.

“I saw Lan Wangji smile.”

Nie Huaisang froze mid-fan. “…Hah?”

Jiang Cheng snorted. “You’re imagining things. Lan Wangji doesn’t smile.”

Wei Wuxian shook his head. “No, no. I saw it! It was tiny—just the faintest little twitch—but it was there.”

Nie Huaisang looked skeptical. “Lan Wangji? The same Lan Wangji we know?”

Wei Wuxian nodded eagerly. “I’m telling you, there’s more to him than we think. He’s not as proper as he pretends to be.”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “And what? You’re going to dedicate your life to proving that Lan Wangji has emotions?”

Wei Wuxian smirked, stretching lazily beneath the shade.

“Something like that.”

Nie Huaisang sighed, folding his fan with a dramatic flutter. “Wei-xiong… please don’t die.”

Wei Wuxian chuckled. “No promises.”

As the sun dipped behind the mountains, casting the Cloud Recesses in soft twilight, Wei Wuxian leaned back against the tree, a new spark of excitement lighting up his chest.

Unraveling Lan Wangji’s secrets just became his new favorite pastime.

_________________

The stillness of the Cloud Recesses was almost too perfect.

The moon hung high above the mountains, its pale light washing the courtyard walls in silver. Most disciples were already deep in their meditation or rest—but not Wei Wuxian.

A sinister ripple in the air had brushed past him moments ago, like a whisper laced with malice. Subtle… but unmistakable.

Wei Wuxian’s expression turned sharp. Something’s here.

He moved soundlessly, feet gliding across the tiled rooftops with practiced ease, talismans tucked between his fingers. He had encountered demons before—but one hiding in the Cloud Recesses?

That was new.

He followed the dark energy, each step drawing him closer to one of the more isolated wings of the compound.

Lan Wangji’s quarters?

His brows drew together in a frown. The energy coiled and slithered downward, as if the very shadows were shifting.

He crouched low, eyes scanning the darkened courtyard below.

And then—he saw it.

A figure—no, a creature—slipping through the door like a smear of smoke. It didn’t move like a human. It wasn’t human.

Wei Wuxian reached into his robes for a sealing charm.

But before he could react—

The tiles beneath his feet gave way.

“Fuck—”

Wei Wuxian crashed through the roof, his body twisting midair as wood and tiles rained down around him. His descent was abrupt, and he braced for impact—
only to land in something unexpectedly warm.

Water.

For a moment, his mind blanked. The world around him stilled as he processed what had just happened.

He lifted his head, water streaming down his face, his black robes floating weightlessly around him. His dark eyes blinked in confusion as he scanned the surroundings.

He had fallen into a bathing pool.
A large one.
A very private one.

Then he noticed the figure sitting across from him in the steaming water.

Lan Wangji.

Their eyes met. Time seemed to stretch endlessly between them.

Wei Wuxian took in the sight before him—Lan Wangji, half-submerged in the water, his upper body bare except for a thin silk bath wrap clinging to him. The delicate fabric, soaked from the water, left little to the imagination. It wrapped snugly around Lan Wangji’s chest and thighs, accentuating his slender form.

Droplets of water clung to his smooth, pale skin, trailing down his collarbones. His long, dark hair floated around him like ink in water, cascading over his shoulders.

Wei Wuxian gaped.

Lan Wangji’s face, normally composed and unreadable, was frozen in pure shock.

A second later—

“WEI YING!”

Lan Wangji’s voice cracked, the rare slip of composure stunning Wei Wuxian into even deeper silence.

Wei Wuxian opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His mind was still stuck on the image of Lan Wangji—his Lan Zhan—wrapped in a damp, translucent silk garment, his normally stoic features tinged with something dangerously close to embarrassment.

It was… breathtaking.

Finally snapping out of his stupor, Wei Wuxian waved his hands frantically.

“Wait, wait! Lan Zhan, I can explain! This isn’t what it looks like!”

Lan Wangji’s face was turning red—whether from anger or embarrassment, Wei Wuxian couldn’t tell.

“Leave.”

Wei Wuxian swallowed.

Nope, that was definitely rage.

“No, no, really! I was following a demon, and I—” He gestured up at the hole in the roof. “It broke, and I fell—”

“OUT.”

Wei Wuxian was about to continue his explanation when his eyes accidentally dipped downward.

He caught another glimpse of Lan Wangji’s exposed shoulders, the way the wet fabric of his bath wrap clung to his lean frame, and—

Well.

He wasn’t disappointed with the view.

A slow grin spread across Wei Wuxian’s face, his earlier panic momentarily forgotten.

“Well, I mean… If I had to fall somewhere, this isn’t exactly a bad—”

Lan Wangji’s entire body tensed.
His ears burned bright red.

The next thing Wei Wuxian knew, Bichen was flying toward him.

“Lan Zhan! Wait, wait, wait—”

With a yelp, he ducked, barely dodging the blade. The movement sent him stumbling, and before he could right himself, he slipped on the slick tiles and—

SPLASH!

Water erupted around them as Wei Wuxian flailed, his arms reaching out to grab something—anything—to stabilize himself.

Unfortunately for Lan Wangji, that something happened to be him.

Lan Wangji barely had time to react before Wei Wuxian’s hands grasped his waist, pulling him down with him into the water.

More splashing.
More flailing.
And then—
Stillness.

Wei Wuxian surfaced first, sputtering. His grip remained firm on Lan Wangji’s waist, the warmth of his body sending a spark through his fingertips.

Lan Wangji’s face was right there.

His golden eyes, wide and bright with shock, locked onto Wei Wuxian’s. Their noses nearly brushed, their lips close enough that Wei Wuxian could feel Lan Wangji’s breath against his skin. The water lapped gently around them, rippling softly in the dim candlelight.

For a long, heavy moment, neither of them moved.

Then—

Lan Wangji pushed him away. Hard.

Wei Wuxian barely had time to react before Bichen was once again pointed at his throat.

His heart still hammering from the sudden closeness, he smirked.

“Lan Zhan, you’re blushing.”

Lan Wangji’s expression darkened.

Wei Wuxian watched as Lan Wangji’s eyes flickered downward, likely realizing how his bath wrap was now completely soaked, clinging even tighter to his form. His entire body turned stiff.

A second later, his ears flamed red, and he immediately sat down in the water, submerging himself up to his neck.

Wei Wuxian couldn’t help it.

He laughed. Loudly.

The contrast between Lan Wangji’s usual composure and his current mortified state was absolutely priceless.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian teased, leaning on the edge of the pool. “You look cute like this.”

Lan Wangji gritted his teeth.
“OUT.”

“Oh, come on! It was just an accident. But…” Wei Wuxian trailed off, resting his chin on his palm, eyes twinkling.
“I have to say, this is a very nice bath. Should I join you more often?”

Lan Wangji looked like he was two seconds away from murdering him.

Before he could retaliate, a voice interrupted.

“WHAT IN THE NAME OF HEAVEN IS GOING ON?!”

Lan Weiqi’s shrill voice cut through the air like a blade.

Wei Wuxian turned just in time to see the young disciple standing at the entrance, his face a mixture of horror and disbelief. His gaze darted from the wreckage of the ceiling, to the bath, and finally to Lan Wangji—who was still submerged in the water, looking both murderous and mortified.

Lan Weiqi paled.

“W–WEI WUXIAN! WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

Wei Wuxian burst out laughing.

Lan Wangji, however, had had enough.

Grabbing the nearest object—his hairbrush—he hurled it at Wei Wuxian’s head.

Wei Wuxian barely dodged in time, his laughter echoing through the halls as he made a run for it, soaking wet and entirely unrepentant, leaving behind a fuming, drenched, and utterly done Lan Wangji.

Lan Weiqi stared between the destroyed ceiling, the steaming bath, and the discarded hairbrush.

He blinked.

“…Huh?”

_________________

Wei Wuxian sprinted through the darkened corridors of Cloud Recesses, his laughter echoing through the silent night.

His robes fluttered behind him, his shoulders shaking as he tried to suppress the fresh bursts of chuckles bubbling up. He had barely escaped Lan Wangji’s wrath, narrowly avoiding getting skewered by Bichen and, most amusingly, witnessing the rare sight of Lan Zhan blushing.

Lan Zhan! Blushing!

That thought alone sent him into another fit of laughter as he stumbled toward his assigned quarters. He was still breathless, grinning ear to ear, when he pushed open the wooden doors.

Inside, Jiang Cheng was already waiting for him, arms crossed, his dark eyes narrowed in suspicion. He had been half-asleep, only to be rudely awakened by the sound of his idiot senior brother cackling like a madman in the middle of the night.

Jiang Cheng sighed in exasperation.

“What the hell are you laughing at in the dead of night?”

Wei Wuxian barely managed to contain himself as he leaned against the doorframe for support. He waved a hand dismissively, still breathless.

“Ah, nothing, nothing—just… Lan Zhan, ahahaha!”

Another chuckle escaped before he could stop it.

Jiang Cheng raised an eyebrow.

“Lan Wangji?”

Wei Wuxian coughed into his fist, shaking his head, trying to suppress his grin.

“I… might have accidentally stumbled into his private time.”

Jiang Cheng’s brows furrowed.

“What private time?”

Wei Wuxian, still chuckling, waved him off again.

“Forget it, forget it! Just know it was… ah, a very revealing experience.”

Jiang Cheng’s expression darkened with a mix of concern and irritation.

“Wei Wuxian,” he said, voice tight,
“what the hell did you do?”

“Nothing!” Wei Wuxian said immediately, straightening up.

“It’s not my fault that I—”
He stopped mid-sentence, his mind flashing back to that moment.

The steam rising in the dim candlelight.
The way Lan Wangji’s damp silk robe clung to his body.
His fair skin, exposed shoulders, and the water droplets gliding down his collarbone.
His normally impassive golden eyes wide with shock.
The way his ears had burned red, and—

Wei Wuxian abruptly stopped moving.
His smile faded.

Why was he… thinking about this?

His gaze drifted to the floor as his heartbeat suddenly pounded in his ears. The laughter that had bubbled so easily in his chest moments ago was gone, replaced with something heavier—
something unfamiliar.

The room around him suddenly felt stifling.

He tugged at the collar of his robes, fanning himself slightly.

“Damn, why is it so hot in here?”

Jiang Cheng stared at him as if he had grown two heads.

“It’s not hot. It’s the middle of the night in the mountains.”

Wei Wuxian frowned, shaking his head.

“No, really, it’s too warm.”
He tugged at his collar again, trying to loosen the fabric around his neck.
“Did someone light extra incense or something? I feel like I’m burning up.”

Jiang Cheng’s expression twisted in confusion.

“Are you sick? Did you drink again?”

Wei Wuxian shook his head, but his fingers kept pulling at his robes, trying to get some air. His body felt uncomfortably warm, almost feverish. He exhaled slowly, trying to shake the feeling away, but the image of Lan Wangji—flushed, wet, and wide-eyed— lingered stubbornly in his mind.

What was wrong with him?!

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jiang Cheng snapped.

Wei Wuxian blinked rapidly, trying to clear his head.

“I… I don’t know, it’s just…”
His voice trailed off as he pressed a hand against his forehead, frowning. The heat crawling over his skin felt unnatural.

Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes.

“Where exactly were you just now?”

The question jolted Wei Wuxian back to reality.

The demon!!

He straightened abruptly, his body stiffening as he finally remembered what he had been doing before his accidental bathhouse intrusion.

“There was a demon,” he said, his tone suddenly serious.

Jiang Cheng’s expression darkened.

“A what?”

Wei Wuxian turned to him, nodding.

“I sensed its presence earlier. I followed it across Cloud Recesses, and it led me right to Lan Zhan’s quarters.”

Jiang Cheng frowned.

“Are you saying a demon infiltrated Cloud Recesses and got that close to Lan Wangji?”

Wei Wuxian crossed his arms, nodding again.

“Exactly. I was tracking it, but then—”

He hesitated, suddenly remembering how he had ended up crashing through Lan Wangji’s roof. He coughed, looking away.

“Er… things happened.”

Jiang Cheng glared.

“What things?”

Wei Wuxian quickly waved him off.

“Not important. What is important is that the demon didn’t attack me directly—it ran. Which means it wasn’t after me. It was sent for Lan Wangji.”

Jiang Cheng’s frown deepened.

“Sent? You think this was deliberate?”

Wei Wuxian nodded, his expression grave.

“If I had to guess, I’d say Wen Ruohan is behind this.”

At that name, Jiang Cheng’s expression hardened.

Wen Ruohan—the terrifying leader of the Wen Clan, a master of demonic cultivation and the source of endless problems in the cultivation world.

If he was sending demons after Lan Wangji, then this was serious.

Wei Wuxian rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“It’s strange, though. The demon didn’t attack immediately. It was lurking, hiding in Lan Wangji’s quarters. It was waiting for something.”

Jiang Cheng exhaled sharply.

“Then it’ll come out again.”

Wei Wuxian grinned.

“Exactly. And when it does, I’ll be ready for it.”

Jiang Cheng crossed his arms.

“You think you can handle it alone?”

Wei Wuxian smirked, his usual playfulness returning.

“Come on, Jiang Cheng. You know me. I can handle a little demon.”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes.

“Just don’t do anything stupid.”

Wei Wuxian grinned wider.

“When have I ever—”

“All the time.”

Wei Wuxian laughed, but his mind was already working through his plan.

The demon was still out there, and it was after Lan Wangji. That meant he needed to stay close—watch for signs, keep an eye on things.

He stretched his arms above his head, the lingering heat in his body finally beginning to subside.

“Alright, alright. I’ll be careful. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to sleep off this very eventful night.”

Jiang Cheng shot him one last suspicious look before grumbling and turning away.

Wei Wuxian climbed onto his bed, exhaling as he lay back against the pillows. The room was quiet again, the mountain air cool and still.

His mind should have been focused on the demon.
On Wen Ruohan.
On the dangers ahead.

But instead…

His thoughts drifted.

Golden eyes.
Flushed cheeks.
The way Lan Wangji had looked at him in shock—
Water glistening on his pale skin, the soaked silk clinging to every sharp line of his form, long dark hair flowing like ink in the water.

Wei Wuxian groaned, covering his face with both hands.

He was never going to be able to look at Lan Wangji the same way again.

__________________

The moon hung high over the Cloud Recesses, casting silver light across the tranquil halls.

The entire mountain seemed asleep, but Wei Wuxian had never been one for stillness.

He sat on the rooftop, legs dangling over the edge, a jar of stolen Emperor’s Smile cradled in his hand.

The night was quiet—too quiet.
It was the kind of silence that felt watchful, as if something unseen lingered just beyond the edge of perception.

Wei Wuxian had never feared the unknown.
But tonight, he felt it watching back.

His fingers tapped idly against the clay of the wine jar.

“Strange,” he murmured.
“The air feels different here.”

From below, the faint sound of soft footfalls broke the silence.

Wei Wuxian smirked.
He knew who it was before even looking.

“Lan Zhan,” he called out lazily, tilting his head back to peer down at the approaching figure.
“Couldn’t sleep? Or did you come to arrest me?”

Lan Wangji stood in the courtyard, arms folded behind his back.
He was dressed in white, as always, but under the moonlight, it made him look almost… unreal.

The silver glow illuminated the delicate embroidery of his robes, the long fall of his dark hair, the way his golden eyes gleamed in the dimness.

Wei Wuxian’s teasing words caught in his throat.

There it was again—
that strange weight in the air,
the feeling that Lan Wangji was something more than he appeared to be.

A breeze stirred between them, carrying the faint scent of sandalwood and cold spring water.

Lan Wangji regarded him for a long moment before speaking.

“You are breaking the rules.”

Wei Wuxian grinned.

“Which one?”

Lan Wangji exhaled softly, as if he had expected no less.

“Drinking. Being out past curfew. Trespassing on the rooftop.”

Wei Wuxian hummed.

“That’s at least three, isn’t it? Ah, I should be proud.”

Lan Wangji said nothing.
But his gaze lingered—not on the wine, not on the rules, but on Wei Wuxian himself.

A thought struck Wei Wuxian then, unbidden and unwelcome.

Why does he always find me?

There were hundreds of disciples in the Cloud Recesses. Hundreds of rule-breakers, surely.
And yet, every time, it was Lan Wangji who crossed his path.
Lan Wangji who looked at him like he knew something Wei Wuxian didn’t.

He tipped the wine jar, letting the golden liquid catch the light.

“What do you think, Lan Zhan?” he mused.
“Maybe we met in a past life. Maybe I was a terrible influence then too.”

Lan Wangji’s fingers twitched slightly.
The smallest movement—so small that most wouldn’t notice.
But Wei Wuxian did.

He always noticed.

“That is nonsense,” Lan Wangji said, but his voice was quieter now, less certain.

Wei Wuxian leaned forward, intrigued.

“You don’t believe in fate?”

Lan Wangji’s jaw tightened.

“Fate is a concept often misunderstood.”

A non-answer.
Interesting.

Wei Wuxian smirked, watching him closely.

“Then tell me—if you don’t believe in fate, why do you keep ending up in my path?”

Lan Wangji stilled.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The night stretched between them, filled only with the rustling of leaves, the distant song of crickets.

Then, finally—so softly it was almost lost to the wind—

Lan Wangji said,
“I do not know.”

Wei Wuxian’s smirk faded.

For the first time, Lan Wangji wasn’t giving him a reprimand or a lecture.

He was admitting something he didn’t understand.
Something neither of them did.

A breeze passed between them again, and Wei Wuxian suddenly had the strangest feeling—
as if he were standing at the edge of something vast,
something he wasn’t meant to see yet.

Lan Wangji turned away first.

“Return to your quarters.”

Wei Wuxian let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Yes, yes, Hanguang-jun, mighty upholder of justice.”

Lan Wangji didn’t respond.
He simply walked away, his white robes disappearing into the shadows.

Wei Wuxian stayed on the rooftop for a long time after, staring up at the stars.

Why do you keep ending up in my path?

He laughed softly to himself, shaking his head.

“What nonsense.”

And yet—
he still felt it.

That weight.
That strange inevitability.

As if the world itself was shifting
just to bring them closer together.

__________________

The scent of ink and old parchment filled the air as Wei Wuxian pushed open the heavy wooden door to the library.

The soft rustle of pages and the quiet scratch of a calligraphy brush greeted him as his eyes scanned the room.

There, in the farthest corner, sat Lan Wangji, surrounded by towering shelves of books, seated at a wooden desk, his posture as pristine and rigid as ever.

Lan Wangji was engrossed in his work, a calligraphy brush held delicately in his hand, moving gracefully across the paper as he practiced the elegant strokes of a well-revered scripture.

His face was focused, his brows furrowed in concentration, though the soft golden glow from the lanterns above bathed his face in a serene light.

Wei Wuxian paused for a moment to take in the sight, his lips curling into an amused smile.

His cheeks burned, unbidden heat rising as his thoughts drifted—
the previous night,
the bath,
Lan Wangji’s voice breaking,
the way water had traced down his collarbone...

He shut that door in his mind, quickly.

How could someone so beautiful be so frustratingly proper?

Without thinking any further about the past, Wei Wuxian made his way to the desk, his footsteps light but purposeful.

The sound of his approach was enough to break the silence in the room, and Lan Wangji’s eyes flicked up from his work, meeting Wei Wuxian’s gaze with an unreadable expression.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian greeted him casually, using his favorite nickname.

He leaned against the edge of the desk, watching as Lan Wangji carefully placed the brush back in its holder before turning to face him.

“Complete your punishment quietly,” Lan Wangji said, his voice calm but stern. He returned to his calligraphy without further acknowledgment.

Wei Wuxian’s grin widened.

“Punishment? You mean that little thing? It’s not that bad, is it?”

He was referring to the ridiculous number of times he had been assigned to copy the Three Thousand Rules of the Cloud Recesses—a punishment that had been bestowed upon him by Lan Qiren earlier that day.

It seemed a trivial matter to Wei Wuxian, but it was something Lan Qiren would not let go of. Not for a second.

“Why so serious? You really don’t know how to have fun, do you, Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian continued, his tone light and teasing, hoping to get under Lan Wangji’s skin.

Lan Wangji remained unfazed, as usual.
He simply gave Wei Wuxian a pointed look, then continued writing, the tip of his brush barely touching the paper with calculated precision.

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes, leaning closer.

“I mean, come on,” he whined,
“it’s not like I’m breaking any rules. I’m just having a little fun!”

He dropped his voice into a playful, sing-song tone.

“Come on, can’t we just make this a little more entertaining?”

Lan Wangji sighed, his expression softening ever so slightly, but he didn’t say anything.

Wei Wuxian took that as an invitation to continue his antics.

He suddenly leaned in even closer, lowering his voice, deliberately lacing it with flirtation.

“You know, Lan Zhan, you should smile more. You look so much better when you do.”

His voice was teasing, coaxing, as he brushed a hand near Lan Wangji’s shoulder in what could only be described as an exaggerated flirtation.

Lan Wangji’s face flushed just slightly, the barest hint of pink staining his normally composed features.
He turned his head to the side, clearly trying to maintain his stoic mask, even as Wei Wuxian’s antics clearly got to him.

Wei Wuxian noticed—
the way Lan Wangji’s hand tightened around the brush for just a moment—
and he couldn’t help but find it incredibly amusing.

“Stop it,” Lan Wangji said, his voice quieter but still firm, lips barely moving.

But Wei Wuxian was never one to back down.

“Aww, come on! Why so cold, Lan Zhan?”
“Surely a beautiful omega like you deserves to be appreciated. I mean, has anyone ever called you…” he leaned in, voice a hushed whisper now,
“boring?”

He smirked.
“I think you need to loosen up. A little bit of fun would do you wonders.”

This time, Lan Wangji’s reaction was not one of irritation or even surprise.

It was swift.

His hand moved like a blur, and before Wei Wuxian could react, he had placed a silencing spell on him.

The invisible barrier washed over Wei Wuxian’s body, and he felt the words on his tongue freeze. A small gasp escaped him—but no sound followed.

He raised his hand in mock defense, eyes wide, but the playful glint in them remained.
He arched an eyebrow as if to challenge Lan Wangji’s bold move.

Lan Wangji, his face expressionless, simply returned to his calligraphy, the tip of his brush tracing steady, fluid lines as if nothing had happened.

Wei Wuxian could only watch, a mix of annoyance and amusement rising in his chest at being silenced.

But he wasn’t going to give up.
Oh no, Wei Wuxian never gave up so easily.

He pouted, rolling his eyes as his mind immediately began to formulate a plan.

He could break the silencing spell in an instant—after all, it was no match for him.
But something about the way Lan Wangji looked so self-satisfied with his quiet little victory stirred Wei Wuxian’s curiosity.

He wanted to see how long the other man would hold out before cracking.

So instead of dispelling the spell, Wei Wuxian let it be.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he turned his attention back to Lan Wangji.
He could see the faint tension in the omega’s shoulders, his posture just a touch stiffer than usual.

Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but enjoy the small victory—
he had, for once, managed to make Lan Wangji break his composed mask.
And it felt strangely satisfying.

For the next few moments, Wei Wuxian simply sat there, arms crossed, watching Lan Wangji write.
He stared intently, gaze fixed on the graceful movements of the brush.

Lan Wangji, to his credit, seemed completely focused on his task—
as if he wasn’t hyper-aware of the quiet storm brewing beside him.

Wei Wuxian was nothing if not persistent.

He leaned back in his seat with a theatrical sigh, crossing one leg over the other and folding his arms again.
His lips curled into a mischievous smile, and the glint in his eyes made it perfectly clear:
he wasn’t done yet.

The silence between them stretched on for what felt like an eternity—though it had only been a few minutes.

Finally, when Wei Wuxian could no longer bear the quiet, he began to fidget.

He huffed dramatically, slamming his hand down on the table, pretending to be frustrated.

Lan Wangji finally paused mid-stroke, his eyes flicking to Wei Wuxian.

Without saying a word, he raised a hand.

The silencing spell dissolved in an instant.

The pressure around Wei Wuxian’s chest lifted, and he let out a relieved breath.

“Lan Zhan, you really are a buzzkill,” Wei Wuxian teased, his voice slightly strained from the momentary silence.

Lan Wangji didn’t respond.

He simply returned to his work, as if Wei Wuxian’s antics had never occurred.

But Wei Wuxian caught it—
a brief flicker of flush at the nape of Lan Wangji’s neck.
He smiled to himself.
He had gotten under his skin.

Finally settling down—for now—Wei Wuxian picked up his own brush and began his punishment.

He scrawled the opening lines of the rules, barely paying attention to them.
His eyes kept drifting sideways, watching Lan Wangji.

The omega was the very image of control: calm, composed, focused.
His strokes were flawless, elegant, every movement practiced to perfection.
Even now, Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but admire him.

Despite all his teasing, despite all the jokes and games,
he couldn’t deny that there was something captivating about Lan Wangji.

His stillness.
His grace.
That quiet strength.

There was a magnetism in it all—
one that Wei Wuxian couldn’t quite explain.

But for now, he had rules to copy.
Or at least pretend to.

Still, the idea of continuing to tease Lan Wangji danced at the edge of his thoughts.

He smirked down at the parchment, twirling the brush in his fingers.

He wasn’t finished with his game just yet.

_________________

The quiet hum of the library was almost soothing.

The only sounds were the rustling of paper, the faint scratch of a quill on parchment, and the occasional turning of a page.

Wei Wuxian had never been the type to sit still for long, but the punishment from Lan Qiren was wearing him down.

His eyes grew heavy as the weight of hours spent on his task pressed upon him.
Every now and then, his hand would falter, his thoughts drifting—
drifting to other things.
Like how Lan Wangji’s stoic face had been occupying his mind far more than he’d like to admit.

Wei Wuxian shifted in his seat, the wooden chair creaking under his slight frame.

His fingers ached from the repetitive motion of writing the rules.
His head began to droop.

He yawned, not even bothering to stifle it.
His eyelids grew heavier with every passing second.
Eventually, he let his chin rest on his hand—just for a moment.

But that moment stretched.

Before long, he had slipped into a light doze.

The world around him blurred.
The rows upon rows of bookshelves melted into a haze.
In his half-dreaming state, he felt oddly at peace—
as if the mundane weight of the world had been temporarily lifted.

---

Suddenly, a shift in the room stirred him.

A movement.

Wei Wuxian blinked groggily, lifting his head just in time to see Lan Wangji moving—walking slowly toward the window.

There was something about his posture that caught Wei Wuxian’s attention.

Lan Wangji’s usually impassive face bore a rare look of fascination.
His sharp golden eyes were locked onto something just beyond the glass.

His footsteps were slow.
Deliberate.

The usual cold composure was replaced with something… soft.
Something dazed.

Wei Wuxian straightened in his seat, brow furrowing in mild confusion.

What could possibly capture Lan Wangji’s attention like that?

The window showed nothing unusual.
No scrolls. No rare books. Certainly no beautiful women floating through the Cloud Recesses at this hour.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian called out, voice low.

No response.

Lan Wangji didn’t even glance back.

His gaze remained fixed, eyes distant—entranced.

Wei Wuxian frowned, perplexed.

Normally, Lan Wangji was as sharp as a blade—always alert, always aware of his surroundings.
For him to be this distracted...

It didn’t sit right with him.

His curiosity piqued, Wei Wuxian leaned forward, squinting at the window, trying to see what could have possibly enraptured the ever-stoic Lan Wangji.

But all he saw was the plain courtyard below.
A few swaying trees.
The moonlight dusting the gravel paths.

Nothing unusual.

Nothing that should have held Lan Wangji’s gaze so completely.

There was something off about this.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Wei Wuxian drew on his power.
His eyes gleamed crimson, and the soft hum of dark energy curled around his body.

The air thickened.

As his enhanced vision focused on the window, the world shifted.

What had once appeared to be an ordinary bird perched on the windowsill now shimmered with an unnatural glow.

It wasn’t a bird at all.

It was something far more sinister—
an illusion demon.

A dangerous entity capable of enchantment and manipulation, feeding on the vulnerabilities of those who succumbed to its spell.

Wei Wuxian’s heart quickened.
This was serious.

An illusion demon was no minor threat—especially not to someone unaware they were being targeted.

And Lan Wangji, for once, hadn’t noticed a thing.

Wei Wuxian leapt to his feet, crossing the distance in a blur.

“Lan Zhan, no!”
Wei Wuxian’s voice cut sharply through the air as he yanked Lan Wangji away from the window—
just as the bird—no, the illusion demon—fluttered its wings and dissolved into vapor.

Lan Wangji let out a soft gasp, his body jolting as he stumbled forward, completely disoriented.
Before he could process what had happened, he collapsed against Wei Wuxian’s chest.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Lan Wangji’s breath came in shallow bursts, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he fought the lingering panic curling through him.
The haze of the illusion hadn’t entirely faded. His golden eyes were wide, unfocused, clouded with confusion.

He tried to pull away.

His body thrashed weakly, instinctively trying to escape the arms suddenly wrapped around him.

But Wei Wuxian held firm.

“Lan Zhan, calm down,” he murmured gently, his voice steady, insistent.
“It’s alright. You’re safe now. You were caught in an illusion.”

Lan Wangji froze.

For one heart-stopping moment, his eyes met Wei Wuxian’s.
They were filled with fear, disbelief—and something painfully vulnerable.

His pulse pounded beneath Wei Wuxian’s fingers.

The panic hadn’t yet passed.

Wei Wuxian hesitated for only a second. Then, moving with trained precision, he reached up and pressed a pressure point just behind Lan Wangji’s ear.

The reaction was immediate.

Lan Wangji’s body slackened in his arms. His eyes fluttered closed, lashes trembling as he fell into a light, dreamless sleep.

Wei Wuxian exhaled a slow, shaky breath.
Relief poured through him.

He caught him in time.

Adjusting his grip, he lifted Lan Wangji easily—
cradling him in a bridal carry, the way one would a wounded prince or a lover too exhausted to walk.

Lan Wangji’s head rested gently against his shoulder, his long dark hair slipping like silk over Wei Wuxian’s arm.

Too close, Wei Wuxian thought, heart still hammering.
That demon had nearly entranced him completely.

And now, the weight of Lan Wangji in his arms only made that reality hit harder.

For a moment, Wei Wuxian just stood there, holding Lan Wangji in his arms.

The weight of him, the way his head rested so naturally against Wei Wuxian’s chest—
the way his body fit so perfectly in his arms—

It was almost… intimate.

Wei Wuxian’s heart thudded hard.
He wasn’t sure why.

Lan Wangji looked so small like this.
So still.
So vulnerable.

Stripped of his rigid posture and his eternal composure, he seemed almost fragile—
as if a strong gust of wind might blow him away.

Wei Wuxian swallowed, throat dry.
Lan Wangji was always a mystery, but like this… he was something else entirely.

Something that made Wei Wuxian’s chest ache.

He shook his head quickly, forcing the thought away.

Now wasn’t the time.

Reaching into his robes, he pulled out a talisman etched in dark ink. With a quiet breath, he activated the spell.

The world shimmered around him.

A pulse of energy, and in a blink, the library vanished.

They reappeared in the quiet sanctuary of Lan Wangji’s quarters.

The room was immaculate, serene, and faintly scented with sandalwood.
Everything was in its place—books aligned, bed neatly made, not a single thread out of order.

Wei Wuxian gently lowered Lan Wangji onto the bed, careful not to wake him.
He adjusted the pillow beneath his head, then pulled the blankets over him with a tenderness he didn’t quite understand.

He lingered.

Just for a second.

Then he stepped back, letting out a slow breath.

Why had it affected him so much?

The demon had been relatively weak. An illusion type—not the kind that could cause much damage unless the target was already vulnerable.

But Lan Wangji...
Lan Wangji had fallen under its influence instantly.

Why?

Wei Wuxian sat at the edge of the bed, eyes fixed on Lan Wangji’s peaceful face.
He looked so young when asleep. So unguarded.

Too unguarded.

Something in Wei Wuxian’s chest stirred again. A heaviness. A pull.
It wasn’t just concern.

It was more. And he didn’t know what to do with that.

All he knew was that this strange connection between them—
this invisible thread—
was growing stronger with every passing day.

And it scared him.

Just a little.

For now, all he could do was wait.
Watch.

With a quiet sigh, Wei Wuxian leaned back in the chair beside the bed.
He let his eyes close—just for a moment.

Waiting for Lan Wangji to wake.

______________________

Chapter Text

A soft golden glow illuminated the quiet chambers of the Jingshi as Wei Wuxian materialized inside, cradling Lan Wangji in his arms.

The rush of teleportation faded, leaving behind only the stillness of the room and the sound of his own heartbeat, which pounded fiercely against his ribs. His grip on Lan Wangji tightened momentarily before he forced himself to relax.

His decision to use a transportation talisman had been instinctual. He couldn't let anyone see Lan Wangji like this—dazed, unconscious, and utterly vulnerable. Not only because it was Lan Wangji, the esteemed Second Jade of Gusu, but because something inside him recoiled at the thought of others witnessing this side of him. It felt too personal, too intimate.
And so, without a second thought, he had brought him here, away from prying eyes.

The moment he stepped further into the room, a new sensation hit him like a tidal wave.

A scent.

It was everywhere—subtle yet potent, clinging to the air, wrapping around him in invisible tendrils that sent something unexplainable shivering down his spine. It was Lan Wangji's scent.

Wei Wuxian's breath hitched. How had he never smelled it before? Lan Wangji always wore a scent-blocking talisman, so no one knew what he actually smelled like. But now, with him unconscious and his defenses lowered, it filled every corner of the Jingshi.

It was… intoxicating.

A rich, elegant blend of sandalwood, lotus, and the faintest trace of something sweet, like the first touch of spring after winter’s cold. It was nothing like what Wei Wuxian had imagined—not stiff, not distant. It was warm. Soft. Safe.

He forced himself to shake off the strange thoughts clouding his mind and gently laid Lan Wangji down on the bed. His movements were uncharacteristically careful as if handling something fragile.

Wei Wuxian lowered himself to one knee beside the bed, brushing away a stray strand of ink-dark hair that had fallen across Lan Wangji’s serene face.

Even unconscious, he looked ethereal.
Wei Wuxian had always known Lan Wangji was beautiful. But up close, like this, with no sharp eyes glaring at him, no icy mask concealing his emotions, Lan Wangji looked almost…
too much to bear.

The dim candlelight softened his features, casting a warm glow over pale skin, highlighting the graceful curve of his lips, the delicate arch of his brows.

Wei Wuxian swallowed, forcing his gaze away. Now wasn't the time for distractions.

The illusion demon.

His expression hardened. That thing had almost ensnared Lan Wangji in its spell. What if Wei Wuxian hadn’t been there? What if Lan Wangji had stepped forward and fallen into the illusion entirely?

No.

His jaw clenched. He wouldn’t allow anything—anyone—to harm Lan Wangji.

Determined, Wei Wuxian reached forward, pressing two fingers against Lan Wangji’s wrist to check his pulse. His fingers tingled against the warm skin, but he ignored it, focusing on the steady rhythm beneath his fingertips. His brows furrowed slightly. His pulse was strong, stable—too stable for someone who had just fallen under a demonic illusion.

Suspicious.

Wei Wuxian withdrew his fingers and narrowed his eyes. Just to be certain, he called upon his power.

His eyes glowed a deep crimson as resentful energy thrummed around him. Raising a hand, he drew a formation in the air, a complex pattern glowing red above Lan Wangji’s chest. The spiritual energy pulsed once, twice, before settling, scanning for any traces of foreign influence.

Nothing.

Not a single taint of resentful energy clung to Lan Wangji’s body.

Wei Wuxian exhaled in relief but then—a flicker.

A faint glow.

Wei Wuxian’s gaze snapped downward, following the faint golden shimmer that pulsed under the layers of Lan Wangji’s robes—at his waist.

His brows knit together in confusion. What was that? A seal? A protection charm?

His curiosity flared before he could stop himself. Without thinking, he reached forward, fingers brushing against the sash tied around Lan Wangji’s waist.

His hands worked swiftly, untying the first knot with practiced ease. He had barely begun loosening the layers when— Lan Wangji's face caught his attention.

A sharp breath left Wei Wuxian’s lips as his gaze landed on the other man’s features.

He looked...

Peaceful. Exposed. Innocent.

Wei Wuxian felt his heartbeat stutter. His fingers trembled against the silk fabric before he abruptly snatched his hands back as if burned.

A sharp pang of something he couldn’t name shot through his chest.

Panic.

His face burned as heat rushed to his ears, and his heart hammered against his ribs.

Why—why was he reacting like this? It was just Lan Wangji. Just checking for a demonic mark. Why did it suddenly feel like he had done something unforgivable?

His breath came fast and uneven as he scrambled back, his movements clumsy in a way they never were. He grabbed the blanket at the foot of the bed and hastily covered Lan Wangji, as if to erase the moment that had just passed.

He needed air. Immediately.

Wei Wuxian bolted from the Jingshi, his steps rushed, his heartbeat an erratic mess. The second he stepped outside, he inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the crisp night air. His head was still spinning, and his hands wouldn’t stop trembling.

“What the hell just happened…?” he muttered under his breath.

His mind reeled.

Had it been the scent? The sheer intimacy of the moment? Or was it the way Lan Wangji had looked so utterly unguarded in his arms?

Wei Wuxian ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the feeling, but his heart refused to calm. He had faced armies, spirits, demons, and warlords without so much as flinching. So why had a single glance at Lan Wangji made him feel like he was standing on the edge of a cliff?

Wei Wuxian swallowed hard, willing his pulse to slow. Now was not the time to dwell on this.

He forced himself to remember why he had brought Lan Wangji back in the first place—the
illusion demon.

His eyes darkened, the playful light in them vanishing, replaced with something sharp.

That demon had tried to enchant Lan Wangji. Tried to take him away.

Unforgivable.

Wei Wuxian’s lips curled into a rare, cold smirk. “You dared to lay your tricks on Lan Zhan? How bold,” he muttered, his fingers already forming the symbols for a tracking spell. He was going to find it. And when he did—

His crimson eyes gleamed in the moonlight. It was going to regret ever crossing him.

_______________________________

The night was calm, but Wei Wuxian could feel the storm brewing beneath its stillness. His fingers curled as he traced the faint remnants of the illusion demon’s energy, its presence flickering like dying embers, attempting to scatter before he could grasp hold of it.

But it was too late.

Wei Wuxian’s crimson gaze sharpened as he followed the invisible trail, his steps silent as he moved through the corridors of Cloud Recesses.

His destination became clearer with each passing moment—the training grounds.

The moon hung low, casting a pale glow over the gathered Lan disciples as they practiced their sword forms in synchrony, their movements precise and disciplined. But Wei Wuxian’s attention wasn’t on them.

His gaze locked onto Su She.

At first glance, there was nothing unusual about him. He stood among the others, his expression neutral, mirroring his fellow disciples in form. But Wei Wuxian knew better. The illusion demon had entered him.

Wei Wuxian approached without hesitation, weaving past the rows of disciples until he stood beside Su She.

The moment he got close, the faintest flicker of amusement passed through Su She’s eyes, as if he had been expecting him.

Wei Wuxian leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so that only Su She could hear.
“You’ve been exposed,” he murmured, his tone casual but laced with warning. “So, why don’t you quietly follow me?”

Su She remained still for a heartbeat. Then, he smirked. The expression was subtle, but it was filled with mockery. His eyes gleamed with the
confidence of a creature that knew it couldn’t be touched. A message passed unspoken between them—what could a mere human do to him, especially here, in the presence of so many others?

Wei Wuxian understood that smirk perfectly.

But it was a mistake.

Wei Wuxian’s own lips curled upward, but his smile held no warmth. It was cold, sharp, and utterly merciless.

In the span of a breath, the world shifted.

The air trembled. A ripple of energy surged from Wei Wuxian, and in an instant—the entire training ground froze.

Everything stopped.

The wind stilled. The rustling of trees ceased. The disciples, caught mid-motion, became as
motionless as statues. It was as if time itself had halted for everyone except Wei Wuxian and
Su She.

Su She’s smirk vanished. His eyes widened in sheer disbelief as he whipped around to face
Wei Wuxian.

“…What… are you?” he breathed, his voice laced with something bordering on fear. A mortal should not—could not—possess such power.

Wei Wuxian chuckled. Mocking. Amused. Deadly.

“A mere demon like you doesn’t deserve an answer.”

Before Su She could react, a violent force erupted from within him.

The illusion demon screamed.

Dark smoke exploded from Su She’s body as the demon was forcefully ripped out, thrown onto the ground like a discarded corpse. Su She crumpled to the side, unconscious, his body
trembling in shock.

The illusion demon snarled, its form flickering erratically like a dying flame. Shadows coiled
around it, its power surging as it lashed out toward Wei Wuxian.

The attack never landed.

The second the dark energy reached him, it vanished into thin air.

The illusion demon froze.

Impossible.

Panic seeped into its glowing eyes as it tried again, this time pouring all of its strength into the devastating attack. It surged forward, its power condensing into razor-sharp threads meant to pierce through Wei Wuxian’s soul.
But the moment they reached him—They disappeared.

Not deflected. Not absorbed. Just… gone.

Erased.

A hollow silence followed.

Wei Wuxian tilted his head, studying the demon’s growing terror with an almost lazy
amusement.

“Ah,” he said, his voice light, almost teasing. “Are you done?”

The illusion demon bolted.
It didn’t hesitate. It didn’t even try to fight back. It ran.

But it never got far.

Wei Wuxian’s gaze darkened, and with a single glance, the illusion demon’s body froze in place.
It struggled, trying to move, but its limbs remained locked. Its very essence was trapped.

The demon’s eyes burned with rage and desperation. “You don’t understand what you’re
doing,” it hissed. “Wen Ruohan will not let this go. He is waiting for Lan Wangji. He will come
for him.”

Wei Wuxian’s expression turned ice-cold.
He would never let that happen.

“Is that so?” Wei Wuxian’s voice dropped, dangerous and low. “Then it’s too bad you won’t
be alive to tell him about me.”

The illusion demon’s body convulsed as black flames erupted from within it.

It screamed.

It burned.

And then—it was gone.

The moment the demon disappeared, the world shifted back into motion.

The wind returned. The trees whispered once more. The Lan disciples resumed their movements as if nothing had happened, unaware that for a brief moment, reality itself had fractured.

Wei Wuxian exhaled slowly, letting the last embers of power fade from his eyes.

His mind was calm. But beneath the surface, something coiled and twisted inside him—the
quiet fury of a hunter who had been provoked.

Let Wen Ruohan come.

Let him send every demon he had.

Wei Wuxian would slaughter them all.
And if anyone—anyone—even dared to look at Lan Wangji with ill intent?

They wouldn’t live to regret it.

__________________________________

Meanwhile, in the Demon Realm…

Wen Ruohan sat upon his throne of obsidian and bone.His fingers drummed idly against the armrest as he gazed down at the massive map before him. The territories of the mortal realm were marked with blood-red ink, with the Cloud
Recesses circled in black.

Lan Wangji would arrive soon.

Wen Ruohan’s lips curled into a slow, satisfied smile. He had spent decades planning this moment, weaving every thread of fate so that it would lead to one outcome—Lan Wangji, bound and broken before him, his power harnessed for
the demon realm.

Everything was falling into place.

And then—

A burned corpse fell at his feet.

The charred remains of the illusion demon landed in a crumpled heap before his throne, its
body still smoldering with the last remnants of unnatural flames. The air reeked of destruction.

Wen Ruohan’s smile vanished.

A slow, dangerous silence settled over the chamber.

Then—a pulse of raw fury.

The very walls trembled. Shadows flickered violently as the temperature in the room dropped.

Wen Ruohan’s voice, when it came, was lethal.
“…Who did this?”

The demons surrounding him exchanged uneasy glances, but none dared to speak.

Wen Ruohan rose from his throne, his eyes burning with pure wrath. Someone—some insolent fool—had dared to interfere with his plans.

Someone had killed his illusion demon.

His fingers twitched, power crackling at his fingertips, eager to tear the culprit apart.

“Find them,” he ordered, his voice deathly calm. “Find the one who did this. And bring them to me.”

He would rip them apart.
Whoever they were, they had just made a grave mistake.

___________________________________

The cool night air whispered through the trees of Cloud Recesses, carrying with it the faint scent of fresh grass and blooming lotuses from the nearby pond. The moon shone brightly, its silver light spilling over the white-walled buildings and the pristine stone pathways.

Most of the disciples were already asleep, their disciplined lives bound to strict curfews, but one
figure moved with careful stealth, his black robes blending into the shadows.

Wei Wuxian held a tightly sealed clay wine jar to his chest as he tiptoed through the secluded forest area at the farthest edge of Cloud Recesses. This part of the sect grounds was quiet, undisturbed, and, most importantly—rarely patrolled by the Lan disciples. It was the perfect hiding spot for his well-earned drink.

He smirked. "Lan Zhan and his rules can’t reach me here!"

His pace slowed as he reached the small clearing where soft tufts of grass covered the
ground. Several white rabbits hopped around, their little noses twitching as they nibbled on
leaves.

Wei Wuxian grinned at the sight.

"Well, at least I have company!" he chuckled, kneeling to stroke one of the fluffiest rabbits.

"Don't worry, little ones. Tonight, we share a great secret!" With exaggerated ceremony, he set the wine jar down and pulled out two small cups from his sleeve. He had prepared well—after all, drinking should always be done with some flair.

But just as he was about to pour the first cup, a cold, commanding voice shattered his peace.

"Wei Ying."

Wei Wuxian froze. His entire body stiffened before he turned his head ever so slowly.

Standing at the entrance to the clearing was none other than Lan Wangji. His white robes gleamed under the moonlight, his guqin slung over his back as if he had been in the middle of a quiet patrol. His golden eyes—sharp, clear, and utterly unamused—locked onto the wine jar with an intensity that made Wei Wuxian instinctively
clutch it closer.

Oh, shit.

Lan Wangji's gaze flickered from the wine jar to the two cups, then back to Wei Wuxian. His expression remained unreadable, but the way his brows furrowed ever so slightly spoke volumes.

Wei Wuxian gulped.

"Lan Zhan!" he greeted with forced cheer, standing up as if nothing was wrong. "Fancy
meeting you here! Out for a night stroll, are we?"

Lan Wangji stepped forward. "No alcohol in Cloud Recesses."

Wei Wuxian winced. "Ah, yes, yes, I know. But what if, just for tonight, we pretend the rules don’t exist?"

Lan Wangji's frown deepened. "Surrender it."

Wei Wuxian sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. "Lan Zhan, do you have no mercy? It’s just a little wine! Who’s it hurting?"

Lan Wangji’s tone remained unwavering. "Rules are rules."

Wei Wuxian clicked his tongue. “Ah, come on. Look at these rabbits! Wouldn’t you say they
deserve to witness a little fun?”

Lan Wangji ignored the ridiculous argument and extended his hand. "Hand it over."

Wei Wuxian gritted his teeth. This guy… how is he so stubborn?!

He glanced around, trying to think of a way out.

Then, as Lan Wangji turned slightly to glance at the rabbits—Wei Wuxian’s hand snapped forward, pressing a talisman onto Lan Wangji’s back.

A soft golden glow flickered as the spell activated.

Lan Wangji’s entire body stiffened for a moment before his posture relaxed unnaturally. His hand, once reaching for the wine, dropped back to his side. His expression lost its usual strictness, his golden eyes blinking slowly.

Wei Wuxian grinned. "There we go! So much better!"

Lan Wangji sat down beside him without resistance.

Wei Wuxian poured two cups of wine and handed one to Lan Wangji. “Here, drink with me!”

Lan Wangji, under the talisman’s influence, obediently lifted the cup to his lips and took a sip.

Wei Wuxian watched eagerly, waiting for a reaction. Maybe Lan Wangji would scrunch his
nose? Maybe he’d cough from the taste? Or—would he get drunk?

Seconds passed.

Lan Wangji remained still.

And then—

His head fell back onto the grass with a soft thud.

Wei Wuxian stared.

He blinked once. Then twice.

“…Lan Zhan?"

Silence.

Wei Wuxian leaned closer, poking Lan Wangji’s cheek.

Nothing.

Wei Wuxian pressed two fingers to Lan Wangji’s neck. His pulse was normal, his breathing steady.

“…Did you just—fall asleep?!”

Wei Wuxian let out a disbelieving laugh, throwing his head back. "HAHAHAHA! Lan Zhan! You—you’re not drunk, you just passed out!"

The Second Jade of Lan, the most disciplined cultivator in the world, had been defeated by a
single sip of wine.

Wei Wuxian wiped at his eyes, still laughing as he adjusted Lan Wangji’s posture, making him lean against the tree instead of lying on the ground. “Aiya, Lan Zhan. You really are something else.”

Seeing that Lan Wangji’s robes were thin, Wei Wuxian shrugged off his own outer robe and
draped it over him. The cool night air was light but carried a faint chill—he wasn’t about to let this fool catch a cold.

With his companion taken care of, Wei Wuxian turned his attention back to more pressing matters.

He reached into his robes, pulling out a communication talisman.

A small golden light flickered as he activated it.

"Xue Yang," he called.

A moment later, a familiar, cocky voice responded. "Young Master Wei! You’re calling me at such a late hour—did you miss me?"

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes. "Shut up. Give me an update."

Xue Yang chuckled. "Heh. Wen Ruohan’s in a frenzy. Ever since that illusion demon got wiped out, he’s been searching like a madman for the one who did it."

Wei Wuxian smirked. “Is that so?”

"You should be careful," Xue Yang warned, his voice unusually serious. "If Wen Ruohan gets even a whiff of your involvement—"

Wei Wuxian waved him off. "Please. That old bastard won’t find me unless I want him to."

Xue Yang laughed. "Cocky as always."

Wei Wuxian grinned, but before he could say anything else— A sudden shift in the air made his skin prickle.

A familiar presence washed over him like a cold wave.

His heart skipped a beat.

Slowly—he turned his head.

Lan Wangji was standing. He was no longer leaning against the tree, no longer asleep. He stood tall, his golden eyes locked onto Wei Wuxian, an unreadable expression on his face.

Wei Wuxian froze.

Lan Wangji was looking at him intently, as if he had seen something he wasn’t meant to.

The communication talisman flickered. Xue Yang’s voice crackled. "Oi, Young Master Wei?
You there?"
Wei Wuxian’s grip on the talisman tightened.

Lan Wangji took a step forward.

Wei Wuxian’s breath caught.

Shit.

Did he… hear everything?

Xue Yang must have noticed the sudden shift in Wei Wuxian’s demeanor because his voice came through the talisman, sharp and alert. “Oi, what’s wrong?”

Wei Wuxian didn’t answer.

Xue Yang followed his gaze—and saw Lan Wangji.

His reaction was immediate.

The talisman flickered once before the light vanished.

Wei Wuxian barely had time to process the change before Lan Wangji moved.

Wei Wuxian braced himself, expecting an argument, a scolding—anything. But instead—

Lan Wangji walked straight past him.

Wei Wuxian blinked, turning his head in confusion.

The stoic, righteous Second Jade of Lan walked toward the nearest tree, placed a hand on its rough bark—

—and then peeked out from behind it.

Wei Wuxian stared.

Lan Wangji’s golden eyes peered at him from the side of the tree, his lips pressed together, his expression oddly… innocent. Almost shy.

Wei Wuxian blinked again. Did he just… hide?

A sudden realization hit him.

The wine.

The single sip Lan Wangji had taken before passing out.

Oh, gods. Lan Wangji wasn’t just drunk. He was extremely drunk.

Wei Wuxian bit his lip, struggling to keep his laughter in.

“Lan Zhan…” he said slowly.

Lan Wangji didn’t answer. He simply peeked again, tilting his head just slightly before pulling
back behind the tree.

Wei Wuxian took a step forward.

Lan Wangji’s eyes widened—and he immediately darted behind another tree.

Wei Wuxian burst into laughter.
"AHAHAHAHA! Lan Zhan—Lan Zhan, what are you doing?!"

Lan Wangji peeked again from behind his new hiding spot, looking completely serious.

Wei Wuxian clutched his stomach. "Oh no, this is too much. Lan Zhan, you—you’re drunk!"

Lan Wangji’s lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to deny it—but instead, he simply hid his face behind the tree again.

Wei Wuxian wiped at his eyes, trying to catch his breath. The way Lan Wangji kept sneaking peeks at him—cautious, but also so undeniably adorable—was far too much for his heart to
handle.

"Alright, alright," Wei Wuxian said between laughs. "Do you want to play hide and seek, Lan
Zhan? Is that it?"

Silence.

Wei Wuxian grinned. "Fine, fine. This gege will play with you!"

He straightened, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeves before pointing at Lan Wangji
dramatically.

"But if I catch you, Lan Zhan has to do whatever I say! Deal?"

Lan Wangji peeked at him once more. His expression remained unreadable, but after a
moment—

He nodded.

Wei Wuxian smirked. "Then run as fast as you can!"

And just like that—the chase began.

Lan Wangji darted away, disappearing behind the trees like a swift shadow in white.

Wei Wuxian’s grin widened. "Oho! Lan Zhan is fast! But not fast enough!"

He leapt forward, weaving between the trees, following the faint rustle of fabric and the soft
patter of footsteps.

Lan Wangji was surprisingly good at this. He barely made a sound, his movement graceful and fluid, disappearing behind trees before Wei Wuxian could spot him again.

But Wei Wuxian was not the type to lose at games.He slowed his footsteps, quieting his breath as he listened.

And then—he saw it.

A flash of white robes, barely visible behind the thick bark of an ancient tree.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes gleamed. Got you.

Moving silently, he snuck around the side, pressing close to the trunk.

Then, with a sudden burst of speed—he grabbed Lan Wangji’s wrist and spun him around, pinning him against the tree.

Lan Wangji let out a small sound of surprise, his back pressed against the rough bark as Wei
Wuxian placed his hands on either side of his head, caging him in.

Wei Wuxian laughed. "Hah! I caught Lan Zhan!"
His voice was triumphant, teasing—but then—

Then, he looked down.

And his breath caught.

Lan Wangji was so close.

The soft moonlight illuminated his flawless features, his skin pale and smooth, his golden eyes wide and dazed, lips parted ever so slightly in what could only be described as a pout.

Wei Wuxian felt his heart thunder in his chest.

Oh.

Oh no.

His laughter died mid-sentence, his voice catching in his throat.

Lan Wangji’s expression remained innocent, completely oblivious to the effect he was having
on Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian swallowed. His hands, still pressed against the tree near Lan Wangji’s head, tensed.

His mind screamed at him to move—to say something, anything—but all he could do was
stare.

The warmth in his chest was unnerving, spreading far too quickly, far too deep.

What is this?
Why is he… so cute?

Wei Wuxian panicked.
He pushed himself away, stepping back quickly, laughing awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"A-Ah, well, uh, I win! Yep! Haha! Lan Zhan, you lost! Which means—you—you have to do whatever I say! But—but maybe later! Haha!"

Lan Wangji simply stared at him.

Wei Wuxian turned around immediately, pretending to inspect the grass, trying to ignore the wild pounding of his heart.

This was dangerous.

Lan Wangji was dangerous.

And not because of his sword.

Wei Wuxian took a deep breath, forcing his grin back into place. This is fine. He just needed to pretend that this moment never happened.

Yes.

That was the best plan.

"Ahahaha, well, uh…" Wei Wuxian cleared his throat, waving his hand in an exaggerated manner. "Since you lost, you’ll admit defeat. But Lan Zhan, what do you say—how about playing a song for me?"

Lan Wangji, still slightly swaying on his feet, blinked at him slowly. His brows furrowed as
though processing the request, but then, in the next moment, he simply lifted his hand.

With a soft pulse of spiritual energy, his guqin materialized in his grasp.
Wei Wuxian watched, a little stunned. Even while drunk, Lan Wangji’s control over his spiritual power was flawless.

Lan Wangji sat down on the smooth grass, adjusting the guqin on his lap with delicate hands. His fingers hovered over the strings for a brief moment before he began to play. And as soon as the first note rang through the air—
Wei Wuxian felt all the air leave his lungs.

The melody was soft, almost like a whisper against the night. It was gentle and melancholic,
flowing like a slow river, as if carrying the weight of distant memories long past.

Wei Wuxian listened, mesmerized.
His gaze softened, watching the way Lan Wangji’s hands moved across the strings, each
note played with utmost care. The tune wasn’t one he had heard before—it was neither the
Song of Clarity nor any other Lan Sect melody.

It was something… entirely different.<

A sense of nostalgia and sorrow wove through the notes, wrapping around Wei Wuxian’s heart and tugging at something deep inside him.

The song ended too soon.

As the last note faded into the cool night air, Wei Wuxian let out a slow breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

"That was… incredible," he murmured. He tilted his head. "I’ve never heard that one before, Lan Zhan. Who made it?"

Lan Wangji, still in his hazy, drunken state, blinked at him with heavy lids before answering in a soft voice.

"…My mother."

Wei Wuxian stilled.

Lan Wangji’s mother.
He had never heard Lan Wangji speak of his mother before. Not even in passing. The Lan Sect was strict about personal matters—rarely did they discuss their family beyond their
ancestors.

But now—drunk and unguarded, Lan Wangji had spoken of her so freely.

Wei Wuxian felt something in his chest tighten.
Trying to keep his tone light, he asked gently, "Your mother… What was she like?"

Lan Wangji was quiet for a long moment. His fingers hovered over the guqin strings, but he did not play again. Instead, his brows furrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"I… do not know," he finally said.

Wei Wuxian’s chest ached.

Lan Wangji turned his gaze to the ground, his expression suddenly lost—like a child searching for something he had never truly had.

"She passed away when I was three," he murmured. "Father… passed one year later."

A heavy silence settled between them.

Wei Wuxian's teasing smile faded completely.
Lan Wangji had lost both of his parents at such a young age. He had grown up without a mother’s warmth, without a father’s presence. He had only known the cold discipline of the Lan Sect and the strict presence of his uncle.

Wei Wuxian suddenly felt like an idiot. He had always thought of Lan Wangji as someone who had everything—status, discipline, a powerful family name. But what he had never thought about was how lonely Lan Wangji’s world had been.

Feeling a strange sense of guilt, Wei Wuxian sighed softly. "Lan Zhan…"

For once, he didn’t know what to say. But Lan Wangji’s sad, quiet expression stirred something inside him. A familiar kind of grief.
A familiar kind of emptiness.

Wei Wuxian took a deep breath and sat down beside him. He hesitated for a moment before
speaking.

"My parents died when I was young, too," he said lightly, but there was a fragile edge to his voice.

"I was around six . They went out for a night hunt one day, and they never came back."

Lan Wangji turned his gaze to him, eyes hazy but focused.

Wei Wuxian smiled, but it was a hollow one. "I waited for them, you know? I really thought they’d come back. But they didn’t." He chuckled softly. "At first, I thought maybe they just got lost. Maybe I could find them."

His voice dropped to a whisper

"But in the end… they were gone."

A quiet understanding passed between them.
For all their differences, their pasts were painfully similar.

Lan Wangji’s gaze softened, his lips parting slightly as if he wanted to say something.But Wei Wuxian, not wanting to let the atmosphere become too heavy, suddenly grinned and clapped his hands together.

"Enough sadness!" he declared, jumping to his feet. "Now this gege will show you what real
musical talent looks like!"

Lan Wangji blinked, slightly dazed.

Wei Wuxian brought out his flute, Chenqing, twirling it between his fingers.
"Prepare to be amazed, Hanguang-jun!" he said dramatically before lifting the flute to his lips.

A sweet, playful tune filled the air. It was a lively, cheerful melody, the complete opposite of the melancholic song Lan Wangji had played earlier.

Lan Wangji, still in his drunken haze, listened with innocent curiosity.His head tilted slightly, his golden eyes blinking slowly as if he were trying to memorize every note.

Wei Wuxian chuckled. This was rare. Seeing Lan Wangji like this. So open. So unguarded.

But as he continued to play, he suddenly felt something warm and heavy against his shoulder.

Wei Wuxian froze.

His fingers stilled over the flute as he slowly turned his head.

Lan Wangji’s head had dropped onto his shoulder.

He had fallen asleep.

Wei Wuxian blinked.

Then blinked again.

Oh.

Lan Wangji was sleeping on him.

The Second Jade of Lan, known for his unyielding strength, discipline, and dignity, was now sleeping like a kitten against Wei Wuxian’s shoulder.

Wei Wuxian didn’t know whether to laugh or panic. Carefully, he adjusted his posture so Lan Wangji wouldn’t slip. He stared at the peaceful
expression on his face, the slight parting of his lips, the way his lashes cast soft shadows over his cheeks.

He’s beautiful, Wei Wuxian thought absently.
His heart twitched.

Shaking the thought away, he let out a quiet sigh and, with a gentle movement, lifted Lan Wangji into his arms.

Lan Wangji barely stirred, his arms loosely curling against Wei Wuxian’s chest. Wei Wuxian swallowed hard.

This was fine. This was normal. He was just helping a drunk Lan Zhan.

…Right?

Ignoring the warmth blooming in his chest, he carried Lan Wangji back to his room and carefully placed him on the bed.

As he pulled the blankets over him, he muttered softly, "Goodnight, Lan Zhan."

Lan Wangji, still in sleep, murmured something back.

Wei Wuxian froze.
Did he just say—

But before he could process it, Lan Wangji turned his head, his breath evening out.

Wei Wuxian shook his head.

He was doomed.

____________________________________

The days passed in a routine filled with mischief, scoldings, and exasperated sighs.

Every morning, Wei Wuxian would irritate Lan Qiren in class, earning himself extra lectures and more punishment work. Every afternoon, he would find ways to tease Lan Wangji in the library, making it his life’s mission to break his composure. He would whisper nonsense, flick
Lan Wangji’s robes, and even hum tunes that were slightly off-key, knowing it would annoy the ever-so-disciplined Second Jade of Lan.
But today was different.

Today was the last day of his punishment.

For once, Wei Wuxian was quiet. He sat at his desk, diligently copying down his assigned work, not even sparing a glance at Lan Wangji. This unusual behavior made Lan Wangji pause multiple times. He discreetly glanced at Wei Wuxian, waiting for the usual disturbance—some ridiculous joke, an unnecessary comment, anything—but nothing came.

Why is he so quiet today?

Lan Wangji frowned slightly. He should be relieved that the troublemaker was finally behaving, but instead, he felt… unsettled.

Just as he was contemplating this strange feeling, Wei Wuxian suddenly got up and walked
toward his desk. Lan Wangji stiffened but did not move.

Wei Wuxian sat down beside him, grinning as he placed a neatly folded piece of paper in front of him.

"Here, Lan Zhan. A gift for you," Wei Wuxian said cheerfully. "Since today is my last day of punishment, I thought I'd leave you with something memorable!"

Lan Wangji hesitated for a moment before picking up the paper. He unfolded it carefully, and the moment his eyes landed on the drawing, his breath hitched.

It was a portrait.

A beautiful, intricate portrait of himself. Wei Wuxian had drawn him with delicate strokes, capturing every detail—from the gentle curve of his lips to the soft strands of his hair framing his face. And to his shock, Wei Wuxian had even added a tiny flower near his ear.

Lan Wangji’s expression softened.

For a moment, he forgot everything—the library, the punishment, even the ever-present irritation Wei Wuxian caused him. His heart skipped a beat as he traced the image with his eyes.

"It’s… beautiful," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "Thank you."

Wei Wuxian’s eyes widened slightly at the soft, almost shy tone in Lan Wangji’s voice. He had expected an annoyed scolding, a disapproving look—anything but this quiet, appreciative response.

"Hehe, no need to thank me, Lan Zhan! It’s just a small token to remember me by!" Wei Wuxian joked, feeling oddly pleased with himself.

Lan Wangji nodded, carefully folding the portrait and placing it to the side before returning to his book. But the moment he opened the pages, his body went stiff.

His eyes landed on an unfamiliar scene—an illustration of an Alpha pinning an Omega down, wrists held firmly. It was not explicit, but something about the way the Omega’s face was drawn made his chest tighten uncomfortably.

Lan Wangji had never seen such images before, but he immediately felt insulted.

Does Wei Wuxian think I’m weak?

His grip on the book tightened as a sudden wave of anger surged through him. Is this why
he gave me that portrait? To mock me, to remind me that I, an Omega, could never be as
strong as an Alpha?

His hands trembled, and before he could stop himself, he shot up from his seat, drawing Bichen in one swift movement. The blade was at Wei Wuxian’s throat in an instant.

Wei Wuxian, who had been casually leaning on the table, blinked in surprise.
"Huh? Lan Zhan? What’s—"

"You mock me." Lan Wangji’s voice was ice cold, his golden eyes burning with barely restrained fury.

Wei Wuxian’s lips twitched. "What? Mock you? What are you talking about?"

Lan Wangji shoved the book toward him. "You think I am weak?"

Wei Wuxian glanced down, confused, and the moment he saw the book, he burst into laughter.

"HAHAHA! Oh, Lan Zhan, you—hahaha! You actually opened it—hahahaha!" Wei Wuxian clutched his stomach, doubling over in laughter.

Lan Wangji’s face burned with humiliation. He’s laughing at me. He’s laughing because I—

The thought was unbearable.

Lan Wangji lunged at him, sword flashing. Wei Wuxian dodged effortlessly, still chuckling.

"Whoa, whoa! Lan Zhan, don’t be mad! I was just—ah, wait—hahaha!"

Lan Wangji attacked again, but no matter how fast he moved, Wei Wuxian avoided him with ease, still grinning.The fact that Wei Wuxian wasn’t even taking him seriously made it worse.

Lan Wangji clenched his jaw, frustration twisting inside him. His heart pounded, his vision blurred, and before he knew it—his eyes stung with unshed tears.

His breath hitched.

Wei Wuxian’s laughter stopped immediately. His teasing smile vanished as he stared in horror at the unshed tears pooling in Lan Wangji’s eyes.

"Lan Zhan…?"

Lan Wangji bit his lip and turned away, his shoulders shaking with suppressed emotions. He had never felt so humiliated in his life.

Wei Wuxian panicked.

He had no idea why, but seeing Lan Wangji cry made his chest ache unbearably.
"Hey, hey! I—I was just joking! I swear, I wasn’t mocking you!" Wei Wuxian hurriedly tried to explain, reaching out, but Lan Wangji shrugged him off.

"Lan Zhan, please don’t cry! Look, I—I was just trying to be funny! I didn’t mean to—!"

Lan Wangji turned his face away, refusing to let Wei Wuxian see his tears.

Wei Wuxian’s stomach twisted painfully.
"Fine. I’ll leave," he murmured after a moment, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "If that will make you stop crying, then I’ll just… go."

Lan Wangji flinched but did not stop him.

Wei Wuxian swallowed hard, then turned and walked away. He didn’t know why, but his chest felt strangely tight, as if he had just lost something important.

As soon as he was gone, Lan Wangji squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears to stop. It took him a long time to regain control of himself. When he finally calmed down, his eyes fell on the folded portrait sitting on the table. His fingers trembled as he picked it up.

Wei Wuxian was mocking me… wasn’t he? And yet… he couldn’t bring himself to throw the portrait away.

Lan Wangji hesitated before carefully slipping the drawing into his sleeves, pressing it close to his heart.

Even if it was meant as a joke… even if Wei Wuxian was mocking him… he still wanted to keep it.

____________________________________

Wei Wuxian walked back to his quarters, his steps unusually slow. His usual carefree bounce was absent, replaced by a strange heaviness that sat in his chest like a stone.

He still didn’t understand why.
Why had it hurt so much to see Lan Wangji cry?
Why had he felt as if someone had stabbed him when Lan Wangji refused to look at him?

Wei Wuxian sighed and rubbed his face as he stepped inside his shared quarters, where
Jiang Cheng was sitting by a table, polishing his sword.

Jiang Cheng glanced up. His sharp eyes immediately took in Wei Wuxian’s expression—the unusually quiet demeanor, the furrowed brows, and the way he looked utterly lost.

"What’s with you?" Jiang Cheng asked, narrowing his eyes. "You look like you just saw a
ghost."

Wei Wuxian opened his mouth, then hesitated. He didn’t even know how to explain it. He had made Lan Wangji cry. The thought sent a fresh wave of pain through his chest.He let out a breath and whispered, "I… I made Lan Zhan cry."

Jiang Cheng froze.

His grip on his sword slipped for a moment before he tightened it again. His face twisted into shock. "What?"

Wei Wuxian sank onto the floor, rubbing his temples. "I made him cry."

Jiang Cheng slammed his hand on the table. "You made the Ice Block of Gusu CRY? The Second Jade of Lan, the person who probably doesn’t even know what tears are?!"

Wei Wuxian winced at the sheer volume of his voice. "Shidi, can you not scream in my ears?"

Jiang Cheng ignored him. "What did you do?! What could possibly make that rigid bastard cry?"

Wei Wuxian groaned and covered his face. "It was just a prank! I—I swapped one of his books with another one, and when he saw it, he suddenly got angry and—"

Jiang Cheng frowned. "What kind of book?"

Wei Wuxian hesitated.

Jiang Cheng’s eyes narrowed. "Wei Wuxian."

"It was just some random book I found!" Wei Wuxian waved his hands. "It’s not a big deal—"

Jiang Cheng's expression darkened. "Wei Wuxian. What. Book?"

Wei Wuxian cleared his throat awkwardly. "Uh… a… a small little… you know… um, a porn book."

Silence.

The entire room seemed to freeze.

Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened so much that it was almost comical.

Then—

"YOU WHAT?!"

Wei Wuxian flinched at the sheer rage in Jiang Cheng’s voice.

"YOU GAVE A PORN BOOK TO AN OMEGA?! NOT JUST ANY OMEGA, BUT LAN WANGJI?!" Jiang Cheng screamed, looking absolutely horrified.

"HAVE YOU GONE COMPLETELY INSANE?! YOU—YOU ACTUALLY HAVE A DEATH WISH, DON’T YOU?!"

Wei Wuxian winced. "Shidi, stop shouting—"

"ARE YOU AN IDIOT?! YOU’RE AN IDIOT!" Jiang Cheng threw his sword down and buried his face in his hands. "Wei Wuxian! Do you even know what you’ve done? You didn’t just prank him! You’ve humiliated him! An Omega, from the Lan Clan of all places! Do you understand how much importance they put on dignity and discipline?!"

Wei Wuxian paled.

Jiang Cheng wasn’t done. "Not only did you probably embarrass him, but you also made him
feel weak. Do you have any idea how much strength an Omega has to maintain to be respected among Alphas? And now, you—an Alpha—have just done the worst thing possible by making him feel vulnerable! He probably thinks you’re mocking his status!"

Wei Wuxian’s stomach twisted.He hadn’t thought of it like that.

At that time, he had just been teasing Lan Wangji, expecting him to get mad and maybe
scold him—but he hadn’t considered how Lan Wangji would interpret it.And the way Lan Wangji had reacted… the way he had been so angry, so hurt…

Wei Wuxian swallowed hard.

Jiang Cheng exhaled and shook his head. "Congratulations, Wei Wuxian. You’ve officially
made sure that Lan Wangji will hate you forever. He’s never going to look at you again after this."

Wei Wuxian’s heart dropped. A strange panic rose in his chest. His fingers curled tightly against his palm.

Never… going to look at me again?

For some reason, that thought made his entire body go cold.He didn’t want that. He didn’t want Lan Wangji to hate him. He didn’t know why, but the idea of Lan Wangji ignoring him, of never speaking to him again… It hurt far more than any punishment he had ever received.

Jiang Cheng’s outburst suddenly stopped.He frowned.

Wei Wuxian’s expression…

The way his usually bright eyes looked so dark, the way he seemed genuinely panicked at the thought of Lan Wangji ignoring him—

Jiang Cheng felt something click in his mind.He folded his arms and leaned back. "You should apologize," he said after a moment.

Wei Wuxian looked up. "Huh?"

"Apologize. Tell him you didn’t mean it that way. That you’re just an idiot who doesn’t know how to think before acting." Jiang Cheng sighed.

Wei Wuxian hesitated.

His pride told him that this was just a silly misunderstanding. That Lan Wangji was probably just overreacting. That there was no need to apologize.

But his heart…
His heart was screaming at him that if he didn’t do something, Lan Wangji would never look at him the same way again.And for some inexplicable reason, that thought was unbearable.

Jiang Cheng tilted his head slightly, observing him.

"Tell me something, Wei Wuxian," he said casually. "Am I the only one who thinks you’re
getting way too attached to Lan Wangji?"

Wei Wuxian blinked.
"What?"

Jiang Cheng scoffed. "You’re always talking about him. Always teasing him. You literally spend all your time around him. And now, just the thought of him ignoring you is making you
look like your dog just died."

Wei Wuxian stiffened. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Was that true?

Was he… too attached to Lan Wangji? He thought back to the past weeks—the way he constantly sought out Lan Wangji, the way he always found excuses to talk to him, to provoke him, to just see his reactions.

The way he had drawn his portrait so carefully, paying attention to every small detail.The way he had felt actual pain when he saw Lan Wangji’s tears.

Wei Wuxian’s heart skipped a beat.

Oh.

Oh no.

Jiang Cheng smirked. "See? You’re thinking about it now, aren’t you?"

Wei Wuxian groaned and buried his face in his hands. "Shut up, Jiang Cheng."

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Just go apologize before you actually make him hate you."

Wei Wuxian hesitated for only a second longer before standing up abruptly.
"Yeah. You’re right. I’ll go now."

Jiang Cheng watched as Wei Wuxian practically ran out of the room, his expression unreadable.

After a long moment, he shook his head.

"Idiot," Jiang Cheng muttered to himself. "You’re completely gone for him, aren’t you?"

________________________________

Wei Wuxian’s heart was a tumultuous mix of guilt and anticipation as he made his way towards Lan Wangji’s quarters. He could barely calm the storm in his chest. The memory of the tears in Lan Wangji's eyes, the pain that had lanced through him when he realized the depth of his mistake, still weighed heavily on his heart. He had never meant to hurt Lan Wangji, not in a thousand years.

The light in the courtyard flickered as he passed the stone pathways, the sounds of the night creeping around him. He was almost at the entrance to the Lan Clan’s guest quarters when he heard something. The sound was soft at first, like a faint cry, but it quickly turned into a wail. He paused, straining to listen.

Without thinking, he followed the sound, and soon, he found himself near a small grove of trees behind the guesthouse. There, on the ground, lay a small lifeless body—a cat. Wei Wuxian’s heart clenched at the sight, the pitiful creature having passed away in silence. He kneeled beside it, his fingers brushing over the lifeless fur as he muttered a few words under his breath. "I’m sorry, little one."

The death of the creature stirred something inside him, and he dug a small grave right there on the spot, burying the tiny body with care. The wind whispered through the trees as Wei Wuxian finished, his gaze lingering for a moment longer on the grave he had made. It wasn’t much, but it felt right to give the little cat a peaceful resting place.

But as he began to rise, something caught his attention—a flash of movement near the base of a tree. His heart skipped a beat, and he crouched low, curiosity piqued. And there it was—a small, rust-colored kitten, its bright eyes wide with an innocent curiosity as it watched Wei Wuxian. A mischievous smile tugged at his lips.

Wei Wuxian had an idea.

_________________________________

Lan Wangji sat in his quarters, his room cloaked in the quiet stillness of the night. His mind felt fogged, still swirling with the events of the day. The portrait. The prank. The way Wei Wuxian had looked at him, apologizing with a sincerity that tugged at something deep within him. He shook his head, trying to push the thoughts away. He didn’t want to think about it—didn’t want to acknowledge the strange feelings stirring in his chest.

He reached for his book, trying to lose himself in its pages, but the words blurred as his thoughts wandered. He had no idea why his heart raced whenever Wei Wuxian was around. It was like the very presence of the man unsettled him in ways he couldn’t understand. His fingers brushed the pages absently as the night stretched on.

Suddenly, a disturbance. A sound. A shadow outside his window.

Lan Wangji’s brows furrowed in irritation. He didn’t want to be disturbed tonight. With a cold sigh, he turned his face away from the window and continued to read, the soft rustle of the pages a temporary distraction from the noise.

But the disturbance didn’t go away. Instead, it grew louder, the sounds becoming more and more ridiculous. Lan Wangji gritted his teeth. He couldn’t ignore it anymore.

He stood up and walked toward the window, pushing it open with a flick of his wrist. And there—hanging upside down, grinning like an idiot—was Wei Wuxian.

"Lan Zhan!" Wei Wuxian greeted him cheerfully, as though hanging from a tree outside was the most normal thing in the world. "Look what I’ve brought you!"

Lan Wangji turned away quickly, trying to shut out the sight of the man’s antics. "I don’t want to see you, Wei Wuxian," he said coldly, his voice firm and distant.

Wei Wuxian, however, wasn’t deterred. He swung through the window effortlessly, landing in a crouch in front of Lan Wangji, who took a step back, startled by his sudden proximity. Wei Wuxian then settled down on his knees, looking up at Lan Wangji with a playful glint in his eyes.

"Lan Zhan, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you earlier," Wei Wuxian began, his voice quieter now, tinged with genuine regret. "I just wanted to tease you a little. I never thought you would take it so badly."

Lan Wangji didn’t speak. Instead, he kept his gaze averted, his lips pressed into a thin line. He could feel the weight of the apology in Wei Wuxian’s voice, but the turmoil inside him was still too raw. He didn’t know how to respond. The words—‘hurt me’—they kept echoing in his mind. He wasn’t sure if he was hurt by the prank, or by the fact that Wei Wuxian’s actions had so easily knocked him off balance.

Wei Wuxian, noticing the slight shift in Lan Wangji’s expression, reached for his hand. Gently, he guided it toward his chest, pressing it over his heart. "I want to show you something, to prove that I’m really sorry," he said softly, his tone almost pleading.

Lan Wangji stiffened as his hand made contact with Wei Wuxian’s chest, but then—something unexpected happened. A small, rust-colored kitten popped its head out from the folds of Wei Wuxian’s robes. The little creature mewed softly, blinking up at Lan Wangji with innocent eyes.

Lan Wangji’s breath caught in his throat as he gazed down at the kitten, its small body curling up against his palm. His expression softened immediately, his features relaxing as he gently cradled the tiny creature in his arms. The kitten nuzzled closer, its fur warm against his chest, and for a moment, Lan Wangji felt an overwhelming sense of peace.

Wei Wuxian smiled at the sight, his eyes warm as he watched Lan Wangji’s reaction. "Do you like it?" he asked playfully. "I thought it would be a good way to apologize."

Lan Wangji looked up at Wei Wuxian, his heart still heavy with the emotions that had been swirling through him, but now—there was a glimmer of something else. Something lighter. The tension that had held him captive since Wei Wuxian’s prank seemed to be melting away.

"Why... did you do this?" Lan Wangji whispered, his voice quiet, unsure, as though he couldn’t quite understand his own feelings.

Wei Wuxian’s grin softened, and he nodded toward the kitten. "I just wanted to show you that I care. That I didn’t mean any harm. I didn’t think you’d take it so seriously, but now I realize how important it is for you to trust me."

Lan Wangji’s heart fluttered at the sincerity in Wei Wuxian’s words, and he felt his chest tighten with emotion. He gazed at the man kneeling before him, at the playful warmth in his eyes, and a small part of him—a part he had long ignored—yearned to reach out, to close the distance between them. But his pride and his upbringing held him back.

Wei Wuxian, noticing the slight change in Lan Wangji’s demeanor, held his gaze for a moment longer before asking, "Have I been forgiven?"

Lan Wangji hesitated, his heart still conflicted. His mind told him to stay distant, to remain stoic, but the warmth of the kitten in his arms, the sincerity in Wei Wuxian’s eyes—it was too much to ignore. He glanced up at Wei Wuxian, his voice barely above a whisper. "You should never do something like that again."

Wei Wuxian’s grin widened, his heart lightening at the words. "I promise," he said, bowing dramatically, still on his knees. "I’ll never do anything like that again."

At the sight of Wei Wuxian’s over-the-top gesture, Lan Wangji’s lips twitched, and before he could stop it, a small chuckle broke free from his throat. The sound was soft, melodic, and it warmed Wei Wuxian’s heart in a way he hadn’t expected.

The laughter, brief as it was, filled the room with a new, lighter atmosphere. Wei Wuxian stared at Lan Wangji, mesmerized by the sound of his laughter. He had never heard it before, and it struck him like a bolt of lightning. He was lost in the melody of it.

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian whispered dreamily, "Can you laugh again? I want to hear it."

Lan Wangji blinked in surprise, his face turning a soft shade of pink. He quickly turned his head away, flustered by the request. "Go away, Wei Wuxian."

But Wei Wuxian was already laughing, his heart soaring. He gave a playful bow before disappearing out the window in the same way he had come in.

Lan Wangji stood there for a moment longer, the kitten still nestled in his arms, his face flushed with the warmth of the laughter—and the realization that something between him and Wei Wuxian had shifted. He looked down at the kitten in his lap, his expression softening further. The silence that had once surrounded him no longer felt so heavy. He let out a small sigh, a quiet smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

As the night stretched on, Lan Wangji’s thoughts wandered back to the man who had just left. Despite the teasing and pranks, despite the frustration and the misunderstandings, there was something in Wei Wuxian’s sincerity—something that made Lan Wangji want to know him better.

With a glance at the kitten in his arms, Lan Wangji whispered softly, "Thank you, Wei Ying."

__________________________________

The days following the incident with the kitten felt like a turning point, though neither Wei Wuxian nor Lan Wangji could quite place their fingers on what had exactly shifted. A subtle change hung in the air whenever they were in the same room together, something that neither of them dared to acknowledge but was nonetheless undeniable. Wei Wuxian continued to be his usual teasing, annoying self, relentless in his antics. Lan Wangji, as expected, found himself exasperated by it, but somewhere deep inside, he realized that he didn’t mind as much as he once did.

Each day felt slightly different than the last, their interactions tinged with a layer of familiarity that neither of them could quite understand. It wasn’t quite friendship, but it wasn’t complete distance either. It was somewhere in between—a delicate balance of teasing, exasperation, and unspoken understanding.

Wei Wuxian would often find himself seeking out Lan Wangji, whether it was to show him a new trick he had learned or simply to annoy him just for the sheer joy of seeing Lan Wangji’s stoic face twitch with irritation. Lan Wangji, on the other hand, would sigh deeply, but there was an odd softness in his gaze, as though the moments of irritation were slowly becoming less irksome.

Wen Ruohan, on the other hand, remained as elusive as ever, unable to uncover the identity of the person responsible for the death of the illusion demon. His search had been relentless, but each lead he followed seemed to turn into a dead end.

Meanwhile, the kitten, now fully settled into Lan Wangji’s quarters, became a frequent source of entertainment for both Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji. It was an odd creature, playful and mischievous, with a keen sense of curiosity that often led it into trouble. Wei Wuxian found himself spending more time with Lan Wangji than he had before, mostly to play with the kitten and tease Lan Wangji in the process. The little kitten, however, seemed to have developed a strange attachment to Lan Wangji, often curling up beside him when he was in deep thought or focused on his training. The most amusing part, however, was how the kitten reacted whenever Wei Wuxian came too close to Lan Wangji.

Every time Wei Wuxian attempted to get too close to Lan Wangji, the kitten would spring into action, suddenly pouncing at Wei Wuxian’s arm, attempting to bite him with sharp little teeth. It was an amusing sight, one that would often have Wei Wuxian in fits of laughter as he tried to avoid the kitten’s playful nips.

“You little menace,” Wei Wuxian would tease as he danced around, trying to avoid the kitten’s attempts at biting him. “What’s your problem? Can’t you see I’m just trying to give your master some attention?”

Lan Wangji would always frown at the commotion, his usually calm demeanor momentarily disrupted by the chaotic energy of the kitten. “Wei ying , stop provoking it,” he would say, his tone stern, but his gaze never fully meeting Wei Wuxian’s. There was a faint blush on his cheeks whenever Wei Wuxian would look at him directly, and Lan Wangji had learned to avoid eye contact when the other was too close. Wei Wuxian, of course, noticed the subtle changes and found it all the more amusing.

“Aw, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian would coo, leaning in closer, “you’re embarrassed? You’re all red!"

Lan Wangji’s blush deepened, and he quickly turned away, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Don’t make fun of me.”

This would only encourage Wei Wuxian further. He would sidestep to the other side of the room, trying to get closer to Lan Wangji. But the kitten, sensing the shift in the air, would pounce at him again, its little teeth sinking into the fabric of his robes, making Wei Wuxian laugh louder.

“Look at you, Lan Zhan. You’ve got a bodyguard!” Wei Wuxian would joke, pointing at the kitten, who was now sprawled across his lap, paws raised, eyes narrowed in concentration as it kept a close watch on him. “I think it likes you more than me.”

Lan Wangji would silently glance down at the kitten, who had finally settled in his arms, purring contentedly. The sight was, admittedly, rather endearing. The kitten’s small, innocent eyes were filled with trust as it nuzzled into his chest, completely unaware of the antics happening around it. But Lan Wangji could never quite suppress the faint smile that tugged at his lips whenever the kitten curled up in his arms, and for some reason, it made him feel more at ease.

As the days passed, Wei Wuxian grew fond of the little creature, spending hours playing with it, even teaching it tricks that made Lan Wangji frown in disapproval. The kitten had learned to jump onto Wei Wuxian’s shoulders and ride along, much to Lan Wangji’s dismay.

“You’re spoiling it,” Lan Wangji would chide as he observed Wei Wuxian’s interaction with the kitten.

“I’m just teaching it how to have fun,” Wei Wuxian would counter, clearly amused by Lan Wangji’s disapproval.

Lan Wangji sighed and shook his head, but there was a flicker of something softer in his expression that he quickly masked. Despite his stern demeanor, Wei Wuxian could tell that Lan Wangji was growing fond of the little creature too. It was in the way his voice softened when he spoke to it, the way his hands delicately held the kitten whenever it mewed for attention.

__________________________________

The Cloud Recesses basked in the golden afternoon light, the warm rays spilling over the pristine white walls and shimmering rooftops. A gentle breeze stirred through the air, carrying the soft rustling of leaves and the faint scent of sandalwood incense, a fragrance often burned in the pavilions where Lan Qiren held his lectures.

The students had gathered in one of the grand learning pavilions, a structure open on all sides, supported by elegant wooden beams, each carved with the Lan Clan’s sacred scriptures. Scattered across the space were ancient statues and weathered stone tablets, each depicting pivotal moments from the life of the Lan Clan’s revered founder. Some statues showed him in deep meditation, others wielding his sword with unparalleled grace, and one even depicted a tender moment—a tale often whispered in curiosity—of the founder’s ill-fated love.

Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, and Nie Huaisang were lingering near one such stone carving, their heads bent together as they whispered conspiratorially.

“I still don’t believe it,” Wei Wuxian murmured, tilting his head as he studied the carving of the founder seated beneath a willow tree, his expression uncharacteristically serene. “The great, mighty Lan Clan founder… was in love?”

Jiang Cheng scoffed, arms crossed over his chest. “It’s just a story.”

Nie Huaisang, ever the romantic, fanned himself dramatically. “But isn’t it such a tragic romance? A love so deep, yet destined to be buried under duty and honor.” He sighed wistfully. “It makes you wonder… Do all Lan truly forsake love?”

Wei Wuxian chuckled, shooting him a knowing look. “If that’s the case, then it must be a curse. Why else would all the Lans be so beautiful? It’s like Heaven itself made them just to tempt others, only to cruelly keep them out of reach.”

Nie Huaisang giggled behind his fan. “Now that, I believe.”

Jiang Cheng groaned. “You two are ridiculous.”
Before Wei Wuxian could say another word, a single, disdainful voice cut through the air.

“Weak.”

The voice belonged to Jin Zixun, the arrogant nephew of Jin Guangshan, who stood a few steps away with his usual entourage of sycophants. The golden embroidery of his robes shimmered under the light, pristine despite the dust clinging to the pavilion’s wooden floor. His expression was smug, lips curled into a mocking smirk as he gestured lazily, as if discussing something utterly trivial.

“Omegas are nothing but burdens,” he continued, the disdain in his voice thick and undeniable. “They can’t even wield a sword properly. Tell me, what’s the use of them pretending to be cultivators? It’s just laughable.”

The sycophants surrounding him snickered, nodding along. A few of them shot glances at the nearby disciples, as if daring them to challenge his words.

Wei Wuxian’s grip on his sleeve tightened. His fingers curled into the fabric, the tension in his shoulders rising.

He had always known that Jin Zixun was arrogant, pompous, and utterly self-absorbed. But there was something in his voice today—something particularly venomous. It wasn’t just thoughtless prejudice. It was deliberate cruelty.

Jin Zixun wasn’t done. His smirk widened, and he leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice just enough to make it seem conspiratorial, yet still loud enough for those nearby to hear.

“And speaking of Omegas,” he drawled, “what about that famous Second Jade of Lan?”

The moment Lan Wangji’s name left Jin Zixun’s mouth, Wei Wuxian felt something shift inside him.

A deep unease settled in his stomach.

He didn’t know what Jin Zixun was about to say, but he knew it wouldn’t be good.

Jin Zixun’s tone turned sharper, mocking. “What a waste, don’t you think? A talent like his… and yet, in the end, he’s just an Omega. No matter how skilled he is, no matter how highly the Lan Clan praises him, he’ll end up just like the rest—bowing his head, submitting to someone stronger.”

Laughter rippled through the group.

Wei Wuxian’s blood ran cold.

Jin Zixun’s words weren’t just insulting—they were meant to humiliate. To reduce Lan Wangji’s entire existence—his talent, his discipline, his hard work—into nothing more than his secondary gender.

Wei Wuxian could handle insults directed at himself. But Lan Wangji—Lan Wangji, who had always carried himself with grace, who had worked harder than anyone else, who had never once lowered his head to anyone—

To hear someone like Jin Zixun belittle him?

Wei Wuxian’s fingers twitched at his side.

The words struck like a blade.

The world around Wei Wuxian blurred, his vision tunneling on Jin Zixun’s smug face.

He wasn’t even finished.

“Really, have you seen him?” Jin Zixun scoffed, nudging one of his friends. “It’s almost funny, how he carries himself with such pride. What’s the point? No matter how much he tries to act like he’s above everyone else, it won’t change what he is.”

Another sneering voice chimed in. “It’s a shame, isn’t it? Imagine a beauty like that being wasted on a sword instead of something more… suitable.”

“More like someone suitable,” another laughed.

Jin Zixun grinned. “I wonder how long before someone decides to claim him properly. I mean, isn’t it a bit ridiculous? A noble, refined Omega like him, pretending that he can stay untouched forever? He’s practically begging for a real Alpha to put him in his place.”
And if you ask me,” Jin Zixun continued, his eyes gleaming with something vile, “someone with that kind of face… would be better off warming a bed than wasting time with a sword.”
Wei Wuxian felt something inside him snap.

His body moved before his mind could catch up.

The sharp crack of impact split through the air.

Jin Zixun staggered back, clutching his face.

Gasps erupted from the surrounding cultivators. A few disciples instinctively took a step back, their eyes darting between Wei Wuxian and the stunned Jin Zixun.

For a brief moment, there was silence.

Jin Zixun’s stunned expression quickly twisted into fury. He straightened, his fingers pressing against the bruise already forming on his cheek.

“

“
Wei Wuxian stood with his palm still slightly raised, his fingers tingling from the impact. His chest heaved with barely contained fury, and his normally bright, mischievous eyes were sharp with cold rage.

“You—” Jin Zixun’s voice was a strangled gasp, his disbelief evident. His usually arrogant demeanor cracked for the first time.

Wei Wuxian didn’t give him time to recover.

“You sure talk a lot for someone with so little brain,” he said, his voice calm but edged with venom. “Tell me, Jin Zixun, does your mouth ever say anything worth listening to, or do you just let whatever garbage is in your head spill out?”

Gasps rippled through the crowd. A few disciples—those who had been watching from the sidelines—exchanged nervous glances. The air between Wei Wuxian and Jin Zixun crackled with tension.

Jin Zixun, recovering from his initial shock, clenched his jaw. His eyes burned with fury as he straightened. “You dare—”

“I dare?” Wei Wuxian let out a laugh—sharp, cutting. “Oh, Jin Zixun, I always dare when it comes to people like you.”

Jin Zixun’s fists curled tightly at his sides. “Do you have any idea who you just struck?”

“I do,” Wei Wuxian said with a smirk. “A fool.”

More gasps. Someone at the back stifled a laugh.

Jin Zixun’s face darkened further.

“You insolent—”

Wei Wuxian stepped forward, closing the distance between them with deliberate ease. His presence, though relaxed, carried an undeniable weight—a silent promise that he wouldn’t back down.

“You were saying something about Omegas?” Wei Wuxian’s voice was deceptively light, his eyes glinting with something dangerous. “About how they’re ‘burdens’? About how they ‘can’t wield a sword properly’? And then… oh, what was that last part again?” He tilted his head. “Ah, right. Wasting talent.”

Jin Zixun’s expression twisted, but Wei Wuxian wasn’t done.

“Strange,” he mused. “Because if that were really the case, then why is Lan Wangji—an Omega—stronger than you?”

The words landed like a slap harder than the first.

Jin Zixun flinched.

Wei Wuxian let his smirk widen. “If Omegas are such burdens, then why is it that you couldn’t even dream of matching his swordsmanship? Why is it that, despite all your posturing, you still aren’t fit to challenge him?”

A murmur ran through the crowd. Some of the disciples shifted uncomfortably, as if realizing the truth behind Wei Wuxian’s words.

Jin Zixun’s face turned an ugly shade of red.

“You—”

“What’s wrong?” Wei Wuxian interrupted, feigning innocence. “Did I say something inaccurate?”

Jin Zixun’s breathing turned uneven, his pride visibly cracking under the scrutiny. His fingers twitched—itching, no doubt, to grab his sword—but he hesitated. Because as much as he wanted to retaliate, he knew that Wei Wuxian was right.

Lan Wangji wasn’t just strong. He was exceptional.

And no matter how much Jin Zixun sneered, no matter how much he tried to degrade him with words, the truth remained: Lan Wangji could defeat him.

Effortlessly.

Wei Wuxian took a slow step closer, lowering his voice just enough that only Jin Zixun could hear.

“You made a mistake,” he said, his tone losing its earlier playfulness. “You thought you could throw his name around and make a joke out of him. But you don’t touch Lan Wangji’s name—not in that way. Not in my presence.”

Jin Zixun’s jaw tightened. He was trembling now, whether from rage or humiliation, it was hard to tell.

Wei Wuxian smiled, sharp and taunting. “So tell me—what was it you were saying earlier? That he should be ‘warming a bed’?” His voice turned icy. “I’d like to see you try to make him.”

Jin Zixun gaped at him. “You—”

Before he could finish, Wei Wuxian stepped forward, his voice deadly quiet.

“Say that again.”

Jin Zixun hesitated, his bravado faltering in the face of the sheer fury radiating off Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian’s lips curled into a sharp, humorless smile. “Go on. Say one more word about Lan zhan.”

Jin Zixun’s friends shifted nervously, but Jin Zixun, unwilling to back down, straightened. He sneered. “What’s it to you? Don’t tell me you want to be the one keeping his bed warm?”

The second punch came even faster.

This time, Jin Zixun fell.

Gasps erupted around the pavilion. Students scrambled back, watching in stunned disbelief as the fight escalated.

Jin Zixun, now on the ground, wiped his bleeding lip with the back of his hand, his eyes darkening with rage. “You bastard—”

He lunged.

Wei Wuxian met him head-on.

They collided, fists swinging, feet shuffling across the stone floor. Jin Zixun was not unskilled—he had trained, as all cultivators had—but his arrogance had dulled his reflexes. Wei Wuxian, on the other hand, fought with unrestrained fury, his blows landing fast and hard, fueled by pure, unfiltered rage.

Jin Zixun managed to get a hit in, his fist slamming into Wei Wuxian’s jaw, but it only served to infuriate him further.

Wei Wuxian tackled him to the ground, pinning him down. “Say that again—” he snarled.

Jiang Cheng cursed, moving forward. “Dammit, Wei Wuxian—”

“Enough!”

The command rang out like a thunderclap.

Lan Qiren’s voice cut through the chaos, silencing the pavilion instantly.

The students stiffened, eyes darting between their furious teacher and the disheveled, still-fighting figures of Wei Wuxian and Jin Zixun.

Wei Wuxian froze, his grip still tight on Jin Zixun’s robes, his breathing heavy. Slowly, he lifted his head, meeting the stormy gaze of Lan Qiren.

The elder’s expression was a mask of controlled fury. His piercing eyes swept over the scene—the torn robes, the bruised faces, the blood staining the stone floor. His grip tightened around the bamboo rod in his hand.

“Explain,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Wei Wuxian clenched his jaw.

Jin Zixun was the first to speak, voice laced with fury. “This lunatic attacked me unprovoked!”

Wei Wuxian scoffed. “Unprovoked? Oh, please.”

Jin Zixun’s eyes flashed. “He—”

“Enough,” Lan Qiren snapped. He turned his sharp gaze on Wei Wuxian. “Fighting within the Cloud Recesses is strictly forbidden. You will face punishment.”

Wei Wuxian’s shoulders stiffened.

Jin Zixun smirked.

Lan Qiren’s gaze flickered to him. “And you as well, Jin Zixun.”

The smirk disappeared. “What? But—”

“No excuses,” Lan Qiren cut him off. “Both of you will kneel outside the pavilion until sundown. If I hear even a whisper of defiance, your punishment will be doubled.”

Wei Wuxian exhaled through his nose, but he didn’t argue. He stepped back, letting go of Jin Zixun, who glared at him but said nothing.

The tension in the pavilion remained thick, but no one dared to speak as Lan Qiren turned and strode away, his robes billowing behind him.

Wei Wuxian sighed.

As he lowered himself to kneel on the hard stone, ignoring the ache in his knuckles, he let out a dry chuckle.

Worth it.

---

The sun had begun its slow descent beyond the towering peaks surrounding the Cloud Recesses, casting elongated shadows across the pristine white stone paths. A solemn stillness had settled over the grand courtyard in front of the main study hall, where two figures knelt in quiet contrast against the otherwise serene surroundings.

Wei Wuxian and Jin Zixun, both disheveled and still bearing the marks of their earlier scuffle, had been left under the weight of Lan Qiren’s strict discipline. Their punishment was clear—kneeling in repentance until sundown. Both were made to kneel in different places to prevent any mishappenings from occurring.

Wei Wuxian, remained oddly still.

Unlike Jin Zixun, he had accepted the punishment without complaint, resting his hands loosely on his thighs as he gazed at the stone floor before him. The afternoon heat pressed down on him, but he made no move to wipe the sweat beading at his temple. His dark eyes, which usually held a glint of mischief, were unreadable.

He wasn’t regretful. No, not in the least.

If anything, he would do it again.

If he could punch Jin Zixun twice, he would.

A sharp exhale left his lips.

Fighting was forbidden in the Cloud Recesses, but what else could he have done? Let that bastard run his mouth, speaking of Lan Wangji in such a disgusting way? No. If he had to kneel for defending Lan Wangji’s honor, then so be it.

He had done it because it was right.

---

Meanwhile, Lan Wangji had been in the library, a place he frequently found solace in. Rows upon rows of scrolls and ancient texts surrounded him, their familiar scent filling the air. Yet, despite the tranquility of the space, he couldn’t concentrate.

It wasn’t until he overheard a hushed conversation between two Lan disciples that his mind truly snapped back into focus.

“…I heard Wei wuxian got into a fight.”

“With Jin Zixun?”

“Yes, and now he’s kneeling in punishment.”

Lan Wangji turned his head ever so slightly, his fingers still resting on the edge of an open scroll.

---
It was these hushed murmurs that found their way to Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji’s hand stilled over the page. His eyes, usually steady and unshaken, flickered with something unreadable.

Jin Zixun.

His name alone was enough to conjure an unpleasant sense of foreboding.

Another voice, softer but laced with intrigue, added, "Apparently… he did it because Jin Zixun insulted lan wangji."

Lan Wangji’s breath halted.

Him?

His heartbeat, always calm and measured, skipped ever so slightly.

He closed the manuscript without another word, rising with a grace that betrayed the unease now threading through his veins. He paid no heed to the curious glances that followed him as he stepped out of the pavilion, his white robes billowing slightly in the gentle afternoon breeze.

Without hesitation, his feet carried him toward the main courtyard, where punishments were carried out.

A strange, unfamiliar tightness coiled in his chest.

---

As he neared, the quiet murmur of disciples gradually faded, replaced by an almost eerie stillness. The courtyard stretched wide before him, its white stone tiles gleaming under the sunlight.

At the center, a lone figure knelt.

Wei Wuxian.

Lan Wangji came to an abrupt halt, instinctively stepping behind the white pillar at the edge of the courtyard. His sharp eyes took in the scene before him.

Wei Wuxian’s usual carefree energy was absent.

He knelt with his back straight, his head slightly bowed. His dark robes, in sharp contrast to the immaculate brightness of the courtyard, bore signs of disturbance—the slight rumpling of fabric, a faint trace of dust clinging to his sleeves.

Lan Wangji’s gaze dropped to his hands, which rested against his thighs, fingers curled slightly, as though resisting the urge to fidget. A few strands of his dark hair had slipped from his topknot, falling loosely around his face.

From the corner of his vision, Lan Wangji noted the way Wei Wuxian’s left sleeve was slightly torn at the edge, revealing the barest hint of reddened skin underneath. A wound, perhaps.

Something cold and sharp settled in Lan Wangji’s chest.

He had seen Wei Wuxian reckless and bruised before, always smiling through his own injuries as if they were of no consequence. But here, in the quiet stillness of the courtyard, with no audience to play the fool for—

He looked…

Tired.

Lan Wangji tightened his grip against the pillar.

The courtyard was empty save for the kneeling figure. Even the ever-present Lan disciples had seemingly withdrawn, leaving Wei Wuxian alone beneath the vast expanse of the sky.

From his position, Lan Wangji could not see his expression.

Yet, the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers pressed just a little too hard against his own knees—these small details painted a picture clearer than any words could.

He is hurt.

He is alone.

And for the first time, Lan Wangji did not know what to do.

A flicker of something sharp passed through Lan Wangji’s chest.

Is he hurting?

More than that, was he… sad?

The very thought unsettled him.

He had never seen Wei Wuxian sad before. Not truly. Wei Wuxian was reckless, mischievous, infuriating, but his spirit always burned bright, untamed. To see that light dimmed, even slightly, felt—

Lan Wangji clenched his fingers, forcing the feeling down.

He hesitated only a moment longer before speaking.

“Wei Ying.”

His voice was quiet but firm, cutting through the stillness.

Wei Wuxian’s head snapped up at the sound of his name, dark eyes wide in surprise. For a fleeting second, something unreadable flickered across his expression—something that Lan Wangji was almost certain he had not imagined.

But then, just as quickly, it was gone.

Wei Wuxian’s face split into a wide, carefree grin, his entire demeanor shifting as if a switch had been flipped.

“Ah, Lan Zhan! What are you doing here? Did you come all this way just to see me?” He tilted his head playfully. “You must have been worried sick, huh?”

Lan Wangji did not respond. His gaze remained steady, unwavering.

Wei Wuxian, completely unbothered by the lack of reaction, let out a dramatic sigh.

“Well, since you’re here,” he said cheerfully, patting the ground beside him, “why don’t you come over? I can teach you something very important.”

Lan Wangji blinked, caught off guard.

“…What?”

Wei Wuxian grinned and gestured downward.

“Playing with ants.”

Lan Wangji stared at him, utterly baffled.

Wei Wuxian, kneeling as punishment, was not sulking. Not complaining. Not brooding in his discomfort.

No—he was playing with ants.

His fingers traced small shapes in the dirt, a tiny trail of ants following the patterns as if obediently responding to his whims. He watched them with childlike amusement, his expression alight with fascination.

It was absurd.

It was also—

So very Wei Ying.

Lan Wangji opened his mouth, then closed it again.

He should have turned away. He should have reminded Wei Wuxian that this was not appropriate behavior during punishment. He should have—

But instead—

He stepped forward.

And then, to Wei Wuxian’s absolute shock—

He knelt.

---

Wei Wuxian felt his breath catch in his throat.

He had not actually expected Lan Wangji to listen to him.

He had definitely not expected him to kneel.

Yet, here he was.

Lan Wangji lowered himself gracefully beside him, his white robes spilling onto the ground, pristine as ever. His movements were measured, deliberate, as if he had no hesitation at all in joining Wei Wuxian in such a ridiculous endeavor.

For a moment, Wei Wuxian could only gape at him.

Then, realization struck.

He’s kneeling on the stone floor.

Wei Wuxian immediately shook off his outer robe, tossing it down in a single motion.

“Here! Sit on this,” he said hurriedly, smoothing the fabric against the ground.

Lan Wangji stilled, his gaze lifting to Wei Wuxian’s face.

His expression was unreadable.

Wei Wuxian hesitated, suddenly unsure.

“…What? Are you gonna scold me for disrespecting my robes?” He laughed lightly, scratching the back of his neck. “I mean, you’re already breaking your precious rules by kneeling here with me. Might as well go all the way, right?”

Lan Wangji did not answer.

He simply continued looking at Wei Wuxian with that same unreadable expression, as if searching for something.

The silence stretched.

Wei Wuxian felt his face heat.

“Aiya, Lan Zhan, why are you staring at me like that?” he teased, trying to mask his own flustered state. He smirked, raising a brow. “Am I too handsome? Is that why you can’t take your eyes off me?”

Still, Lan Wangji said nothing.

Then—

He ignored Wei Wuxian completely.

Instead, he reached into his sleeve, withdrawing something small and carefully wrapped.

Wei Wuxian blinked. “What’s that?”

Lan Wangji did not answer.

With quiet precision, he unwrapped a small bundle of fresh medicinal herbs, their sharp, earthy scent filling the air. He crushed them slightly between his fingers, then, without warning, reached forward and pressed them gently against Wei Wuxian’s knee.

Wei Wuxian flinched.

The cool touch of the herbs sent a sharp sting through his skin, and he let out a startled hiss.

“Ah—! Lan Zhan! What are you—”

Lan Wangji’s hand was steady. His grip firm, but not harsh.

“Hold still,” he said simply.

Wei Wuxian frowned, still wincing. “You could’ve warned me first! That hurts, you know?”

Lan Wangji’s gaze remained impassive.

“It is good that it hurts.”

Wei Wuxian’s mouth fell open. “What kind of response is that?!”

Lan Wangji’s expression did not change.

“It will prevent you from doing something like this again.”

Wei Wuxian pouted dramatically. “That’s so cruel, Lan Zhan! You should be comforting me, not scolding me!”

Lan Wangji did not respond.

His hands moved with practiced ease, applying the herbs with gentle pressure, ensuring they covered the scrape fully. His touch was careful—almost too careful. As if he was afraid of hurting Wei Wuxian any more than necessary.

Wei Wuxian’s breath hitched slightly.

For all his cold words, Lan Wangji was being incredibly tender.

Wei Wuxian watched him in silence, the teasing words dying on his lips.

He had fought for Lan Wangji earlier without a second thought. He had spoken up because he wanted to—because it felt right.

But now, seeing the way Lan Wangji was tending to his wound, with such silent but deliberate care—

Wei Wuxian felt something warm spread through his chest.

He swallowed.

“Lan Zhan,” he said softly, his voice lacking its usual teasing edge.

Lan Wangji glanced at him briefly before returning to his task.

Wei Wuxian grinned.

“Next time,” he murmured, “if I get hurt again, will you take care of me like this too?”

Lan Wangji paused.

His fingers hesitated for just a fraction of a second—so briefly that if Wei Wuxian had blinked, he would have missed it.

Then, without a word, Lan Wangji pulled back, his task complete.

He met Wei Wuxian’s gaze.

“…You should not get hurt again,” he said simply.

Wei Wuxian chuckled. “No promises.”

Lan Wangji sighed.

But this time, his gaze lingered just a little longer.

Wei Wuxian tilted his head slightly. “What is it? You’ve been staring at me a lot today, Lan Zhan. Are you finally realizing how handsome I am?”

Lan Wangji exhaled through his nose—a sound that was not quite a sigh but certainly close to one. He lowered his gaze briefly, then looked at Wei Wuxian again. This time, his eyes were steadier, deeper—full of unspoken meaning.

And then—

“…Thank you.”

The words were spoken quietly, almost as if Lan Wangji wasn’t used to saying them.

Wei Wuxian blinked.

For a second, he wasn’t sure he had heard correctly.

“Huh?” Wei Wuxian let out a short laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “What are you thanking me for? I don’t remember giving you anything. Or—wait! Is it for the honor of witnessing my unparalleled talent at playing with ants? Hahaha, Lan Zhan, I didn’t know you were so easily impressed—”

“For fighting for my honor.”

Wei Wuxian’s breath caught.

Lan Wangji’s voice was calm, unwavering. His golden eyes held Wei Wuxian’s gaze firmly, as if trying to convey something that words alone could not.

“For respecting me,” he continued. “For speaking out against injustice.”

Wei Wuxian’s teasing smile faltered.

A sudden wave of heat rushed to his face.

He hadn’t expected Lan Wangji to actually thank him for that.

After all, he hadn’t done anything special.

He had spoken up because he had wanted to. Because watching others ridicule Lan Wangji over something so ridiculous had been unbearable. Because seeing someone as disciplined, as upright as Lan Wangji be treated like that had been wrong.

And yet—

Now, Lan Wangji was looking at him with that quiet sincerity, his gratitude written plainly across his face.

Wei Wuxian panicked.

“Oi, oi, Lan Zhan, don’t thank me for that!” He waved his hands frantically, as if trying to erase the moment entirely. “I really didn’t do anything worth thanking me for! It was just basic decency. Everyone should raise their voice against such nonsense, not just me.”

Lan Wangji did not waver.

“But they did not,” he said simply.

Wei Wuxian shut his mouth.

He could feel his ears burning. His fingers twitched as if resisting the urge to tug at his collar—anything to dispel the unfamiliar warmth creeping up his neck.

Lan Wangji was still looking at him.

Those eyes. Those calm, unwavering eyes.

Wei Wuxian had never found it difficult to meet someone’s gaze before, but right now—

Right now, he needed to escape this situation.

He cleared his throat loudly.

“Well!” He clapped his hands together, forcing an exaggerated grin onto his face. “Since you’re already kneeling here with me, how about I show you something really amazing?”

Lan Wangji blinked, momentarily thrown off by the abrupt shift in topic.

Wei Wuxian grinned wider.

“I’m going to show you magic.”

Lan Wangji frowned slightly. “Magic?”

“Yes!” Wei Wuxian scooted forward eagerly, pointing at the ground where the ants had been scurrying. “See these little guys? If you dig just right, you can make them think the heavens themselves have opened up. They’ll start running around like crazy. It’s a grand spectacle, truly.”

Without waiting for Lan Wangji’s response, Wei Wuxian began carefully disturbing the dirt around the ant holes, exaggerating his movements as if he were performing some great, mystical ritual.

Lan Wangji was silent.

Wei Wuxian stole a quick glance at him, hoping the absurdity of the situation would finally break that unreadable expression of his.

But instead—

Lan Wangji looked… lost.

Not confused—Lan Wangji rarely looked confused. But there was a hesitation in his posture, a slight stiffness in his shoulders, as if he was trying to process something unfamiliar.

Wei Wuxian, determined to fluster him, leaned in dramatically.

“Come on, Lan Zhan! You can’t just sit there looking all mysterious and composed. Join me! Witness the magic of the ant kingdom!”

Lan Wangji did not respond.

His eyes flickered—just for a second.

And then—

Without a word, he stood up.

Wei Wuxian blinked in surprise. “Eh? Where are you going?”

Lan Wangji turned sharply, his robes fluttering slightly as he walked away.

Wei Wuxian called after him. “Oi! Lan Zhan! Wait! Where are you running off to? You haven’t even seen the magic yet—”

But Lan Wangji did not stop.

If anything, his steps grew faster.

Wei Wuxian stared after him, dumbfounded.

And then—

A slow, mischievous grin spread across his face.

“Ahhh… So that’s how it is,” he murmured to himself, watching as Lan Wangji’s retreating figure disappeared around a corner. “Lan Zhan, are you shy?”

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head in amusement.

Despite his usual stoic nature, despite his endless composure—Lan Wangji had run away.

Wei Wuxian hummed thoughtfully, resting his chin on his hand.

Well, well.

This was a new discovery.

And he absolutely planned to make use of it.

With that thought, Wei Wuxian stretched out his arms lazily and leaned back, a satisfied smirk still playing on his lips.

Lan Wangji might have escaped this time.

But next time—

Wei Wuxian was going to make sure he flustered him even more.

---

Later That Night

Long after the sun had set, when the courtyard was empty and silence blanketed the Cloud Recesses, Lan Wangji found himself standing at the same spot where Wei Wuxian had been kneeling earlier.

His gaze flickered to the stone ground, where the remnants of sugar crumbs still remained.

Without thinking, he crouched down.

A single ant scurried by, drawn to the leftover sweetness.

Lan Wangji hesitated. Then, remembering what Wei Wuxian had demonstrated, he carefully moved some of the crumbs.

Slowly, as more ants arrived, they began forming a shape.

Lan Wangji’s breath hitched.

The pattern they followed—meticulously designed—wasn’t just a random shape.

It was his face.

Wei Wuxian had done it on purpose.

A wave of heat crept up Lan Wangji’s neck. He stood abruptly, his jaw tightening as he stared at the ground in quiet mortification.

He could hear Wei Wuxian’s voice in his head, teasing, laughing.

Lan Wangji exhaled sharply.

Ridiculous.

Yet, despite himself, he lingered a moment longer before turning away.

And if the next morning, he caught himself glancing at Wei Wuxian more often than usual—well, that was no one’s business but his own.

-------------------------------

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian walked leisurely through the sect grounds, his hands folded behind his head as he chatted with Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang. The afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the stone pathways, and the air was filled with the scent of blooming plum blossoms. It was one of those rare moments of peace, where Wei Wuxian didn’t have to worry about schemes, battles, or demons.

Jiang Cheng, as usual, wore his usual scowl, though it had softened slightly as he listened to Wei Wuxian’s exaggerated stories about how he had nearly tamed the little kitten in Lan Wangji’s room. Nie Huaisang, ever the eager gossip, laughed along, fanning himself dramatically.

“You really should be careful, Wei-xiong,” Nie Huaisang chuckled. “If you keep teasing Hanguang-jun, one day he might just—”

He stopped abruptly as his eyes flickered ahead. Jiang Cheng also slowed his steps, making Wei Wuxian glance up to see what had caught their attention.

His breath hitched.

Lan Wangji was walking toward them, his posture as elegant and poised as ever. But something was different. There was a softness in his face that wasn’t usually there. His lips were curved into a faint but unmistakable smile, a rare expression that was only seen in the most intimate of moments.

Wei Wuxian felt a teasing remark already forming in his mouth—something about how rare it was to see Lan Wangji smile so openly, about how it made him look almost like a lovestruck maiden.

But before the words could leave his lips, Lan Wangji walked right past him.

Wei Wuxian blinked, stunned into silence.

Not only had Lan Wangji not reacted to him, but he hadn’t even noticed him. His golden eyes, usually so sharp and perceptive, hadn’t even flickered in Wei Wuxian’s direction.

Wei Wuxian turned quickly, his stomach twisting with something unfamiliar.

Lan Wangji had stopped a few steps away, his gaze warm and composed as he greeted his older brother, Lan Xichen. And next to Lan Xichen stood an unfamiliar man—an Alpha with long, golden robes embroidered with the Jin clan insignia. The newcomer was tall, with striking features and a noble air about him, his expression one of quiet confidence.

The Alpha smiled as Lan Wangji approached, his eyes softening with unmistakable affection.

“Lan Wangji,” the man greeted, his tone carrying a certain warmth that made Wei Wuxian’s frown deepen.

“Jin Jixuan,” Lan Wangji replied with a small nod, his voice quieter than usual, almost hesitant.

Wei Wuxian felt his fingers twitch. Who the hell was this?

Before he could demand an answer, Nie Huaisang, ever the gossip, leaned toward him and whispered, “Ah, that’s Jin Jixuan. Lan Wangji’s only childhood friend.”

Wei Wuxian’s head snapped toward him. “What?”

Nie Huaisang blinked at his reaction, then continued, oblivious to Wei Wuxian’s rising irritation. “Mm-hmm. Jin-zongzhu’s heir, though he rarely flaunts it. He used to visit the Cloud Recesses often when he was younger, back when Lan Wangji was still a child. Apparently, they were very close—practically inseparable.”

Wei Wuxian narrowed his eyes as he watched the exchange between Lan Wangji and Jin Jixuan.

Jin Jixuan reached out and gently brushed a stray strand of hair from Lan Wangji’s face, an act so casual and natural that it made Wei Wuxian’s chest tighten with something sharp and unfamiliar.

Lan Wangji didn’t pull away.

Wei Wuxian clenched his fists.

“That so?” He forced out a laugh, though it sounded a little too sharp, even to his own ears. “Close friends, huh?”

Nie Huaisang nodded. “Yes. He was the only one outside the Lan clan who was allowed to spend time with Lan Wangji without restriction. Even Lan Qiren approved of him.”

Wei Wuxian scoffed. “Lan Qiren approved? That old man barely approves of anyone.”

Nie Huaisang shrugged, fanning himself. “Well, Jin Jixuan is the heir to Lan Wangji’s sworn brother’s sect. And he’s… well, you know. Golden boy, good at everything, well-mannered, rich—”

Wei Wuxian barely heard the rest of the sentence. His eyes were fixed on the scene in front of him.

Lan Wangji and Jin Jixuan were speaking in hushed voices, their body language relaxed and familiar in a way that made Wei Wuxian’s stomach churn.

He didn’t like this.

He didn’t know why he didn’t like this.

But he didn’t.

Jin Jixuan said something that made Lan Wangji exhale softly—almost a laugh. It was small, nearly imperceptible, but it was there.

Wei Wuxian felt something snap inside him.

He marched forward, ignoring the look of warning Jiang Cheng shot him.

“Ah, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian called out with a bright, exaggerated smile, placing himself directly between Lan Wangji and Jin Jixuan. “What a surprise! You didn’t see me just now?”

Lan Wangji blinked, startled, as if just now realizing Wei Wuxian’s presence. “…Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian crossed his arms, his expression playful but sharp. “I was right in front of you, but you walked right past me! Were you too busy daydreaming to notice?”

Lan Wangji opened his mouth, but before he could respond, Jin Jixuan spoke.

“It was my fault, I’m afraid,” the Jin heir said smoothly, offering a polite smile. “I distracted him.”

Wei Wuxian’s jaw twitched.

Lan Wangji turned toward Jin Jixuan and gave him a small nod. “Mn.”

Wei Wuxian’s forced smile nearly cracked. “Oh? And what exactly were you two talking about that was so fascinating?”

Jin Jixuan chuckled, tilting his head slightly. “Just reminiscing about old times. It’s been years since Wangji and I last met. We used to spend a lot of time together when we were children.”

There it was again—that name.

Wangji.

Not ‘Lan Wangji,’ not ‘Second Young Master Lan.’ Just Wangji.

Wei Wuxian felt an irrational flare of irritation rise in his chest. No one called Lan Wangji by his personal name so casually. No one but Lan Xichen.

And now this Jin Jixuan.
Wei Wuxian’s gaze flicked back to Lan Wangji, expecting him to correct it. Expecting him to say, It’s Lan Wangji. Expecting something.

But Lan Wangji remained silent.

He did not correct Jin Jixuan. He did not look uncomfortable.

He just stood there, composed as always.

Wei Wuxian’s chest tightened.

Nie Huaisang, sensing the growing tension, let out an awkward laugh. “Ahaha, well, it’s nice to see old friends reunite, isn’t it?”

Wei Wuxian barely heard him.

His mind was spinning with a thousand thoughts, a thousand emotions, none of which he could fully grasp.

Lan Zhan and I are close, right? We’re friends, right? So why… why does this feel so different? Why does it bother me so much?

Jin Jixuan turned back to Lan Wangji, his expression warm. “It’s good to see you again, Wangji.”

Wei Wuxian felt something dark coil in his chest.

He forced out a laugh. “Wow, you two must have been really close. I never imagined Lan Zhan having a childhood friend. He’s always been so serious.”

Jin Jixuan smiled. “Yes, but he wasn’t always like that. When he was younger, he was much softer. More…” He trailed off, glancing at Lan Wangji fondly. “More open.”

Wei Wuxian clenched his jaw.

. His eyes were locked onto Lan Wangji, who still hadn’t said a word.

“You two must have some good stories,” Wei Wuxian said, his voice deliberately light. “Why don’t you share one? I’d love to hear about little Lan Zhan.”

Lan Wangji shot him a warning look, but Jin Jixuan chuckled. “Well, there was one time when Wangji and I—”

Wei Wuxian didn’t hear the rest.

All he could think about was the way Jin Jixuan said Wangji so easily.

And how Lan Wangji let him.

Something inside him twisted—hot, burning, and unfamiliar.

For the first time, Wei Wuxian found himself hating a smile that wasn’t meant for him.

----------------------------------

Wei Wuxian had never been one to get easily irritated. He prided himself on his ability to let things slide, to laugh off awkward situations and turn any misfortune into an opportunity for amusement. But this—this was different.

Jin Jixuan was still here. Still. Here.

And worse, Lan Wangji didn’t seem to mind.

It had been three days since Jin Jixuan’s arrival, and in those three days, Lan Wangji had spent more time with him than he had with Wei Wuxian. Every time Wei Wuxian looked for Lan Wangji—whether it was in the training grounds, the library, or even near the secluded garden where he used to practice his guqin—Jin Jixuan was always there.

And it bothered him.

A lot.

It wasn’t that he didn’t understand friendship. He had friends! He had Jiang Cheng, Nie Huaisang, Wen Ning, even some of the disciples from the other sects who tolerated his antics. But Lan Wangji? Lan Wangji wasn’t like that with anyone.

Lan Wangji was distant. Reserved. He kept people at arm’s length, his cold, stoic presence a shield that very few had ever managed to break through.

But Jin Jixuan?

Jin Jixuan spoke to Lan Wangji so casually, so comfortably—and Lan Wangji let him.

That was the part that frustrated Wei Wuxian the most.

So he did what he did best.

He interfered.

---

Interruptions & Subtle Claims

It started small.

Whenever he saw Jin Jixuan and Lan Wangji talking, he would conveniently pass by at just the right moment, calling out loudly, “Lan Zhan! There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

The first time he did it, Lan Wangji blinked at him in mild confusion before saying, “You did not look.”

Wei Wuxian grinned, ignoring Jin Jixuan’s amused glance. “Well, I was about to! But since I found you already, let’s go.”

Lan Wangji tilted his head slightly. “Where?”

Wei Wuxian waved his hand dramatically. “Anywhere but here! You don’t want to sit around all day talking about boring old stuff, do you?”

Lan Wangji frowned. “It is not boring.”

Jin Jixuan chuckled. “Wei-gongzi, are you trying to steal Wangji away from me?”

Wei Wuxian hated how easily the words rolled off Jin Jixuan’s tongue.

He forced out a laugh. “Ah, you caught me! But can you blame me? Lan Zhan and I are practically inseparable. Right, Lan Zhan?”

Lan Wangji blinked slowly. “We are not.”

Wei Wuxian grinned wider, pretending not to hear him. “See? He agrees.”

Jin Jixuan just smiled politely and turned back to Lan Wangji.

Wei Wuxian clenched his fists.

Clearly, direct interruptions weren’t working.

Time to step it up.

---

The Art of Marking Territory

Wei Wuxian started getting comfortable around Lan Wangji.

Well—more comfortable than usual.

Normally, Wei Wuxian’s teasing involved leaning close, nudging Lan Wangji’s arm, or dramatically throwing himself against him in fake despair whenever Jiang Cheng scolded him. Lan Wangji would usually sigh, push him away, or—if Wei Wuxian was lucky—tolerate it.

But now, he made sure to do it whenever Jin Jixuan was around.

If Jin Jixuan and Lan Wangji were standing together? Wei Wuxian would slide right in between them, wrapping an arm around Lan Wangji’s shoulders and flashing a bright grin. “What are we talking about? Don’t leave me out!”

If Jin Jixuan mentioned a story from their childhood, Wei Wuxian would scoff. “Hah, but do you know about the time Lan Zhan got drunk and climbed onto a rooftop? Or how he actually laughed when he saw a bunny for the first time?”

Lan Wangji would frown. “Wei Ying, do not spread falsehoods.”

Wei Wuxian smirked. “Am I? Maybe I should tell Jin-gongzi how you—”

Lan Wangji’s lips pressed into a thin line. “No.”

Jin Jixuan chuckled. “It seems Wei-gongzi knows you well, Wangji.”

Wei Wuxian grinned triumphantly. “Of course! I spend more time with him than anyone else.”

Jin Jixuan only hummed in response, unfazed.

Wei Wuxian huffed.

Clearly, subtle hints weren’t working either.

Time for something bolder.

---

The Final Straw

One afternoon, Wei Wuxian was playing with the little kitten in Lan Wangji’s garden when he overheard a conversation outside.

Jin Jixuan was speaking with Lan Wangji again.

Something about the way Jin Jixuan’s voice lowered when he spoke, the way he addressed Lan Wangji so softly, so warmly—it made Wei Wuxian’s skin crawl.

The kitten meowed as if sensing his mood.

Wei Wuxian scooped the kitten up and marched outside.

“Lan Zhan~” he called out, stretching the syllables playfully.

Lan Wangji turned, looking as stoic as ever. “Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian strode right up to him, kitten still in hand, and did the first thing that came to mind.

He grabbed Lan Wangji’s sleeve.

It wasn’t obvious—not quite. But it was deliberate.

Lan Wangji glanced down at where Wei Wuxian’s fingers curled around the fabric of his robe.

Wei Wuxian pretended not to notice and smiled brightly. “Look at this little guy! He’s been missing you all day.”

The kitten let out a soft mewl, batting at Lan Wangji’s sleeve.

Lan Wangji, completely oblivious to what Wei Wuxian was doing, simply nodded and reached out to pet the kitten’s head.

Jin Jixuan, standing just a step away, watched the interaction with a knowing expression.

Wei Wuxian ignored him.

Instead, he tugged gently on Lan Wangji’s sleeve and tilted his head. “Lan Zhan, do you have time later? I was thinking of—”

“I was actually hoping to speak with Wangji privately,” Jin Jixuan interrupted smoothly.

Wei Wuxian resisted the urge to scowl.

Instead, he tightened his hold on Lan Wangji’s sleeve and sighed dramatically. “But I had plans with him too! Maybe next time?”

Lan Wangji blinked, clearly confused. “…We had no plans.”

Wei Wuxian stepped on his foot.

Lan Wangji stiffened, but mercifully, didn’t call him out on it.

Jin Jixuan raised an eyebrow. “I see.”

Wei Wuxian beamed. “Great! So, Lan Zhan, let’s go—”

Lan Wangji exhaled softly. “Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian froze.

There was something about the way Lan Wangji said his name—not scolding, not annoyed. Just… questioning.

Almost like he was asking—What are you doing?

Wei Wuxian didn’t have an answer.

Because, truthfully, he didn’t know.

He just knew that he didn’t like this.

He didn’t like Jin Jixuan standing so close.

He didn’t like how comfortable he and Lan Wangji seemed.

And he definitely didn’t like hearing someone else say Wangji so casually.

So, instead of answering, he just grinned and tugged on Lan Wangji’s sleeve again. “Come on, let’s go!”

Lan Wangji sighed but, as always, let Wei Wuxian pull him away.

As they walked, Wei Wuxian dared a glance back at Jin Jixuan—

Only to find Jin Jixuan smiling knowingly.

Wei Wuxian’s stomach twisted.

He didn’t know why.

But he hated that smile.

________________

Wei Wuxian stared at Lan Wangji and Jin Jixuan sitting across from each other, their quiet conversation flowing easily over the dining table. His grip on his chopsticks tightened as he watched Lan Wangji nod at something Jin Jixuan said. He wasn’t smiling—Lan Wangji never smiled in public—but his expression was… relaxed.

Wei Wuxian scowled.

Jin Jixuan had been here for five days already. Five whole days!

Why hadn’t he left yet?

Wei Wuxian muttered under his breath, “Isn’t it time for him to go back? He’s already overstayed his welcome.”

Nie Huaisang, sitting beside him, heard the remark and responded casually, “Maybe the Lan Clan has finally decided to marry Lan Wangji off.”

Wei Wuxian’s head snapped toward Nie Huaisang so fast that he nearly knocked over his bowl. “What did you just say?”

Nie Huaisang blinked at him innocently. “Huh? You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

Jiang Cheng, sitting on the other side, glanced up from his food but didn’t interfere, though he raised an eyebrow at Wei Wuxian’s sudden intensity.

Nie Huaisang waved his fan lazily. “Everyone is aware of it. Lan Wangji has been betrothed since birth.”

Wei Wuxian felt like someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over his head. He opened his mouth, then closed it, his mind racing to process the words.

Betrothed?

To who?

He let out a sharp laugh, trying to brush it off. “Haha, good one, Nie-xiong. Don’t joke about things like that.”

Nie Huaisang tilted his head, genuinely confused. “I’m not joking.”

Wei Wuxian’s grin faltered. “You’re serious?”

“Very.”

Wei Wuxian’s chopsticks fell from his hand, clattering onto his plate.

Nie Huaisang shrugged and took a sip of his tea before continuing, “I don’t know who his fiancé is, but it’s a fact that he was engaged at birth. It was foretold by the priest when he was born that he needed to be married before his eighteenth birthday. Otherwise, he’d be in grave danger.”

Wei Wuxian’s stomach twisted.

That—that can’t be true.

Could it?

He had spent months with Lan Wangji, teasing him, fighting with him, getting under his skin, and watching him slowly grow accustomed to his presence. Lan Wangji, who was so pure, so steadfast in his beliefs—how could he be engaged all this time?

It didn’t make sense!

Wei Wuxian forced himself to speak. “And you’re saying that Jin Jixuan qualifies?”

Nie Huaisang nodded. “Well, think about it. Other than Jiang Cheng and you, Jin Jixuan is the only one from our generation who fits the criteria.”

Jiang Cheng, who had been eating in silence, choked on his soup. “Excuse me?!”

Nie Huaisang waved his fan dismissively. “Don’t worry, Jiang-xiong. I doubt the Lan Clan would consider you.”

Jiang Cheng scowled. “As if I’d want to marry Lan Wangji!”

Wei Wuxian barely heard them.

His focus was entirely on Lan Wangji, sitting just a few tables away, completely unaware of the storm brewing in Wei Wuxian’s heart.

Nie Huaisang followed Wei Wuxian’s gaze and hummed. “They do look good together, don’t they?”

Wei Wuxian’s breath hitched.

Nie Huaisang continued, completely oblivious to how much each word was affecting Wei Wuxian. “And Lan Wangji is close to him, you know? Maybe this is why Jin Jixuan has been staying here for so long.”

Something snapped inside Wei Wuxian.

A loud crack echoed through the dining hall.

Nie Huaisang looked down and gasped. “Wei-xiong—your hand!”

Wei Wuxian stared at his own hand in a daze. His fingers had clenched so tightly around his glass that the fragile porcelain had shattered, sharp shards embedding themselves in his palm. Blood trickled down his wrist, staining the table.

Jiang Cheng cursed. “You idiot! What the hell are you doing?!”

“Wei-xiong, you’re bleeding!” Nie Huaisang reached for him, but Wei Wuxian suddenly stood up.

The wooden chair scraped against the floor before toppling over with a loud bang.

All conversation in the hall ceased.

Every head turned toward him.

Lan Wangji, hearing the commotion, lifted his gaze—only to see Wei Wuxian standing there, his expression unreadable, his injured hand dripping blood onto the floor.

“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji’s voice was quiet but firm.

But Wei Wuxian didn’t respond.

He couldn’t.

His throat was dry, and his chest felt tight, suffocating.

The sight of Lan Wangji sitting there with Jin Jixuan, paired with Nie Huaisang’s words—it was too much.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked out.

Jiang Cheng called after him, but Wei Wuxian ignored it.

The moment he left the dining hall, the suffocating weight in his chest only grew worse.

Lan Wangji was engaged.

Lan Wangji was engaged.

Lan Wangji was engaged.

The words pounded in his head like a drum, his heartbeat erratic, his mind refusing to accept the truth.

He didn’t know where he was walking.

He just needed to get away.

Away from the suffocating whispers, away from the sight of Lan Wangji sitting next to someone else, away from this ridiculous feeling clawing at his insides.

His hand ached, but he didn’t care.

The pain in his palm was nothing compared to the pain in his chest.

His legs finally gave out near the edge of the Lotus Pier’s lake, and he sank onto a rock, staring blankly at the rippling water.

How had this happened?

How had he gone from teasing Lan Wangji for fun to feeling like his entire world was tilting on its axis at the mere thought of Lan Wangji marrying someone else?

He had never thought about it before.

Sure, he teased Lan Wangji all the time, threw an arm around him, pulled him close, and reveled in the way the usually impassive Second Jade would scowl and mutter, “Wei Ying, behave.”

But it was just playful banter.

Right?

Then why…

Why did the thought of Lan Wangji belonging to someone else make his blood boil?

Wei Wuxian clenched his injured hand, the sharp sting barely grounding him.

He had never known jealousy could be this painful.

He had never known jealousy at all.

Not until now.

And he had no idea what to do about it.

-------------------------------

Wei Wuxian sat near the edge of the lake, his body hunched forward, elbows resting on his knees, staring blankly at the rippling water.

His heart pounded painfully against his ribcage, the erratic rhythm making it difficult to breathe. His injured hand trembled, fingers slightly curled as if trying to grasp something—someone.

Lan Wangji.

The name echoed in his mind like a relentless storm.

Lan Wangji, the untouchable Second Jade of Lan. The one who frowned at his every joke, who sighed in exasperation but still listened to him. The one who allowed Wei Wuxian into his space, tolerated his antics when no one else could.

And now, he was going to marry someone else?

Wei Wuxian clenched his jaw, his breathing coming out ragged.

It didn’t make sense.

Lan Wangji wasn’t supposed to belong to someone else.

The mere thought of it was enough to make something dark and unrelenting coil inside his chest.

He swallowed thickly, trying to rationalize his emotions, but nothing made sense.

Why did it feel like he was being crushed under the weight of an unbearable truth?

Why did it feel like he was going to die just thinking about Lan Wangji standing next to another alpha, taking vows, accepting their touch—

Wei Wuxian's breath hitched.

No.

He couldn’t picture it.

He wouldn’t.

But his mind, cruel and insistent, kept conjuring images he didn’t want to see.

A nameless alpha standing close to Lan Wangji, fingers brushing against that pristine white sleeve. A faceless figure reaching out, touching the smooth skin of Lan Wangji’s wrist, guiding him into an embrace. A possessive hand wrapping around Lan Wangji’s waist—

Wei Wuxian let out a strangled noise.

No.

No, no, no.

He shut his eyes tightly, his hands clenching into fists. His injured palm stung, but the pain was nothing compared to the agony inside him.

Lan Wangji belonged to him.

Wei Wuxian didn’t know where the thought had come from, but the moment it took form in his mind, it took root.

Lan Wangji was his.

Not some other alpha’s.

Not Jin Jixuan’s.

Not anyone’s.

Only his.

Wei Wuxian felt something terrifying bloom in his chest.

Something wild. Something ruthless.

He whispered hoarsely, “No. No, I can’t let that happen.”

His own voice sounded foreign to his ears.

He had never felt this way before.

He had flirted with dozens of people, teased and played around, but he had never cared. Never felt possessive. Never thought about ownership.

Yet now, the mere idea of another alpha being close to Lan Wangji made his blood boil.

He clenched his jaw, his breath uneven.

Lan Wangji was still only betrothed, not married.

That meant there was still time.

Still time to do something.

Wei Wuxian let out a shaky laugh, rubbing his face with his good hand.

Lan Wangji was his.

And he would be damned if he let anyone take him away.

---

The night air was cool, carrying the scent of lotus blossoms across the quiet lake. The gentle lapping of water against the pier was the only sound in the darkness.

But inside Wei Wuxian, there was no calm.

He paced back and forth in his room, his mind a chaotic mess.

Jiang Cheng had tried to talk to him earlier, but Wei Wuxian had brushed him off, claiming he was tired. But sleep was impossible.

His thoughts kept circling back to the same unbearable truth—

Lan Wangji was engaged to another alpha.

Wei Wuxian gritted his teeth, his hands shaking at his sides.

How had he never known?

Had Lan Wangji ever mentioned it before?

Would Lan Wangji… actually go through with it?

The thought made Wei Wuxian feel physically sick.

Lan Wangji, so serious, so obedient to his clan’s rules—would he accept this arranged marriage without question? Would he let another alpha touch him, claim him, bed him—

Wei Wuxian slammed his fist against the wooden table.

The lantern flickered, casting a distorted shadow against the wall.

No.

No alpha deserved Lan Wangji.

None of them could ever understand him the way Wei Wuxian did. None of them had fought beside him, teased him, pulled him into their chaotic orbit and been accepted.

Wei Wuxian laughed under his breath, the sound sharp and humorless.

“I’ll kill them,” he whispered.

The words slipped out before he even realized it.

But the moment he said them, he knew he meant it.

If any alpha dared to take Lan Wangji away—

Wei Wuxian would destroy them.

He sat down abruptly, rubbing a hand over his face. His heart was pounding.

This was insanity.

He had never felt this way before.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Wei Wuxian let out a shaky breath.

He needed to think.

Lan Wangji wasn’t married yet. That meant he still had a chance.

He just had to figure out what to do.

Wei Wuxian had never been one for strategy. He was reckless, impulsive—but he always won.

And he would win this time, too.

Because losing meant Lan Wangji would belong to someone else.

And that?

That was simply unacceptable.

----------------------------------

The Cloud Recesses had always been a place of serenity—crisp mountain air, perfectly maintained courtyards, and the ever-present sense of discipline that ruled over its disciples. It was a world of logic and tranquility, where chaos had no place.

At least, that was the case until Wei Wuxian came barreling down the white stone steps, eyes locked onto a sight that made his blood boil.

Jin Jixuan and Lan Wangji stood at the entrance gates, speaking quietly.

But what made Wei Wuxian see red was the way Jin Jixuan’s hand had just barely brushed against Lan Wangji’s sleeve.

Without thinking, Wei Wuxian moved.

He stormed forward, cutting between them and grabbing Lan Wangji’s wrist, pulling him toward him. “Lan Zhan, I need you for something.” His grip was firm, but his tone was light, almost playful.

Lan Wangji blinked at him, his lips parting slightly, but before he could answer—

Jin Jixuan’s hand latched onto Lan Wangji’s other wrist.

“Lan Wangji has already agreed to accompany me to the market,” Jin Jixuan stated coolly, his gaze sharp.

Wei Wuxian narrowed his eyes. “Huh? The market?” He scoffed. “Lan Zhan, you actually agreed to go?”

Lan Wangji, caught between the two, remained quiet.

Wei Wuxian turned back to Jin Jixuan, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Did you trick him? There’s no way Lan Zhan would willingly spend his time in a crowded, noisy market.”

Jin Jixuan’s jaw tightened. “I did no such thing. Unlike some people, I don’t need tricks. Lan Wangji understands the value of spending time with people of equal status.”

Wei Wuxian’s lips curled. “Oh? And who exactly are you referring to?”

Jin Jixuan smirked. “If you can’t figure that out, then that’s your problem.”

Wei Wuxian felt his grip tighten unconsciously around Lan Wangji’s wrist. “Well, too bad for you, Young Master Jin, because Lan Zhan is busy.”

Jin Jixuan raised an eyebrow. “Doing what, exactly?”

Wei Wuxian faltered for half a second before grinning. “Something important, of course. Right, Lan Zhan?”

Lan Wangji, utterly unaffected by the silent battle between the two alphas, simply stared at Wei Wuxian.

He neither agreed nor disagreed.

Jin Jixuan took the opportunity to pull him slightly toward him. “Then he can tend to it later.”

Wei Wuxian yanked back. “No, he can’t.”

The back-and-forth continued, their silent war escalating into an actual tug-of-war.

Both refused to let go, each pulling Lan Wangji in their own direction, refusing to acknowledge how ridiculous the situation had become.

Wei Wuxian’s entire focus was on winning.

Jin Jixuan’s expression darkened as he pulled harder.

Lan Wangji frowned slightly, his sleeve tugged on both sides. His usually pristine robes were wrinkling, a clear sign of struggle.

But Wei Wuxian, too caught up in the moment, didn’t realize—until he saw Lan Wangji flinch.

The movement was barely noticeable, but to Wei Wuxian, it was enough.

His chest tightened.

Was he hurting Lan Wangji?

His hand immediately loosened. Then, with a reluctant sigh, he let go completely.

The sudden lack of resistance caused Jin Jixuan to stumble slightly, though he quickly steadied himself.

Wei Wuxian forced a casual grin. “Fine. If you both are so set on this market trip, then I’ll also come.”

Jin Jixuan’s eye twitched. “Why?”

Wei Wuxian shrugged. “Because I also have important business there.”

Lan Wangji blinked at him. “What business?”

Wei Wuxian waved a hand. “Oh, you know. Buying things.”

“Buying what?” Jin Jixuan asked, unimpressed.

Wei Wuxian smirked. “Whatever I feel like.”

Jin Jixuan exhaled through his nose but didn’t argue further. He turned to Lan Wangji. “Shall we go?”

Lan Wangji gave a small nod.

Wei Wuxian immediately positioned himself on Lan Wangji’s other side, making sure there was little room for Jin Jixuan to stand close.

The three of them began their journey.

---

The Battle for Lan Wangji’s Attention

The moment they stepped into the bustling marketplace, Wei Wuxian knew he had one mission:

Keep Lan Wangji away from Jin Jixuan.

He moved with practiced ease, sliding in front of Lan Wangji whenever Jin Jixuan tried to engage him in conversation.

“Oh! Look at that, Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian grabbed Lan Wangji’s wrist, dragging him toward a stall selling various jade ornaments. “This would look great on you.”

Lan Wangji glanced at the jade pieces with mild disinterest. “No need.”

“But it matches your eyes,” Wei Wuxian added smoothly.

Lan Wangji paused.

Jin Jixuan suddenly stepped closer. “Lan Wangji, I recall you liking music instruments. There’s a vendor nearby selling rare guqin strings.”

Wei Wuxian hated how quickly Lan Wangji turned at the mention of guqin strings.

So, before Lan Wangji could respond, Wei Wuxian quickly looped their arms together. “Let’s check out the food stalls first! You do eat, right?”

Lan Wangji gave him a look.

Wei Wuxian laughed, pulling him forward. “Come on, just humor me. I’ll even feed you if you’re too embarrassed.”

Jin Jixuan’s expression darkened.

As they walked past various merchants, Wei Wuxian deliberately leaned in closer to Lan Wangji, ensuring that their arms brushed against each other more than necessary.

Jin Jixuan ground his teeth together.

And then—

Something shifted.

The sky, once clear, began to darken.

A heavy, unnatural energy settled in the air.

Wei Wuxian immediately tensed.

Resentful energy.

His grip on Lan Wangji’s wrist tightened instinctively.

The noise of the marketplace dimmed as an eerie silence spread. Merchants and customers froze, confusion and fear flickering across their faces.

Then, a low, guttural snarl echoed through the streets.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes sharpened.

Jin Jixuan turned swiftly, his hand resting on his sword. “Something’s wrong.”

From the shadows of an alley, they appeared.

A horde of twisted creatures, their bodies shrouded in dark mist, emerged. Their eyes gleamed with a hunger that sent shivers down the spines of those who witnessed them.

People screamed, scrambling to flee.

But Wei Wuxian noticed something disturbing.

The creatures weren’t attacking randomly.

They were focused on Lan Wangji.

Wei Wuxian’s stomach dropped.

This wasn’t a simple attack. This was a hunt.

And Lan Wangji was the prey.

______________________

The moment the creatures surged forward, Wei Wuxian reacted instinctively.

His body twisted as he pulled Lan Wangji behind him, sword already drawn, his grip firm and unyielding.

Jin Jixuan stood to the side, his own sword flashing into his grasp as he took in the sheer number of creatures surrounding them.

“What are these things?” Jin Jixuan muttered, his voice tight with tension.

Wei Wuxian didn’t answer immediately. His eyes swept over the creatures—twisted, monstrous things that reeked of resentful energy. Their forms flickered between shadows and solid figures, their claws elongating as they stalked forward.

But what disturbed him most—

They weren’t attacking him.
They weren’t attacking Jin Jixuan.
They were all focused on Lan Wangji.

Wei Wuxian’s breath hitched.

“This isn’t random,” he muttered. “They’re after Lan Zhan.”

Jin Jixuan’s grip on his sword tightened. “Then we cut them down before they get the chance.”

Before Wei Wuxian could respond, the first creature lunged.

Jin Jixuan moved fast, his sword slicing through the air, cleanly severing the creature’s head from its body. But instead of falling to the ground, the creature dispersed into a thick, swirling mist.

Wei Wuxian cursed. Not normal beasts.

Lan Wangji’s guqin strings thrummed with spiritual energy, and a single note rang through the air, sending a sharp ripple through the resentful mist. The creatures shrieked, momentarily recoiling from the sound.

Wei Wuxian took the opportunity.

He moved.

His sword flashed as he twisted around Lan Wangji, cutting down one, two, three creatures in rapid succession. Each time, the creatures dissolved into mist—but they did not disappear.

Instead, they reformed seconds later, their bodies mending as if nothing had happened.

Wei Wuxian’s stomach clenched.

“We can’t kill them,” he realized.

Jin Jixuan’s face darkened. “Then what do you suggest? Let them take Lan Wangji?”

Wei Wuxian glared at him. “Like hell I’d let that happen.”

The creatures moved again, their bodies flickering as they encircled them, cutting off every escape route.

Wei Wuxian felt the change before he saw it. The air grew thicker, the mist curling unnaturally, as though something more powerful was approaching.

Then—

The creatures parted, shifting to the sides as if making way for someone.

A tall figure stepped forward from the shadows.

Clad in midnight-black robes, his face concealed behind a silver mask, the man exuded an oppressive aura of darkness.

Wei Wuxian felt every instinct in his body scream in warning.

The man’s voice was low, amused. “Quite the struggle, but it’s useless.”

Wei Wuxian narrowed his eyes. “And who might you be?”

The masked man chuckled, tilting his head. “Just someone sent to retrieve what belongs to us.”

Wei Wuxian bristled. “Lan Zhan doesn’t belong to anyone.”

The man’s gaze landed on Lan Wangji, who remained standing tall, his guqin strings thrumming with suppressed energy.

“Ah,” the man murmured. “A noble little thing, aren’t you?”

His voice dripped with amusement.

Wei Wuxian stepped forward, blocking Lan Wangji from view. “If you have something to say, say it to me.”

The masked man regarded him for a moment before letting out a soft laugh.

“You are an interesting one.” His tone darkened. “But you’re also insignificant. You are a mere mortal—do you truly believe you can protect him?”

Wei Wuxian’s fingers twitched around his sword.

Lan Wangji suddenly spoke. “Who sent you?”

The masked man turned toward him. “Does it matter?”

Lan Wangji’s jaw tightened. “You will not take me.”

The masked man sighed. “It was a polite request at first. But if you insist—”

He raised his hand.

The creatures lunged.

Wei Wuxian’s body moved on its own.

He grabbed Lan Wangji’s waist, twisting just as the creatures surged toward them. “Lan Zhan, hold on!”

And before anyone could stop him—

Wei Wuxian jumped.

---

The Fall

The wind rushed past them as they plunged downward.

The cliffside blurred in Wei Wuxian’s vision, but he barely registered it—his focus was entirely on Lan Wangji.

He held tightly, shielding him from the rushing air, ensuring that no harm would come to him.

Then—impact.

The icy shock of water surrounded them as they hit the river below. The current was strong, pulling them under.

Wei Wuxian’s grip tightened around Lan Wangji, refusing to let go even as the water dragged them deeper.

He kicked up, his lungs burning, dragging both of them to the surface.

They broke through, gasping for air.

Wei Wuxian immediately checked Lan Wangji. “Lan Zhan! Are you alright?”

Lan Wangji coughed lightly, his eyes meeting Wei Wuxian’s. “I am fine.”

Wei Wuxian let out a relieved breath. “Good.”

Then—he grinned.

“What a fall, huh?”

Lan Wangji blinked at him. “This is not amusing.”

Wei Wuxian laughed breathlessly. “I thought it was kinda fun.”

Lan Wangji simply stared at him.

Wei Wuxian cleared his throat. “Alright, alright. Let’s find some land before those creatures decide to come after us again.”

With effort, they swam toward the shore, pulling themselves onto the muddy riverbank.

Wei Wuxian flopped onto his back, panting. “Lan Zhan,” he said between breaths, “I think I just saved your life. Shouldn’t you at least thank me?”

Lan Wangji, still catching his breath, simply turned his gaze toward him.

Then, in a soft voice, he said—

“…Thank you.”

Wei Wuxian froze.

His heart stuttered in his chest.

He had been joking. He had expected Lan Wangji to scoff, or ignore him, or maybe even scold him.

But instead, Lan Wangji had actually thanked him.

The warmth in his chest expanded, something dangerous and overwhelming.

Wei Wuxian swallowed, forcing a smirk. “Wow, Lan Zhan, that was fast. I thought I’d have to beg for it.”

Lan Wangji looked away. “I do not say things without meaning them.”

Wei Wuxian felt the words more than he should have.

The warmth in his chest turned into a slow, aching heat.

He turned onto his side, watching the way the moonlight reflected against Lan Wangji’s wet hair, the way the water glistened against his fair skin.

Something inside him clenched.

A deep, visceral urge.

To hold.
To protect.
To never let go.

He had nearly lost Lan Wangji today.

And the mere thought of it made his entire being burn.

Wei Wuxian let out a shaky breath, forcing himself to look away.

He had no right.

Not when Lan Wangji was meant for someone else.

Not when he had no place in his future.

So instead, he grinned, masking the turmoil beneath his skin. “Come on, Lan Zhan. Let’s find a way back before someone thinks we eloped.”

Lan Wangji gave him a look.

Wei Wuxian just laughed.

But deep down—

His heart still ached.

. _______________

Chapter Text

The rain came down in an unforgiving torrent.

Heavy droplets pounded against the earth, the river swelling behind them, a distant roar lost amidst the thunder above. The cold settled deep into their bones, the dampness clinging to their skin like a second layer.

Wei Wuxian let out a sharp curse, his breath misting in the sudden chill.

“Just our luck, huh?” he muttered, immediately shrugging off his outer robe and tossing it over both his and Lan Wangji’s heads. He pressed closer to shield Lan Wangji from the rain, their shoulders brushing, heat trapped in the small space between them.

Lan Wangji made a soft noise of surprise but didn’t pull away.

“We need to find shelter.” Wei Wuxian’s voice was barely audible over the storm.

Together, they ran, their boots splashing through the puddles, their breath coming fast. The wet fabric of their clothes clung to them, making every movement feel heavier, but they didn’t stop.

Then—

A cave.

It loomed before them, hidden between jagged rocks and thick foliage.

Wei Wuxian grabbed Lan Wangji’s wrist and pulled him inside.

The moment they entered, a deep silence settled around them, broken only by the sound of water dripping from their clothes onto the stone floor. The cave was spacious, dark except for the occasional flashes of lightning outside.

Lan Wangji shivered slightly.

Wei Wuxian immediately sprang into action. He moved around the cave, gathering sticks, dried leaves, and bits of bark that had remained untouched by the rain. He knelt, struck a spark, and within moments, a small fire flickered to life.

Warmth filled the cave, the golden glow casting long shadows against the walls.

Wei Wuxian turned toward Lan Wangji—and his breath hitched.

Lan Wangji sat near the fire, his outer robe removed, his white inner robes soaked through, clinging to his slender form like a second skin. His hair was damp, falling loose over his shoulders, strands sticking to the delicate curve of his cheek.

His pale throat, his collarbone, the slight tremble of his lips—

Wei Wuxian’s stomach clenched.

The sight before him was too much.

He looked away.

“Here.” Wei Wuxian searched through his robes. His inner shirt was made of talisman-stitched fabric, designed to repel moisture—it was still dry.

Without turning back, he shoved it in Lan Wangji’s direction.

“Take this. Your clothes are soaked, and you’ll get sick.”

There was a pause. Then, Lan Wangji’s voice, soft and hesitant—

“You… wish for me to wear your clothes?”

Wei Wuxian kept his gaze fixed ahead, pretending to inspect the fire. “Yeah. Just for now. Let your clothes dry first.”

Another pause. Then, in an even quieter voice—

“…You are not changing?”

Wei Wuxian stiffened. He had not thought about that.

He turned his head slightly, only to meet Lan Wangji’s gaze—wide, questioning, far too innocent for someone looking like that.

Heat rushed to Wei Wuxian’s face.

“I—” He cleared his throat. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

Lan Wangji’s lips parted, as if to argue, but after a moment, he simply nodded.

Wei Wuxian turned his back, giving Lan Wangji privacy to change.

Or at least, he tried to.

But then—

His breath caught.

The fire flickered, casting moving shadows on the cave walls. Wei Wuxian hadn’t realized until now—but with his position, he could see Lan Wangji’s silhouette.

The slow, deliberate glide of fabric slipping from his shoulders.

The graceful curve of his back.

The outline of his bare skin, the light catching against his slender frame.

Wei Wuxian’s mind went blank.

Oh. Oh, no.

His pulse pounded so loudly he was sure Lan Wangji could hear it.

He forced his eyes shut, pressing his lips together, willing himself to think about anything else.

Jiang Cheng’s yelling. Lotus Pier’s lake. Wen Qing’s sharp glares.

Not—
Not Lan Wangji.
Not the way his fingers brushed against his own skin, not the way his body moved with an effortless elegance, not the soft rustling of cloth that seemed far too sensual in this quiet cave.

A few agonizing seconds later—

“…You may turn back.”

Wei Wuxian exhaled sharply, opening his eyes—

And froze.

Lan Wangji stood before him, now dressed in Wei Wuxian’s black robes.

The fabric was too big on him, hanging loose over his smaller frame, sleeves constantly slipping past his wrists. His damp hair, now slightly wavy from the rain, framed his face in soft curls.

And—

The collar of Wei Wuxian’s robe was too wide, slipping down one bare shoulder, exposing a glimpse of smooth, pale skin and the delicate curve of his collarbone.

Wei Wuxian gulped.

His throat felt dry.

Lan Wangji shifted slightly, pulling at the sleeve in an attempt to adjust the fit, only for it to slip off his shoulder again.

Wei Wuxian felt something dangerous rise in his chest.

His hands moved before he could stop himself.

He stepped forward.

Lan Wangji’s eyes widened slightly as Wei Wuxian reached out, fingers brushing against his wrist.

“…You’ll trip if this stays like this,” Wei Wuxian murmured.

Lan Wangji stilled.

Wei Wuxian folded the sleeves up, securing them neatly, making sure they wouldn’t fall. His fingers brushed against Lan Wangji’s skin, and the contact sent a shiver down his spine.

He swallowed. Kept going.

The collar—
He reached out, adjusting it so it wouldn’t slip.

His fingers lingered, just for a moment, against the bare skin of Lan Wangji’s shoulder.

Lan Wangji’s breath hitched.

Their gazes locked.

The air shifted.

Wei Wuxian was too close. He could feel the warmth radiating off of Lan Wangji’s skin, see the delicate flush creeping up his pale cheeks.

For a moment—

For a single, fleeting moment—

Wei Wuxian thought about leaning in.

Then, reality crashed back.

Wei Wuxian jerked back, his breath unsteady.

“I—” He turned abruptly. “I’ll go check the rest of the cave. Maybe I’ll find something useful.”

Lan Wangji blinked, still looking dazed. “…Mn.”

Wei Wuxian forced himself to move, stepping to the far side of the cave.

He needed to clear his head.

Lan Wangji, wearing his robes.
Lan Wangji, sitting by the fire, looking too soft, too beautiful, too tempting.
Lan Wangji, staring at him with wide, expectant eyes.

Wei Wuxian clenched his fists.

This night was going to be absolute hell.

__________

Wei Wuxian stood at the mouth of the cave, his upper body exposed to the cold, relentless downpour. The icy rain pelted against his skin, streaming down his face and soaking his hair. He let it wash over him, hoping it would cool the fire raging inside his chest.

But no amount of rain could douse the heat coiling inside him. The sight of Lan Wangji in his clothes, his delicate features softened by firelight, lingered in his mind like an intoxicating memory. He clenched his fists. What is wrong with me?

His turbulent emotions were abruptly interrupted when a dark, chilling force brushed against the edge of his consciousness.

His entire demeanor shifted. The faint stir of resentful energy was subtle, but unmistakable. His instincts screamed in alarm. Wei Wuxian’s body tensed, his eyes sharpening as he scanned the darkness beyond the rain-soaked trees.

Then he sensed it—movement.

His heart pounded, but this time, it wasn’t from desire. It was battle readiness. His fingers twitched, reaching for his pouch, but he quickly realized he had lost most of his talismans in the river. No matter. I don't need them.

Turning sharply, he pressed his thumb against his lips and bit down, drawing blood. With a swift motion, he traced a sigil into the air. The symbol flared ominously before expanding into a massive, shimmering barrier around the cave. A surge of energy rippled outward, causing the very air to vibrate.

Lan Wangji was defenseless inside. Wei Wuxian would not allow anything—or anyone—to lay a finger on him.

As the barrier locked into place, a transformation came over Wei Wuxian. Gone was the mischievous, carefree young man. In his place stood a warrior—a future ruler—his posture straight, his gaze unyielding. He was no longer just Wei Wuxian, the unruly disciple of Yunmeng Jiang. He was the heir to the fallen Wei Kingdom, the last of his bloodline, and he would fight until his last breath.

The first of the creatures slithered from the shadows. Then more followed.

Dozens of grotesque, twisted beings emerged, their glowing eyes gleaming with hunger. Their bodies contorted in unnatural ways, some with elongated limbs, others with jagged, bone-like protrusions. They moved like wraiths, their growls reverberating through the storm.

And at their center, a man stood—clad in dark robes and wearing a smooth, featureless mask.

Wei Wuxian smirked. He knew power when he sensed it. This masked figure was no ordinary cultivator.

The man took a step forward, his voice smooth yet taunting. “Wei Wuxian. It is useless to resist. Surrender now and hand over Lan Wangji. You cannot possibly fight all of us.”

Wei Wuxian barked out a sharp laugh, tilting his head as he regarded the man with amused disdain. “Wow, you sound so confident! But I should warn you—I have a habit of making people eat their words.” His eyes glinted with a challenge. “Since I’m generous, I’ll give you one last chance to turn around and keep your miserable lives.”

The masked man chuckled. “Arrogant fool. Later, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

With a flick of his wrist, the masked man commanded the creatures to attack.

They lunged.

A tidal wave of snarling, hissing beasts surged toward Wei Wuxian, their claws glinting under the stormy sky.

The leader turned away, already walking toward the cave, assuming victory was assured.

He never made it past the barrier.

A violent force slammed into him, sending him hurtling backward. He crashed into the muddy ground, his robes torn and streaked with dirt. Stunned, he scrambled to his feet, eyes widening in disbelief.

Wei Wuxian stood where he was, his expression unreadable, his body surrounded by a dark, ominous aura. The very earth trembled beneath his feet.

Then, his eyes changed.

A crimson glow flickered within his pupils, spreading like ink until his entire irises burned a deep, haunting red.

The leader barely had time to process the sight before something even more terrifying happened.

Wei Wuxian’s gaze hardened—and with a single look, the entire battlefield ignited.

Every creature that had dared to charge at him let out agonized, inhuman screams as flames engulfed them. Their bodies twisted, writhing as they burned away, reduced to nothing but smoldering ashes. The fire raged for mere seconds before vanishing, leaving behind nothing but silence.

The leader’s breath caught in his throat.

Impossible.

He had heard rumors—whispers of a terrifying power hidden within the Wei bloodline. But he had dismissed them as myths. Now, watching this scene unfold before him, he realized how naive he had been.

His hands trembled. What is Wei Wuxian?

The entire world seemed to vibrate with Wei Wuxian’s sheer presence. He took a slow step forward, then another, his red eyes gleaming dangerously.

“You wanted to know who I am?” he murmured, his voice low and lethal. “Then look into my eyes.”

The leader stumbled backward, but it was too late.

Wei Wuxian flicked his fingers, and an invisible force dragged the leader toward him. He crashed into Wei Wuxian’s grasp, his throat caught in an unbreakable grip.

Panic clawed at his chest. He struggled, but it was useless.

Wei Wuxian’s expression was eerily calm as he peered into the man’s soul. A dark mark slithered up Wei Wuxian’s arm—vein-like tendrils pulsing with an ancient power. Then, on his chest, a small, intricate shell-like mark surfaced, glowing faintly.

Recognition dawned in the leader’s eyes.

Horror followed.

“No…” he choked out. “You… you’re not a mortal…”

He squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to look away—but it was futile. As soon as his gaze locked with Wei Wuxian’s, his body convulsed violently.

A guttural scream tore from his lips.

Blood seeped from his eyes, nose, and mouth. His body twitched, his flesh burning from the inside out.

Wei Wuxian crouched beside the writhing figure, his tone almost mocking. “What’s wrong? Didn’t you want to know the truth? Here, I’ll give you the answer you were so eager to find.”

The leader’s screams grew ragged, his limbs flailing as the fire spread.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes gleamed with a cruel amusement. “You thought you could take something precious from me? You dared to lay your hands on Lan Zhan?” His smile turned razor-sharp. “You should’ve known better.”

The leader’s body was fully consumed by flames. With one final, ear-piercing wail, he disintegrated into nothingness. The fire flickered once before fading, leaving only a pile of ashes.

Wei Wuxian stared at the remains, his rage still simmering beneath his skin. His hands clenched into fists, his chest rising and falling heavily.

The storm raged on, but the battlefield was silent.

A gust of wind swept through, carrying the ashes away. Wei Wuxian exhaled slowly, willing his pulse to steady. His red eyes gradually dimmed, fading back to their usual dark hue.

He turned toward the cave, the barrier still shimmering protectively around it. He had won this battle, but something told him this was far from over.

As he stepped toward the cave, his heart ached with a different kind of fire—one that had nothing to do with battle.

Lan Wangji…

He had almost lost him today. The thought sent a chill down his spine far colder than the rain ever could.

With quiet determination, he dispelled the barrier and stepped inside.

Lan Wangji was waiting for him, his golden eyes filled with unspoken questions.

Wei Wuxian sighed, exhaustion creeping into his bones.

“It’s over,” he murmured.

But even as he spoke, he knew—this was only the beginning.

________________

The air inside the throne room of the Night Palace was thick with the scent of burning incense, a veil of crimson mist shrouding the great hall in an eerie glow. The torches on the obsidian walls flickered wildly, their flames hissing as if they were sentient beings whispering secrets of the damned. At the far end of the room, seated on a massive throne carved from black jade, was Wen Ruohan, the Supreme Leader of the Wen Clan, his sharp eyes glowing ominously in the dim light.

Before him, the hall doors creaked open, and a group of demons entered, bowing low to the floor. Their skeletal frames trembled, their ashen skin stretched too tightly over their malformed bodies. Even with their faces downcast, it was evident that they were afraid.

Wen Ruohan leaned forward, his deep voice reverberating through the chamber. “Speak. What news have you brought?”

One of the demons hesitated before answering, its voice quivering. “M-My Lord… Wen Zhuliu has been killed.”

Silence stretched across the hall, suffocating and foreboding. The temperature in the room seemed to plummet, yet the air around Wen Ruohan crackled with barely contained fury.

His grip on the armrests of his throne tightened. “Who did it?” His voice was as calm as the stillness before a storm.

The demon shrank back in terror, unable to provide an answer.

In an instant, flames erupted around the demon’s body. The creature’s agonized screams echoed throughout the hall as Wen Ruohan’s fiery energy consumed it, reducing it to nothing but ashes.

The remaining demons scrambled backward, bowing even lower, their heads pressed against the cold stone floor.

“Useless.” Wen Ruohan exhaled sharply, his patience thinning.

Before he could order more punishments, the doors of the throne room swung open once more. A lone figure entered, stepping over the remnants of the incinerated demon without hesitation. Dressed in golden robes with his hair neatly tied back, the newcomer knelt on one knee before Wen Ruohan, bowing his head respectfully.

The courtiers in the hall gasped. It was Jin Zixuan.

Or rather, it appeared to be him.

Wen Ruohan’s eyes gleamed with interest as he studied the man before him. “You finally arrive. Stand and speak.”

The man lifted his head, revealing the unmistakable features of Jin Zixuan—his high cheekbones, sharp nose, and the signature golden robes of the Jin Clan. However, the smirk that graced his lips was far too cruel, too malicious, to belong to the righteous young master of the Jin Sect.

This was no Jin Zixuan.

It was Wen Xu, Wen Ruohan’s eldest son, wearing the skin of the man he had mercilessly slaughtered.

Wen Xu stood gracefully, his posture poised yet exuding an air of arrogance as he addressed his father.

“Father, there is no need to be troubled. Leave this matter to me. I will deliver Lan Wangji to you and personally bring you the head of Wei Wuxian.”

Wen Ruohan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what makes you think you can succeed where Wen Zhuliu failed?”

Wen Xu’s smirk deepened. “Simple. Unlike him, I have no need to fight my way in. I will walk into the Lan Clan’s stronghold openly. I have already dealt with Jin Zixuan. With his face and identity, I can gain their trust. They won’t suspect a thing.”

Wen Ruohan tapped his fingers against his throne, considering his son’s words. “You have always been ambitious, Wen Xu. But do not let arrogance blind you. Lan Wangji is no fool.”

“Of course,” Wen Xu agreed. “Which is why I will not act rashly. I will blend in, observe him, and wait for the right moment. No one will question Jin Zixuan’s presence, especially after everything that has transpired.”

Wen Ruohan exhaled slowly, his lips curling into a sinister smile. “And what of Wei Wuxian?”

At the mention of that name, Wen Xu’s expression darkened. He had watched as Wei Wuxian humiliated the Wen Clan. A mere orphan raised by the Jiang Sect, yet he possessed power that defied all logic.

“It’s impossible to ignore that Wei Wuxian has been present every time our forces have fallen. And now, with Wen Zhuliu dead, there is no doubt—he is the one behind this. He has some kind of power, one that he is keeping hidden.”

Wen Ruohan’s fingers stilled. “A hidden power?”

“Yes.” Wen Xu’s golden eyes gleamed with malice. “We’ve underestimated him long enough. If I kill Wei Wuxian, our problems are solved. But if we capture him alive, we may uncover the truth about his abilities. Either way, he will not escape.”

Wen Ruohan chuckled darkly. “Ambitious, indeed. And what is your plan to capture him?”

Wen Xu smirked. “Wei Wuxian may be powerful, but he has one fatal weakness.”

Wen Ruohan narrowed his eyes. “Lan Wangji.”

Wen Xu nodded. “Wei Wuxian’s greatest flaw is his inability to let go. He will not allow anyone to take Lan Wangji from his side. All I need to do is use that against him. If I capture Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian will come for him. And when he does… we will have him trapped.”

A low chuckle escaped Wen Ruohan’s lips. “Good. Very good. You have my approval, Wen Xu. Do not fail me.”

Wen Xu’s smirk widened as he bowed. “I will not disappoint you, Father.”

After receiving his father’s approval, Wen Xu strode down the dimly lit corridors of the Night Palace, his excitement barely contained.

He entered a hidden chamber where a lifeless body lay on a stone table—Jin Zixuan’s body.

Wen Xu sneered at the corpse. “You were a fool, Jin Zixuan. You could have lived a life of luxury, yet you were too weak to protect what was yours. Now, your name will serve a greater purpose.”

With a flick of his fingers, dark energy enveloped Jin Zixuan’s body. His features twisted, his skin stretching unnaturally as it molded itself like clay. The process was gruesome—his bones cracked and reshaped, his hair lengthened, and his eyes darkened into the cold arrogance Jin Zixuan was known for.

When the transformation was complete, Wen Xu stepped forward and looked into the mirror.

The face staring back at him was no longer his own.

It was Jin Zixuan’s.

His lips curled into a smirk as he picked up Jin Zixuan’s sword, testing its weight.

“Now, let the game begin.”

As Wen Xu prepared to leave for the Lan Clan, Wen Ruohan gave one final command.

“Bring Lan Wangji to me alive. Do not damage him. But as for Wei Wuxian…” His eyes gleamed with malice. “Kill him. Slowly.”

Wen Xu bowed. “Consider it done.”

As he left the Night Palace, disguised as Jin Zixuan, he imagined the moment Wei Wuxian would fall to his knees in despair, watching Lan Wangji be taken from him.

The mere thought made him grin.

The hunt had begun.

_______________

The sound of rain echoed against the cave walls, a steady rhythm that mixed with the crackling of the fire. The small cave, though providing shelter from the storm, was damp and cold, its stone walls reflecting the flickering orange glow of the flames.

Wei Wuxian stepped inside, shaking off the wetness from his clothes, his black robes clinging to his body. His hair was damp, a few strands sticking to his forehead. He looked up and saw Lan Wangji sitting near the fire, wrapped in his outer robe, his appearance pristine despite the harshness of the weather. His delicate features were illuminated by the firelight, his expression unreadable as he gazed into the flames.

But the moment Lan Wangji felt Wei Wuxian’s presence, he turned swiftly, his golden eyes filled with concern. In an instant, he was at Wei Wuxian’s side.

“You are hurt,” Lan Wangji stated, his voice calm but carrying a weight of worry.

Wei Wuxian blinked. “Huh?”

Lan Wangji’s gaze had locked onto the small cut on Wei Wuxian’s chest, where fresh blood was seeping through the fabric. It was a wound from earlier—one that had stopped bleeding before, but the exertion of using his strength must have reopened it.

Before Wei Wuxian could say anything, Lan Wangji took hold of his wrist and guided him towards a stone slab, silently urging him to sit. His movements were gentle yet firm, his grip warm despite the cold air around them.

Wei Wuxian didn’t resist, but he remained oddly quiet. His usually lively expression softened as he watched Lan Wangji fuss over him, his pale fingers brushing over the damp fabric of Wei Wuxian’s robes as he inspected the wound.

Lan Wangji frowned. “Do you have any herbs?”

Wei Wuxian didn’t respond. He just continued looking at Lan Wangji, unblinking, as if entranced.

Lan Wangji searched through his own robes first, but he had no medicine with him. Then, without hesitation, he moved to check Wei Wuxian’s robes. His fingers brushed against Wei Wuxian’s waist, searching with precise movements until he found a small sachet tucked inside the folds of his belt.

Pulling it out, Lan Wangji sat down beside Wei Wuxian and opened the pouch, revealing finely ground medicinal herbs. With practiced efficiency, he took a pinch of the powder and carefully applied it to the wound, his fingertips barely pressing against Wei Wuxian’s skin.

The moment Lan Wangji’s hand touched his chest, Wei Wuxian snapped back to reality.

He flinched, his muscles tensing under the touch.

Lan Wangji mistook it for pain and immediately leaned in, blowing softly on the wound.

“My mother used to do this,” Lan Wangji murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “It helps ease the pain.”

Wei Wuxian’s breath hitched.

The warmth of Lan Wangji’s breath against his bare chest sent an uncontrollable shiver through him. His hands clenched against the edge of the stone slab, his nails digging into the rough surface. He felt feverish, his heart pounding against his ribs.

Does Lan Wangji have any idea how alluring he looks right now?

His dark robes, slightly damp from the cave’s moisture, clung to his frame, emphasizing his delicate yet firm figure. His long lashes cast shadows on his cheeks as he concentrated on his task, completely oblivious to the effect he was having on Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian swallowed hard, panic rising in his chest.

This is bad.

Lan Wangji was an Omega. A beautiful, rare, and unbonded Omega. And Wei Wuxian was an Alpha.

No matter how much he tried to suppress his instincts, he was still affected by Lan Wangji’s presence—especially in such an intimate moment. He couldn’t let himself lose control. Not here. Not now.

Just as Lan Wangji finished applying the medicine, Wei Wuxian abruptly pulled away, standing up and putting distance between them.

“Ha—Hanguang-Jun, you’re so skilled at treating wounds! Maybe I should get injured more often,” he joked, forcing out a laugh to dissolve the tension he was feeling.

Lan Wangji looked at him with an unreadable expression, his golden eyes studying him carefully. He didn’t respond, but there was something in his gaze—something searching, something curious.

Wei Wuxian quickly turned away, focusing on the fire instead. “Anyway! As soon as the rain stops, we’ll head back to Cloud Recesses.”

Just as the words left his lips, a deafening clap of thunder shook the cave.

A flash of lightning illuminated the entrance for a split second—before a loud crashing noise followed.

The mouth of the cave collapsed, large boulders and debris tumbling down and sealing them inside.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes widened. “Shit!”

He rushed to the entrance and immediately tried to push at the rocks, but they were heavy—too heavy to move with mere strength alone. He could use his powers, but not in front of Lan Wangji. He had been careful to keep his abilities hidden.

Lan Wangji approached, his gaze calm but alert. “We are trapped.”

Wei Wuxian exhaled, forcing himself to smile reassuringly. “It’s fine, it’s fine. We’re together, aren’t we? No need to panic! I’m sure someone will pass by in the morning and help us.”

Lan Wangji remained silent, his gaze lingering on Wei Wuxian for a long moment. Then, he nodded.

Accepting their situation, Wei Wuxian turned his attention to making the space more comfortable.

He gathered leaves and dry grass, carefully spreading them on the stone slab to make a sleeping area for Lan Wangji. He then added more twigs to the fire, ensuring it would last through the night.

Finally, he sat down on the ground near the fire, leaning against the stone slab. He patted it. “Alright, Lan Zhan, you sleep here.”

Lan Wangji looked at him. “Where will you sleep?”

Wei Wuxian grinned. “Me? I’ll just sit here. I’ll keep watch so you can sleep without worries.”

Lan Wangji didn’t move.

He continued to stare at Wei Wuxian, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he lay down on the makeshift bed, resting his head against the bundle of grass.

But his eyes remained on Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian, despite himself, felt his heartbeat quicken under that silent gaze.

Lan Wangji’s eyes held something—something deep, something unknown.

A feeling of protection settled over Lan Wangji as he watched Wei Wuxian’s back, the fire casting shadows over his features. He felt… safe.

Slowly, Lan Wangji’s eyes fluttered closed.

__

The fire crackled softly, its glow casting warm light over the cave walls. Rain continued to pour outside, its rhythmic pattering against the rocks filling the silence between them. Wei Wuxian leaned back on his arms, staring into the flames, his bare chest finally drying from the earlier river plunge.

Opposite him, Lan Wangji lay still, wrapped in the dark inner robe Wei Wuxian had given him. The oversized fabric dwarfed his small frame, the sleeves too long and the hem dragging past his feet. He had tried to sleep, but Wei Wuxian could tell from the subtle movement of his lashes that he was still awake.

Wei Wuxian smirked. “Lan Zhan, you’re not asleep, are you?”

Lan Wangji didn’t answer, but after a long pause, his golden eyes blinked open. He turned his head slightly, gazing at Wei Wuxian through the soft glow of the fire.

Wei Wuxian grinned, shifting onto his side to prop himself up on one elbow. “It’s funny, isn’t it? Out of all the places we could’ve ended up, we’re stuck in a cave in the middle of a storm. You ever get into situations like this before?”

Lan Wangji was quiet for a moment, then finally spoke. “No.”

That single word was enough to send a spark of curiosity through Wei Wuxian. “Really? Never? You’ve never been stranded somewhere weird, never had to rough it out in the wild, never been shirtless in a cave with a handsome man keeping you company?”

Lan Wangji exhaled sharply—something that might have been the start of a laugh but was quickly reined in. “No,” he repeated, though this time, his voice held the slightest hint of amusement.

Wei Wuxian chuckled. “Well, there’s a first time for everything, huh?”

Lan Wangji shifted, pulling the robe tighter around himself. The movement made the too-large collar slip slightly, exposing the pale curve of his shoulder. Wei Wuxian, without thinking, blurted out,
. “Lan Zhan, you look like a child wearing their father’s robes.”

Lan Wangji shot him a glare, but it lacked its usual sharpness. He pulled the robe tighter around himself, lips pressing into a thin line.

Wei Wuxian grinned wider. “Come on, don’t be shy. It suits you. You look kinda cute.”

Lan Wangji stiffened, his ears barely visible under his loose hair, but the tips had turned a telltale shade of pink. He turned his face slightly away, pretending to focus on the fire.

Wei Wuxian chuckled. “What? Did I say something wrong? Can’t a man compliment his friend?”

Lan Wangji didn’t respond, but Wei Wuxian could see the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his hands curled around the oversized sleeves of the robe. It was a rare sight—Lan Wangji looking unsure, vulnerable.

The thought sent an odd, almost protective feeling surging through Wei Wuxian.

He sighed, leaning back on his arms again. “Well, it’s a good thing we found this cave. Otherwise, we’d both be freezing to death out there.”

Lan Wangji hummed in agreement but didn’t say anything. His gaze flickered toward the cave entrance, now blocked by fallen rocks, before returning to the fire.

Wei Wuxian watched him for a moment before speaking again. “You should sleep, Lan Zhan. I’ll keep watch.”

Lan Wangji frowned. “You are injured. You should rest.”

Wei Wuxian waved a hand dismissively. “It’s just a scratch. I’ve had worse.”

Still, Lan Wangji hesitated.

Wei Wuxian sighed, sitting up properly. “Fine, how about this? You sleep first. Once you’re well-rested, you can take over, and I’ll get some sleep. Deal?”

Lan Wangji looked at him for a long moment before finally nodding. Without another word, he shifted, settling onto the makeshift bedding Wei Wuxian had arranged with grass and straw. The robe bunched around him, and for a moment, he looked hesitant, as if he wasn’t used to sleeping in such conditions.

Wei Wuxian chuckled. “What? Never slept on the ground before?”

Lan Wangji shook his head.

Wei Wuxian laughed. “You really are a spoiled young master.”

Lan Wangji glared at him again, but it lacked any real heat.

“Fine, fine, I’ll be quiet,” Wei Wuxian said, raising his hands in surrender. “Sleep well, Lan Zhan.”

The conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence. Wei Wuxian watched the fire flicker, his fingers idly tracing patterns against the stone beneath him. The warmth of the flames was welcome against his still-cooling skin, but the occasional gust of wind from outside made the cave chillier than expected.

“You’re still cold, aren’t you?”

Lan Wangji hesitated. “…A little.”

Wei Wuxian sat up properly. “Then come here.”

Lan Wangji blinked at him.

Wei Wuxian patted the ground beside him. “Come on, Lan Zhan. I’m warm. You’re cold. Basic survival tactics—shared body heat, you know?”

Lan Wangji didn’t move. His gaze flickered between Wei Wuxian’s bare chest and the empty space beside him, unreadable emotions shifting beneath his calm expression.

Wei Wuxian tilted his head. “What? Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed.”

“I am not,” Lan Wangji said instantly, but his ears betrayed him by turning slightly pink.

Wei Wuxian smirked. “Then come over here, Second Master Lan.”

A long pause.

Then, slowly, Lan Wangji pushed himself up and moved toward Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian had meant for them to simply sit close together, maybe shoulder to shoulder, sharing warmth the way he had done countless times with Jiang Cheng and the others during colder nights. But Lan Wangji, in his solemn, literal-minded way, knelt beside him and, after a brief hesitation, leaned against him.

Wei Wuxian barely had time to process the warmth of Lan Wangji’s body before a delicate weight settled against his side, a smooth forehead resting lightly against his bare shoulder.

He stiffened.

Lan Wangji was leaning on him. Voluntarily.

Wei Wuxian’s brain short-circuited.

Lan Wangji was small and light, barely making a dent against him, but his warmth seeped through the damp chill of the cave, sinking into Wei Wuxian’s skin. His hair, still faintly damp, tickled Wei Wuxian’s collarbone where it spilled over his shoulder.

Wei Wuxian swallowed. His heart did an odd little flip in his chest.

“Are you warm now?” he asked, his voice strangely hoarse.

Lan Wangji nodded slightly, his forehead brushing against Wei Wuxian’s shoulder. “Mn.”

Wei Wuxian let out a slow breath, forcing himself to relax. He had invited this. It was his idea. He couldn’t freak out now just because Lan Wangji actually listened.

He let his body go slack, getting used to the sensation of Lan Wangji’s weight against him. The fire crackled, the rain poured outside, and for a long while, they just sat there, pressed together in silence.

It was… nice.

Too nice.

Wei Wuxian resisted the urge to glance down at Lan Wangji, afraid that if he looked too closely, he might……

For a while, everything was peaceful.

But then, hours later, Wei Wuxian felt movement.

He turned his head and froze.

Lan Wangji was shivering.

Even wrapped in the thick robe, his body trembled, his lips had turned a faint shade of purple, and his usually pale skin looked almost too white under the firelight. His brows were furrowed, his breath uneven.

Wei Wuxian cursed under his breath, immediately shifting closer. He pressed a hand to Lan Wangji’s forehead—too warm. A fever.

“Lan Zhan,” he called softly, shaking his shoulder. “Hey, wake up.”

Lan Wangji didn’t respond.

Wei Wuxian felt panic creep up his spine. No, no, no. This isn’t good.

He immediately start pulling him up so that his head rested properly on Wei Wuxian’s shoulder. His usually neat hair spilled over Wei Wuxian’s bare chest, soft strands catching the dim firelight.

Wei Wuxian placed both hands on Lan Wangji’s back and started transferring spiritual energy, hoping to stabilize him. A soft golden glow spread from his palms, but after a few moments, Lan Wangji’s shivering didn’t stop.

Wei Wuxian bit his lip. What else can I do?
Wei Wuxian ran a hand through his hair, trying to think.

I need to warm him up. Fast.

He glanced down at himself—bare-chested, still radiating warmth from sitting near the fire.

There was only one real solution.

His face heated at the thought.

Wei Wuxian swallowed hard. He’d done reckless things before, but this…

He looked back at Lan Wangji. His expression was tight, his usually serene face scrunched in discomfort. His skin was deathly pale except for the fevered flush on his cheeks.

Wei Wuxian clenched his fists. Forget it. This isn’t the time to hesitate.

Then, in a barely audible whisper, he murmured, “I’m sorry, Lan Zhan.”

Before he could second-guess himself, he reached behind and untied the cloth wrapped around his wrist. With steady hands, he tied it around his own eyes, plunging himself into darkness.
This way, I won’t see anything.

His heart pounded as he reached for the knot of Lan Wangji’s robe. His fingers trembled slightly as he pulled it loose. The oversized fabric slid from Lan Wangji’s small frame, pooling around his waist.

Even blindfolded, Wei Wuxian could feel the warmth radiating from Lan Wangji’s fevered skin.

His throat went dry.

Wei Wuxian could feel the warmth of Lan Wangji’s bare skin even before he touched him.

He hesitated again, his hands hovering above Lan Wangji’s shoulders.

Just do it. He needs warmth.

Gritting his teeth, Wei Wuxian pulled Lan Wangji into his arms. Wei wuxian himself lay down on the stone slab in front of fire putting lan wangji on his chest , positioning him so that their bare chests were pressed together.

A sharp jolt ran through Wei Wuxian’s body.

Lan Wangji was so small. So warm.

Wei Wuxian tried not to think about it. He reached for the robe and pulled it over both of them, tucking it around Lan Wangji’s back to trap the heat.
His arms slid around Lan Wangji’s back, holding him close. His hands began moving in slow, steady strokes—rubbing warmth into Lan Wangji’s icy arms, pressing against the delicate curve of his spine, making sure his body absorbed the heat.He used his legs to gently press against Lan Wangji’s feet, trying to warm them up as well.

Lan Wangji stirred slightly, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he nuzzled closer.

Wei Wuxian froze.

Then, Lan Wangji’s arms wrapped around him.

Wei Wuxian nearly choked.

The blindfold prevented him from seeing, but he felt everything—the way Lan Wangji’s small hands gripped his back, the way his breath ghosted over Wei Wuxian’s collarbone.

Wei Wuxian clenched his jaw, forcing himself to remain still.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing.

He’s just sick. He’s just reacting to warmth.

Wei Wuxian repeated the words in his head like a mantra, but his body refused to listen. Blood started rushing south.His heart pounded loudly, his breathing uneven.

Just focus on keeping him warm. That’s all.

Minutes passed. Then an hour.

Eventually, the trembling stopped.

Lan Wangji’s feverish grip slackened, his breathing evening out as he settled into a deeper sleep.

Wei Wuxian exhaled shakily.

Slowly, carefully, he disentangled himself, removing Lan Wangji’s arms from around his waist. His own body felt oddly cold now that the warmth was gone.

Still blindfolded, he reached for the robe and carefully dressed Lan Wangji again, making sure he was properly covered.

Finally, once everything was in place, he removed the blindfold and blinked down at Lan Wangji’s sleeping face.

His expression was peaceful now, lips slightly parted, dark lashes resting against pale cheeks.

Wei Wuxian swallowed hard.

And at that moment, clarity hit him like a lightning strike.

He couldn’t lose Lan Wangji. He wouldn’t.

From now on, he wouldn’t allow anyone to take Lan Wangji from him.

His heart had already marked him as his.

Lan Wangji would be his mate. His alone.

And Wei Wuxian would turn the world upside down to make it happen.

_____________________

A loud crash shook Wei Wuxian awake. His instincts flared, and his hand shot toward his waist, reaching for his sword—only to grasp empty air. It took him a moment to remember where he was: the cave, the storm, Lan Wangji…

Before he could fully process his surroundings, figures stormed into the cave, their silhouettes dark against the flickering firelight. A strong gust of cold wind rushed inside, and Wei Wuxian immediately recognized the unmistakable voices of Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen.

Wei Wuxian barely had time to react when Jiang Cheng’s voice echoed through the cavern.

“What the hell is this?!”

His eyes darted toward Lan Wangji, who stirred beside him. The warmth from the fire had lulled him into a deep sleep, but the commotion had roused him. He sat up, blinking groggily, his usually pristine hair slightly mussed, the oversized dark robe slipping off one shoulder—Wei Wuxian’s robe.

Wei Wuxian got no chance to explain. Jiang Cheng strode forward with a thunderous expression, eyes burning with disbelief and barely contained rage. Lan Xichen’s reaction was quieter but just as devastating—his usually composed features had frozen into an expression of pure horror.

Lan disciples behind them gasped audibly at the sight before Lan Xichen barked an order:

“Everyone, outside. Now.”

The disciples hesitated for a split second before quickly retreating. The tension inside the cave grew suffocating.

Lan Xichen took a single step forward, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out. His gaze landed on his younger brother.

Lan Wangji, still dazed from sleep, looked around in confusion, his usual composure absent. His bare shoulder was exposed, and the robe was barely hanging onto his slender frame. Wei Wuxian’s dark inner robe, far too large, draped loosely over him, the sleeves too long, the belt tied haphazardly as though put on in a hurry.

It was the most scandalous Lan Xichen had ever seen his little brother.

His hands clenched into fists. Wei Wuxian.

Lan Xichen turned his attention to the man in question, and his stomach sank at the sight.

Wei Wuxian was bare-chested, his robes discarded, revealing the lean muscle of his torso. The firelight flickered against his skin, accentuating the small red marks on his chest—not injuries, but clear traces of touch.

Lan Xichen’s stomach dropped.

“You—” He could barely speak.

What have you done to Wangji?

Jiang Cheng, in contrast, was not silent. He marched forward, grabbed Wei Wuxian’s arm, and yanked him away from the stone slab where he had been sitting so closely to Lan Wangji.

“You bastard! How could you—?!” Jiang Cheng’s voice was laced with outrage.

Wei Wuxian stumbled at the force, barely catching himself. His mind raced, still sluggish from sleep, still processing what was happening.

Wait. Wait.

This looks bad.

This looks really bad.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes flicked toward Lan Wangji. The young master of the Lan clan was sitting there, his bare shoulder peeking out, his robe all wrong, looking confused but silent.

And Wei Wuxian—half-naked, sitting too close, his own robes missing—

Shit.

He turned to Jiang Cheng, Lan Xichen, anyone, and tried to speak, tried to explain, but Jiang Cheng was already dragging him out of the cave with brute strength.

“Jiang Cheng, wait—! Let me explain!” Wei Wuxian struggled against his grip.

Jiang Cheng was furious.

“Explain?! What exactly is there to explain? You— You bastard, what the hell were you doing in there? With Lan Wangji of all people?!”

Wei Wuxian bristled, his heart pounding.

“I didn’t do anything! It’s not what you think!”

___________________

The moment Lan Xichen stepped inside the cave, his breath caught in his throat.

Lan Wangji, his usually immaculate, untouchable younger brother, sat on the stone slab dressed in Wei Wuxian’s robes. The robe was loosely draped over him, slipping off one shoulder, clearly too large. His hair was slightly mussed, his usual Lan Sect uniform nowhere in sight.

A sharp breath left him, and he forced himself to move, but carefully, cautiously, as if approaching a frightened animal.

"Wangji," he called softly.

Lan Wangji blinked in confusion, the sudden voices and cold air from outside bringing him further awake. He turned his golden gaze toward his brother, his face calm but slightly dazed.

Lan Xichen knelt in front of him and reached forward, his touch gentle as he wrapped his arms around his brother in a protective embrace.

"Are you alright?" His voice was barely above a whisper, thick with emotion. "Did Wei Wuxian—did he do anything to you?"

Lan Wangji stiffened slightly at the unexpected closeness, then blinked at Lan Xichen with evident confusion.

"Xiongzhang?"

His golden eyes searched his brother’s face, but there was no recognition of the accusation. Nothing.

Lan Xichen’s breath hitched.

Does Wangji not even realize what’s been done to him?

His gaze flickered to the oversized robes, the way they barely clung to his brother’s smaller frame. He hesitated, then asked cautiously,

“Wangji… why are you wearing Wei Wuxian’s robe? And why is it… worn incorrectly?”

Lan Wangji lowered his gaze, finally looking at himself.

He stared at the large, dark fabric draped around him, the way it hung unevenly, as if someone had hurriedly put it on him. One sleeve was too long, the belt was not tied properly, and the fabric hung off his shoulder carelessly.

For a long moment, he simply stared.

Then, in the softest, most bewildered voice, he asked:

“I… wore the robes properly. Why… am I wearing these wrong now?”

His delicate brows furrowed.

“I… do not remember.”

Lan Xichen’s entire body tensed.

His fingers curled tight against his robes, his heart beating hard in his chest. His Wangji—his innocent Wangji—did not even remember?

His eyes darkened.

Lan Xichen did not need to hear anything else.

He immediately pulled Lan Wangji into his arms and held him tightly.

“Do not worry, Wangji.” His voice was firm yet trembling with restrained emotion. “Your brother is here. Your brother will always support you.”

Lan Wangji, still bewildered, merely stayed still in his embrace, his golden eyes blank with confusion.

But Lan Xichen had already made up his mind.

He glanced toward Wei Wuxian, standing outside the cave with a stunned expression.

You… took advantage of my Wangji’s innocence.

The weight of his realization settled heavily in his chest. Without hesitation, he removed his outer robe and draped it carefully over Lan Wangji, making sure he was properly covered, ensuring that no one else would see him in such a scandalous state.

Then, without another word, Lan Xichen stood, held Lan Wangji close to his chest, and took him out of the cave.

_________________

Outside the cave, the cold wind bit into wei wuxian bare skin, making him shiver. Jiang Cheng released him with a violent shove, then threw his own outer robe at him.

“Get dressed. Now.”

Wei Wuxian caught the robe on instinct but made no move to put it on, still desperate to explain.

“Jiang Cheng, listen to me—”

“Shut up!” Jiang Cheng’s face was dark with rage, but beneath it, there was something else—hurt.

“Do you have any idea what this looks like? What do you think Lan Xichen just saw?” Jiang Cheng jabbed a finger toward the cave. “Lan Wangji— dressed in your robe, looking completely disheveled. You— bare-chested, practically holding him!”

Wei Wuxian flinched at how it sounded.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

Wei Wuxian opened his mouth, but before he could form the words, a movement caught his attention.

Lan Xichen was walking out of the cave, his arm wrapped protectively around Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji was fully covered now, bundled in Lan Xichen’s outer robe. His expression was unreadable, but Wei Wuxian could see the confusion in his golden eyes. He still didn’t understand what was happening.

But Lan Xichen did.

And the way he looked at Wei Wuxian made his stomach twist painfully.

It was a look of betrayal.

Lan Xichen tightened his hold on his younger brother and stepped onto his sword.

“Wei-gongzi.” His voice was calm, too calm, but the sharp edge beneath it was unmistakable.

“You will not come near Wangji again.”

Wei Wuxian staggered, breath catching in his throat.

“Lan Xichen—wait— just let me—”

But the next moment, the sword lifted into the air, and Lan Wangji, still silent, disappeared into the sky before Wei Wuxian could even reach for him.

No.

Panic surged through him.

No, no, no, this isn’t— this isn’t how it’s supposed to go!

Wei Wuxian lunged forward as if to follow, but Jiang Cheng grabbed his arm again, his grip like iron.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Wei Wuxian jerked his arm away violently, but Jiang Cheng held on stubbornly.

“Let go, Jiang Cheng! I need to—”

“Need to what?!” Jiang Cheng snapped. “You think Lan Xichen is going to let you anywhere near his brother after seeing that?”

Wei Wuxian’s breath hitched.

He turned, desperate, trying to make Jiang Cheng understand.

“I swear to you, I didn’t— I would never—” His voice cracked, and he clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. “I didn’t do anything to him! I was just—he was cold—I had to—”

Jiang Cheng’s expression twisted.

“And yet,” he said, voice thick with disbelief, “that’s exactly what it looked like.”

Wei Wuxian shook his head violently, his heart pounding against his ribs.

No.

No, this couldn’t happen.

Lan Wangji was his. He had just—just last night, he had made up his mind. He would never let anyone take Lan Wangji away from him.

And now he was gone.

Wei Wuxian stared at the sky, watching as Lan Xichen’s sword disappeared into the clouds.

His stomach churned with dread.

Lan Wangji was gone.

And worse—Lan Xichen believed he had dishonored him.

Jiang Cheng’s voice pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts.

“Come back to Lotus Pier.”

Wei Wuxian didn’t respond.

Jiang Cheng sighed, dragging a hand down his face.

“You have no choice now.”

Wei Wuxian swallowed hard, his fingers tightening around the fabric of the robe Jiang Cheng had thrown at him.

A deep, gnawing sense of unease settled in his chest.

Lan Wangji was gone.

And for the first time in his life—Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure if he could get him back.

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian had never felt more trapped in his life.

The moment he and Jiang Cheng stepped foot inside the Cloud Recesses, Wei Wuxian had been met with cold glares and an immediate order of confinement.

"Wei-gongzi, you are not permitted to leave your room until Sect Leader Jiang and Madam Yu arrive."

Wei Wuxian had blinked, caught between shock and disbelief.

"What? What did you just say?" he asked, laughing nervously, certain he'd misheard.

The Lan disciple who had spoken did not so much as flinch. His face remained as cold as ice.

"You are to remain inside your quarters. Do not leave until further notice."

Wei Wuxian's stomach twisted.

"Wait, wait, wait," he said, raising his hands. "This must be some misunderstanding—"

"There is no misunderstanding," another disciple cut in, his tone firm and unyielding. "Hanguang-jun has been placed under medical evaluation. You are not to see him."

Wei Wuxian felt his heart stop.

"Medical evaluation? What do you mean?! Lan zhan is hurt? He—"

"He is not injured," the disciple replied sharply. "But his condition must be checked."

Wei Wuxian tried to move forward, but the disciples blocked his path.

"I just need to see him," he insisted, voice growing desperate. "Let me talk to him—"

"Wei Wuxian!"

Jiang Cheng’s sharp voice cut through the air, filled with irritation and anger.

Wei Wuxian turned to him, expression pleading.

"Jiang Cheng, tell them to let me see Lan Zhan! I didn’t do anything wrong! He’s probably confused—"

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

"You really don’t get it, do you?" he muttered under his breath. "Of course, you wouldn’t."

Wei Wuxian stiffened.

"Get what?"

Jiang Cheng gave him a long, pointed look.

Then, with an exasperated sigh, he dragged Wei Wuxian aside, away from the glaring Lan disciples.

Wei Wuxian allowed himself to be pulled along, still frazzled and desperate, unable to understand what was happening.

Jiang Cheng let go of his arm only once they were far enough. He pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated beyond belief.

Then he turned and gave Wei Wuxian a look that bordered on disbelief.

"Tell me," Jiang Cheng said flatly, arms still crossed, "what exactly do you think Lan Wangji is being checked for in the Healer’s Pavilion?"

Wei Wuxian blinked.

"For injuries?" he guessed. "I told you, I made sure he wasn’t hurt! I checked him myself!"

Jiang Cheng scoffed.

"Not for injuries, you idiot."

Wei Wuxian frowned, genuinely confused now.

"Then why—?"

"What the hell do you expect?!" Jiang Cheng suddenly snapped.

Wei Wuxian flinched at the sharpness in his voice.

Jiang Cheng’s eyes were burning with frustration, with something deeply accusatory in them.

Wei Wuxian felt his breath catch.

"What are you—?"

"You spent an entire night with an unwed Omega," Jiang Cheng bit out, his voice low and dangerous. "And not just any Omega—Lan Wangji. A Lan Sect disciple. And you were found in that—" He gestured wildly, looking disgusted. "—scandalous state!"

Wei Wuxian felt his stomach drop.

It was as if the air had been knocked out of his lungs.

"I—"

"You really don’t get it, do you?" Jiang Cheng continued, his voice filled with mocking disbelief. "You—an Alpha—spent the night alone with an unconscious Omega in a cave, and by morning, he was wearing your robe, disheveled, with you sitting half-naked next to him! You think anyone will believe nothing happened?!"

Wei Wuxian felt his entire face heat up.

"I— I didn’t—!"

"Doesn’t matter!" Jiang Cheng cut him off. "No one cares what you say! All anyone sees is an Omega dishonored by an Alpha. You ruined Lan Wangji, you idiot!"

Wei Wuxian felt his vision spin.

His hands were trembling now.

No.

No, no, this wasn’t happening.

"But I didn’t do anything!" he shouted, panic rising in his voice. "I— I would never do anything to Lan Zhan! I would never dishonor him—"

Jiang Cheng gave him a cold, pitying look.

"Your words mean nothing now, Wei Wuxian," he said bluntly. "You should know that better than anyone."

Wei Wuxian felt something inside him crack.

He had never felt so helpless.

It wasn’t just that no one believed him—it was that the entire world had already made up its mind.

And worse—Lan Wangji was suffering because of it.

His breathing grew shallow, hands clenching into fists.

"I have to see him," he whispered.

Jiang Cheng gave a humorless chuckle.

"You think Lan Xichen is going to let you anywhere near his brother after seeing you both like that?"

Wei Wuxian felt a sharp stab of frustration.

"I’ll explain—"

"Explain what?" Jiang Cheng challenged. "What will you say? That it was all an accident? That you only meant to keep him warm?"

Wei Wuxian opened his mouth, but Jiang Cheng didn’t let him speak.

"You think that matters?" Jiang Cheng said, his voice a sneer. "Tell me, Wei Wuxian—if you were in Lan Xichen’s place and you found Yanli in that state, with an Alpha sitting next to her like that, what would you do?"

Wei Wuxian’s blood ran cold.

His lips parted, but no words came out.

He imagined it.

Jiang Yanli, his beloved shijie, dressed in another man’s robes, waking up confused, unable to remember how she had even ended up in such a state.

The way Lan Wangji must have looked to Lan Xichen in that moment.

He suddenly felt sick.

Jiang Cheng huffed, as if he had just proved his point.

"Lan Wangji isn’t just any Omega," he muttered. "He's the Second Jade of Lan. His reputation is everything. And now, thanks to you, he's being dragged into the healer's pavilion to be checked like some— some—"

Wei Wuxian felt nauseous.

Because of him, Lan Wangji was being treated as if he had been… violated.

He stumbled backward, his head spinning.

Jiang Cheng exhaled sharply.

"You were reckless," he muttered, shaking his head. "You always are. But this time, Wuxian, you didn't just ruin yourself."

His gaze darkened.

"You ruined Lan Wangji too."

________________

Lan Xichen arrived at Cloud Recesses with Lan Wangji secured in his arms, his younger brother resting limply against his chest. Despite the chill in the morning air, a thin layer of sweat covered Lan Xichen’s brow. His hands trembled slightly as he tightened his hold on Wangji, unwilling to let go even as he stepped past the barrier into the safety of their home.

The moment he landed, Lan disciples hurried forward, their eyes widening at the sight before them. Lan Wangji—their Second Young Master—was wrapped in Lan Xichen’s outer robe, his small frame nearly swallowed by the thick fabric. His long hair was disheveled, his pale skin tinged pink from exhaustion, and worst of all—he wore Wei Wuxian’s inner robe, draped loosely over his form in a way that exposed his bare collarbone.

Lan Xichen ignored the murmurs and strode straight to the Healer’s Pavilion.

“Summon the physicians immediately,” he ordered, his voice sharp. “Have them check Wangji thoroughly. I want to know if anything—” He inhaled sharply, rage flickering in his usually composed expression. “—if anything improper was done to him.”

The attending disciples bowed quickly and hurried to follow his command. Two of them stepped forward to take Wangji from his arms, but Lan Xichen hesitated for a long moment before finally relinquishing his little brother. As soon as Wangji’s weight left his arms, an emptiness settled into his chest.

He clenched his fists. Wei Wuxian… if you have harmed him…

But he did not finish the thought. He turned on his heel and headed straight for the main hall to inform his elders.

---

The Lan Clan’s main hall was a serene space, designed to foster discipline and clear-headed discussion. White lanterns cast a soft glow over the pristine room, and the scent of sandalwood incense drifted through the air. But the tension inside was anything but serene.

Seated at the head was lan qiren, his normally composed expression shadowed with deep concern and rage . To his right sat lan wangji aunt , a graceful yet formidable woman who carried herself with quiet authority.

As soon as Lan Xichen stepped inside, Lan Qiren’s gaze snapped toward him like a blade.

“You’re back,” he said, his voice cold. “And where is Wangji?”

“I have sent him to the Healer’s Pavilion for a thorough examination,” Lan Xichen replied, his voice calm but heavy.

Lan Qiren’s lips thinned in disapproval. “So it’s as I suspected,” he said darkly. “Something disgraceful has happened.”

Lan Xichen hesitated, not wanting to confirm anything without proof, but his mind replayed the scandalous sight in that cave—Wei Wuxian, bare-chested, seated intimately close to Wangji on a small stone slab, while Wangji, dressed only in Wei Wuxian’s robe, had looked vulnerable and confused.

His hands curled into fists. “I don’t know for certain,” he admitted. “But what I saw was… improper.”

Madam Lan, who had been silent thus far, lifted her gaze to meet his. “Tell us everything,” she said, her voice gentle but firm.

Lan Xichen took a breath, organizing his thoughts. He recounted the entire scene, describing how he and Jiang Cheng had forced the cave door open, how they had found Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, the way Wei Wuxian had been shirtless, and how Lan Wangji had been dressed in Wei Wuxian’s inner robe—the sleeves hanging too loosely, exposing his delicate shoulders.

By the time he finished, Lan Qiren’s face had darkened with fury.

“Outrageous!” he snapped. “This is unacceptable! Wei Wuxian has gone too far! I warned Jiang Fengmian that his ward was reckless and improper, but I never thought he would bring shame upon Wangji like this!”

Lan Xichen remained silent, his mind troubled. He wanted to believe there was an explanation—after all, Wei Wuxian had always been brazen but not dishonorable. But the scene he had witnessed spoke for itself.

Lan Qiren turned toward his wife, his expression hard. “We must issue an immediate decree! Wei Wuxian is not allowed to set foot in Cloud Recesses again!”

Madam Lan sighed softly. “lao po,” she said, addressing Lan Qiren calmly. “I understand your concern, but we do not have all the facts.”

Lan Qiren scoffed. “The facts are clear ,Lan Xichen saw it himself!”

“Yes,” she acknowledged. “But he saw only the aftermath—not the events leading up to it.” She turned to Lan Xichen, her gaze steady. “Did you ask Wangji what happened?”

Lan Xichen hesitated. “No… he was confused when I found him. He did not seem to remember anything.”

Madam Lan nodded, her eyes gentle yet firm. “Then we must be careful before passing judgment.”

Lan Qiren’s frown deepened. “You would defend Wei Wuxian after what he has done?”

“I am not defending anyone,” she corrected. “But I have known Wei Wuxian since he was a child. I am close friends with his father, jiang fengman, and I do not believe his son would dishonor Wangji in such a manner.”

Lan Xichen inhaled sharply. He respected his aunt’s wisdom, but the image of Wei Wuxian and Wangji together in that cave was difficult to ignore.

“We cannot allow personal sentiments to cloud our judgment,” she said. “What we must do is act with caution and fairness.”

She turned her gaze to Lan Xichen. “You said Jiang Cheng was with you. Did he react in a similar manner?”

Lan Xichen nodded. “Yes. He was just as enraged as I was. He dragged Wei Wuxian away immediately.”

Madam lan expression remained unreadable. “Then this concerns both our clans,” he said. “The Jiang Clan must be notified.”

Lan Qiren nodded sharply. “Indeed! Jiang Fengmian must answer for his disciple’s actions.”

But Madam Lan shook her head. “No, not answer—discuss.”

She turned to Sect leader lan xichen, her eyes steady. “We should send an official invitation, not an accusation. Let the Jiang Sect Leader and his wife come here, and let us all discuss this matter together—as proper sects should.”

Lan xichen met her gaze, contemplating her words. Slowly, he nodded. “Very well,” he agreed. “We shall summon them. Once they arrive, we will decide how to proceed.”

Lan Xichen exhaled, tension still coiled in his chest.

Lan Qiren was clearly dissatisfied, but he did not protest further.

“Fine,” he muttered. “But mark my words—if Wei Wuxian has dishonored Wangji, there will be consequences.”

Lan Xichen pressed his lips together, saying nothing. Deep down, he hoped his aunt was right—that there was an explanation.

But until then, the air in Cloud Recesses remained heavy with uncertainty.

_______________

The arrival of the Jiang Clan at the Cloud Recesses was met with a mix of emotions. The usually serene and undisturbed sect was abuzz with hushed whispers as disciples discreetly discussed the purpose of this unexpected visit. News of the supposed "scandal" involving their Second Young Master and Wei Wuxian had spread through the inner circles of the sect, leading to speculation, concern, and no small amount of disapproval.

Jiang Fengmian, Madam Yu, and Jiang Yanli arrived at the main entrance, their expressions betraying their apprehension. Jiang Cheng was already waiting for them. His expression was stiff, clearly bracing for whatever was about to come.

They were received with utmost courtesy by Lan disciples, who escorted them to the guest quarters to freshen up before the meeting. Though polite, the rigid expressions of the Lan disciples made it clear that they were aware of the circumstances under which the Jiang Clan had been summoned. Jiang Yanli, ever the gentle presence, murmured her thanks as she gracefully followed her parents.

Jiang Fengmian remained calm, though his sharp eyes took in every detail of their treatment. Madam Yu, on the other hand, was far less patient. Her sharp gaze flickered over the silent disciples with mild irritation before she exhaled, controlling her temper for now.

The Jiang Clan had always been close allies of the Lan Clan, and despite the turbulent events of recent times, that alliance remained intact. However, the current situation was delicate, and tensions were bound to rise.

After a brief respite, they were led toward the Sect Leader’s chambers. As they entered the room, they were greeted by the sight of Lan Qiren, Lan Xichen and madam lan seated at a low table, their postures dignified and composed. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken words.

Jiang Fengmian inclined his head politely, and Madam Yu followed suit with a measured nod. Jiang Yanli, dressed in a soft lavender robe, bowed with impeccable grace.

Jiang Cheng’s expression was unreadable, though he was visibly tense. Wei Wuxian’s absence was noticed immediately.

They were served tea, the formalities observed with unwavering discipline, before madam lan finally broke the silence.

Madam lan spoke in an even, composed tone. “We have summoned you here today to discuss an issue that concerns both of our clans,” she began, her sharp gaze sweeping over them. “It involves your son, Wei Wuxian, and my son, Wangji.”

Madam Yu stiffened, her fingers curling around the tea cup. “What do you mean?”

Lan Xichen exchanged a glance with his uncle before answering, his tone carrying a careful neutrality. “A few hours ago, Wangji was found in a scandalous state with Wei-gongzi. I was the one who witnessed it myself.”

Jiang Fengmian’s eyebrows furrowed, and Madam Yu’s grip on the cup tightened.

Jiang Yanli’s expression flickered with confusion. “Scandalous?” she echoed, her voice hesitant.

Lan Xichen hesitated before answering. “I found Wangji and Wei-gongzi alone in the cave… Wei-gongzi had Wangji in his arms. Wangji’s robes were in disarray, and Wei-gongzi himself looked… distressed.”

Madam Yu scoffed instantly. “That is impossible. Wei Wuxian would never do something improper. He respects Omegas deeply.”

Jiang Cheng, who had been silent until now, cross his arms and said“Wei Wuxian wouldn’t—” He stopped himself, scowling.

Lan Qiren, who had remained silent, finally spoke, his voice laced with displeasure. “Regardless of intent, the situation itself is already disgraceful. We cannot allow something like this to stain the name of the Lan Clan.”

Jiang Fengmian remained calm, though his mind was racing. He knew his son—he had raised Wei Wuxian, watched him grow into a fiercely protective and loyal young man. Wei Wuxian would never harm Lan Wangji. If anything, he would protect him at all costs.

Before the discussion could continue, a knock at the door interrupted them. A Lan disciple entered, bowing respectfully before handing a sealed letter to the Lan xichen.

Everyone watched as the Lan Sect Leader broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. Silence stretched as he read through its contents, his eyes scanning the page before finally looking up.

“The letter is from the healers who examined Wangji,” he announced. “It states that Wangji is completely fine—there is nothing wrong happened to him.”

A collective exhale of relief filled the room. Jiang Yanli pressed a hand to her chest, smiling softly in gratitude. Madam Yu’s shoulders loosened slightly, and even Jiang Cheng’s frown seemed to lessen marginally.

However, Madam Yu was not done yet. She set her tea down and met madam lan gaze directly. “Since we have gathered here, it is time we discuss something far more important.”

Her words caught everyone’s attention, and the room quieted.

She straightened her posture, her voice steady. “It concerns Wangji.”

Lan Xichen frowned slightly. “What do you mean, Madam Yu?”

She looked at Madam Lan, her eyes filled with something unreadable. “Do you all remember the prophecy that was foretold at the time of Lan Wangji’s birth?”

At her words, a hush fell over the room.

Madam Lan’s face softened, sorrow flickering in her eyes. “How could I forget that day?”

A weight settled in the room as everyone recalled the incident that had shaken the entire Lan Clan.

It had happened after Lan Wangji’s three-month ceremony. The joyous occasion had taken a dark turn when the infant, barely a few months old, had suddenly stopped breathing.

Every physician who checked him had confirmed the worst—the child was gone.

The entire Lan Clan had fallen into grief. The cries of Lan wangji mother had filled the halls as she clutched her lifeless son. The news had spread rapidly, and mourners had gathered to bid farewell to the child who had been born with such promise, only to be taken too soon.

They had begun the funeral rites, ready to lay the child to rest.

And then—

A small, stubborn boy had broken through the crowd.

Wei Wuxian, barely a toddler himself, had wriggled free from his mother’s hold and rushed toward the lifeless baby. He had thrown himself onto the small body, clinging to him.

His childish voice had wailed, “No! Don’t take my doll away!”

His tiny hands had cupped the cold face, and with a sob, he had pressed a kiss to the baby’s cheek.

And in that instant—Lan Wangji had gasped, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath.

The entire sect had frozen in shock as the supposedly dead child burst into loud, healthy cries.

Madam Lan had collapsed, weeping as she clutched her revived son. Physicians had been at a loss to explain the miracle.

It was only later, when Cangse Sanren had brought Baosan Sanren, the wise immortal, that they had finally received an answer.

Baosan Sanren had touched the infant’s forehead and had seen a vision.

“The child has the purest soul I have ever seen,” she had murmured in wonder. “But it is also filled with an energy too powerful for a mortal body to contain.”

The news had been met with horror.

“What will happen to him?” Madam Lan had asked in desperation.

Baosan Sanren had spoken then of a terrible fate—Lan Wangji’s body would not be able to endure past his eighteenth birthday.

At those words, the room filled with a suffocating silence.

Baosan Sanren had, however, offered a single glimmer of hope.

“This child has a fated mate,” she had said, looking at the young Wei Wuxian. “I see a red thread connecting them. If they are together, the balance will remain.”

A prophecy had been spoken that day. That Wei Wuxian, who was born of dragon lineage, would one day become the strongest of all. That he would rule with unparalleled power. That he was the only one capable of protecting Lan Wangji.

Now, as Madam Yu finished recounting the prophecy, she turned to madam lan.

___________________

The air was thick with incense, the scent of sandalwood lingering like an unspoken prayer, as two women sat facing one another—a storm and a still lake.

Madam Yu, the formidable matriarch of the Yunmeng Jiang Clan, held herself with rigid authority, her violet robes pristine, her gaze sharp as tempered steel. Across from her sat Madam Lan, the renowned yet seldom-seen wife of Lan Qiren, draped in the signature pale blue of the Lan Clan. She was a woman of soft features, a delicate beauty that time and sorrow had worn thin, yet even now, she held herself with the elegance of one who had once been revered.

The atmosphere between them was heavy, not with hostility, but with the weight of unsaid words—words that, when spoken, would change everything.

With a deep breath, Madam Yu cast aside any hesitation. “Tell them.”

Madam Lan’s hands trembled as she called for the prophecy scroll before her. The parchment was ancient, the ink faded in places, yet the words remained hauntingly clear. Her voice, quiet but unwavering, carried across the chamber.

"Lan Wangji’s fate is tied by red thread and prophecy, bound to the one who walks the path of lost kings. Without this bond, before his eighteenth year comes to pass, his life shall fade like autumn leaves in the wind."

A heavy silence followed.

Madam Yu remained unmoved, her gaze steady, as everyone present let out quiet murmurs of disbelief.

“This prophecy…” jiang yanli spoke first, brows furrowed. “How can it be trusted? No one can predict the future with such certainty.”

Madam Lan’s fingers clutched the scroll tighter. “This was not an ordinary divination.” Her voice wavered, but the weight of her words held firm. “It was foretold by the Oracle of the Hidden Valley, the last of her kind, baosen sanren. She has never been wrong.”

Jiang cheng, ever the skeptic, scoffed. “And yet, here we are, with Lan Wangji alive past his childhood. Perhaps the prophecy was mistaken.”

Madam Lan shook her head, her sorrow-laden eyes locking onto him. “No. The reason he has survived thus far is because of the bond that was made.”

Madam Lan closed her eyes for a brief moment before continuing, her voice thick with emotion.

“Upon hearing of this prophecy, my dear friend Cangse Sanren and Ian wangji's mother made a decision. To protect their sons, they betrothed them the very day the prophecy was revealed.”

Gasps echoed in the chamber.

Jiang cheng eyes widened . “Betrothed? You mean to say that Lan Wangji was—”

“Yes.” Madam Lan lifted her chin, her hands trembling in her lap. “Cangse Sanren and
madam lan vowed to tie their fates together in an unbreakable bond. Their engagement was sealed in blood, witnessed by the Heavens.”

Disbelief rippled through the room.

Lan qiren whispered sadly . “ Even such a betrothal was made, the son of Cangse Sanren perished along with his parents! There is no one left to fulfill this destiny.”

Madam Lan’s face crumpled slightly, her grief evident. “I know,” she whispered. “That is why we have tried everything to break this curse—to find another way to save my son. But no matter what we do, the threads of fate remain unmoved.”

A heavy silence filled the chamber.

Madam Yu, who had been listening with an unreadable expression, finally spoke, her tone softer than expected. “You are wrong.”

Madam Lan looked up, confusion flickering in her eyes. “What?”

The room shifted.
Madam Yu stood, her posture exuding quiet authority, and took a deliberate step forward. “Lan Wangji can still be saved. Because his betrothed is still alive.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Lan qiren grumbled. “What nonsense is this?”

Madam Lan’s breath hitched. “That cannot be… The son of Cangse Sanren—”

“—did not die.”

All eyes snapped to Madam Yu.

Jiang Fengmian stiffened beside her, his expression unreadable. Madam Lan’s lips parted in silent shock, her fingers clenching around the fabric of her robe. The others sat frozen, waiting for her next words.

Madam Yu’s gaze swept across the room, sharp as a blade. “The child of Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze did not die that day. He lived. And he has been by our side all these years.”

Lan qiren’s lips curled in disbelief. “Do you expect us to believe such a baseless claim? That the heir to the lost Wei Kingdom still lives?”

Madam Yu’s next words were as cold as steel.

“Yes. Because that child… is Wei Wuxian.”

The room erupted.

.

She turned to Jiang Fengmian, who had remained silent throughout the chaos. Their eyes met—husband and wife, bound by the secret they had carried for years.

Jiang Fengmian exhaled, his shoulders tensing before he finally nodded. His voice, though softer than Madam Yu’s, carried undeniable weight.

“She speaks the truth.”

The room fell into stunned silence once more.
The air in the Lan Sect Leader’s chamber remained heavy with tension as Madam Yu’s declaration echoed in the room.

Wei Wuxian—the future ruler of the Wei Kingdom—was alive.

Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren sat in stunned silence, their gazes flickering between Jiang Fengmian, Madam Yu, and Jiang Yanli, who remained composed despite the weight of the revelation. The truth that Wei Wuxian was no mere commoner but an heir to a lost kingdom sent a ripple of shock through the Lans present.

Madam Lan pressed a trembling hand to her lips, her breath shallow. “He’s… He’s alive?”

Madam Yu nodded. “When Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze fell, my husband brought their son to Lotus Pier. To protect him, we raised him as our own. But his bloodline, his destiny… none of it changed.”
Lan Xichen, who had remained silent thus far, closed his eyes briefly as if attempting to absorb the revelation. “This means…” he began, exhaling slowly, “Wei Wuxian truly is the one fated to protect Wangji. He is the one fated for wangji.”

his voice carefully measured. “If this is true… then that means…”
Madam Yu scoffed. “That much is obvious, isn’t it? Look at what has already happened. Lan Wangji was found in a scandalous condition with Wei Wuxian. As if nature is itself trying to bring them together to balance the power flowing through them.Do you think that is a mere coincidence?”

Madam Lan hesitated before speaking. “But… but what if this was all just a moment of weakness? What if they—”

“Enough,” Madam Yu cut in. “Lan Wangji may be young, but his time is running out. The prophecy was clear—he must stay with wei wuxian to survive beyond his eighteenth birthday. You have one month left. What will you do? Wait for another miracle?”

Madam Lan flinched at the harsh truth in Madam Yu’s words. She turned to her husband with wide, uncertain eyes. “Qiren, Xichen… What should we do?”

Lan Xichen looked toward his uncle, seeking guidance, but Lan Qiren remained silent, his face unreadable.

Jiang Yanli, who had been silent all this time, finally spoke. “It is true that A-Xian may have… strong feelings for Second Young Master Lan. And if that is the case, then it is best to let fate run its course.”

Lan Qiren sighed deeply, rubbing his temple. “This is… not an easy decision.”

“It is the only decision,” Madam Yu corrected him. “Wei Wuxian has already begun his transformation. His dragon instincts are awakening. Lan Wangji is his fated mate, no one—not even you—will be able to separate them. If you try, the consequences will be worse.”

At those words, silence filled the room once more.

Everyone in the room was aware of the consequences of interfering with a dragon’s claim. If Wei Wuxian had, even unknowingly, recognized Lan Wangji as his mate, then preventing their union would only result in destruction.

Lan Xichen exhaled slowly before meeting his uncle’s gaze. “Uncle… I believe Madam Yu is right. There is no time to waste. If we wish to ensure Wangji’s survival, we must proceed with the wedding.”

Lan Qiren’s fingers tightened around his teacup, but after a long moment, he nodded stiffly. “Very well.”

Lan Xichen turned to Jiang Fengmian. “Sect Leader Jiang, if you have no objections, we shall prepare for the wedding.”

Jiang Fengmian smiled faintly. “No objections. Wei Wuxian may be mischievous, but his heart is good. He will protect Wangji with his life.”

“Then it is decided.”

Madam Lan inhaled sharply. Her hands trembled slightly in her lap, her emotions a swirl of relief, fear, and hope. Her precious Wangji would live. He would not be taken from her.

But then—

“What about Wei Wuxian?” Lan Xichen suddenly voiced the thought that had been lingering in the back of everyone’s minds.

Jiang Cheng, who had been unusually silent throughout the entire discussion, finally snapped. “Hah! That’s a good question! What about Wei Wuxian? Do you all think he will just accept this?”

The Lan elders stiffened at the remark.

Madam Yu rolled her eyes. “You think he won’t?”

Jiang Cheng scoffed. “You clearly don’t know my idiot brother. A marriage like this? He’d resist it on principle alone! And knowing him, he probably doesn’t even realize what he feels for Lan Wangji yet.”

Lan Xichen frowned slightly. “But… if he has already begun acting on his instincts, surely he must feel something.”

Jiang Cheng ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “That doesn’t mean he’ll be willing to get married! This is Wei Wuxian we’re talking about. Even if he does have feelings for Lan Wangji, he’s the kind of person who would rather die than admit it.”

The Lan elders exchanged uncertain glances.

Madam Yu sighed in irritation. “Then what do you propose we do?”

Jiang Cheng crossed his arms. “Simple. We tell him the truth. If he knows that his presence is the only thing keeping Lan Wangji alive, he won’t have a choice but to accept it.”

Jiang Yanli nodded. “A-Xian would never let anything happen to someone he cares about.”

Lan Xichen hesitated before nodding. “Very well. But we must be careful in how we tell him. If we push him too hard, he may resist out of sheer stubbornness.”

Jiang Cheng snorted. “That’s an understatement.”

Madam Yu stood from her seat, her violet robes swaying as she moved toward the door. “Enough talk. We have a wedding to plan.”

Lan Qiren pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. “This is going to be a disaster.”

Lan Xichen smiled faintly. “Perhaps… but at least Wangji will live.”
Madam Lan closed her eyes, silent tears slipping down her cheeks. The weight of grief and hope warred within her, but for the first time in years, there was something else—a light, fragile and tentative, but there.

Hope.

For the first time since the prophecy was spoken, there was a chance.

A chance for her son to live.

Madam Lan wiped away the silent tears trailing down her cheeks. She looked toward the heavens, murmuring a quiet prayer.

"Cangse Sanren… Wei Changze… If you are watching, your son is alive. And he will save my Wangji."

____________________

Wei Wuxian stretched his limbs as he stepped out of his secluded room, finally free after being confined under the excuse of 'rest.' He had been more than irritated, knowing the elders were up to something, but he had little patience to argue. The moment he was allowed out, his mind immediately went to Lan Wangji.

He needed to see him.

Wei Wuxian didn’t know why his chest felt tight at the thought of Lan Wangji alone in his room. The last time he saw him, the Omega had been confused and overwhelmed. Wei Wuxian had promised to be there for him, yet he had been locked away.

It didn’t matter anymore.

Determined, he walked through the halls of the Cloud Recesses, moving swiftly toward Lan Wangji’s residence. However, before he could take more than a few steps, a familiar voice called out to him.

“wei xiong! Wei xiong, wait!”

Wei Wuxian turned in time to see Nie Huaisang rushing toward him, breathless. His usually pristine robes were slightly disheveled, and his fan, often an accessory of elegance, was now clutched tightly in his hands.

Nie Huaisang rarely ran anywhere unless it was a matter of life and death. That alone made Wei Wuxian pause. “Huaisang? What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Nie Huaisang gasped for breath, leaning forward with his hands on his knees. “wei xiong! Have you—have you heard the latest news?”

Wei Wuxian frowned, shaking his head. “I don’t have time for gossip, Huaisang. I have more important things to do.”

Nie Huaisang’s expression turned scandalized. “More important? Wei xiong, nothing is more important than this!”

Wei Wuxian gave him an unimpressed look and started to walk past him. “If it’s about some ridiculous sect drama, count me out.”

Nie Huaisang grabbed his sleeve, stopping him. “It’s about Lan Wangji.”

That made Wei Wuxian freeze. Slowly, he turned back to face Nie Huaisang, his eyes narrowing. “What?”

Nie Huaisang straightened, his fan snapping open as he waved it dramatically. “As I was passing by the Lan Sect Leader’s chambers, I happened to overhear a most interesting conversation.” He leaned in closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Guess what? They’re marrying Lan Wangji off.”

Wei Wuxian’s blood ran cold. “...What?”

Nie Huaisang nodded rapidly. “In one month! To his childhood betrothed!”

For a moment, Wei Wuxian felt as if the world had gone silent.

Then, like a fire catching wind, something ignited in his chest—anger, disbelief, something feral.

They were marrying Lan Wangji off? To someone else?

His hands clenched into fists. How dare they?

Wei Wuxian didn’t waste another second. He turned on his heel and stormed toward the Lan Sect Leader’s chambers, his steps echoing sharply against the pristine white stone.

His mind raced.

How could they do this? How could they force Lan Wangji into a marriage like this?

Hadn’t they seen how weak Lan Wangji was? Hadn’t they understood that he needed care, not a forced political marriage?

Wei Wuxian’s heart pounded furiously. I won’t allow this. Even if I have to fight everyone here, I won’t let them do this to Lan Zhan.

He reached the doors to the Sect Leader’s chamber and pushed them open with force, stepping into the room with burning determination.

Inside, he found not just the Lan elders but also Jiang Fengmian, Madam Yu, Jiang Yanli, and Jiang Cheng.

The conversation immediately halted as all eyes turned to him.

Wei Wuxian took a deep breath and then, with unwavering resolve, dropped to his knees before Lan Qiren. He kowtowed, his voice clear and firm.

“I, Wei Wuxian, wish to marry Lan Wangji.”

The room went completely silent.

Wei Wuxian raised his head, his expression fierce. “You cannot marry him off to someone else. I won’t allow it.”

Jiang Cheng, who had been quietly standing beside their mother, let out a loud, exasperated groan. “Wei Wuxian, you idiot! What nonsense are you spouting now?!”

Wei Wuxian ignored him and turned back to Lan Qiren. “I ask you to break Lan Wangji’s childhood betrothal.”

Lan Qiren’s eyebrows twitched. “And why, pray tell, should we do that?”

Wei Wuxian’s jaw tightened. “Because…......Because I have already claimed and bed him.”

Gasps echoed through the chamber.

Madam Yu’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What?!”

Wei Wuxian didn’t falter. “In the cave. I—I claimed him. So you can’t let him marry someone else. It wouldn’t be right.”

The room remained eerily still.

Lan Xichen and Madam Lan exchanged glances, something unreadable in their expressions.

Madam Yu, on the other hand, let out an irritated sigh. “Oh, for the love of—enough with your nonsense, Wei Wuxian! If you want to break the betrothal, then let’s break it.”

Wei Wuxian, startled, blinked at her. “Wait… what?”

Madam Yu rolled her eyes. “Break it. His betrothal to you.”

Silence.

Wei Wuxian’s mind came to a screeching halt.

His betrothal to… him?

Dumbfounded, he turned to look at Jiang Yanli, his lips parting in disbelief. “Shijie?”

Jiang Yanli gave him a soft, almost amused smile. “A-Xian… Lan Wangji was never betrothed to anyone else.”

Wei Wuxian felt his heart stop.

Jiang Yanli continued, “Lan Wangji’s betrothal has always been to you.”

Wei Wuxian’s entire body locked up.

What.

Madam Yu crossed her arms, looking unimpressed. “So all that nonsense you were spouting—congratulations. You just agreed to your own wedding.”

Wei Wuxian could only gape at them, his mouth opening and closing as if trying to form words.

Jiang Cheng let out a frustrated groan, dragging a hand down his face. “I knew it. I knew he’d be too dumb to figure it out on his own.”

Lan Qiren, for his part, looked thoroughly unimpressed. “Considering the way you barged in here, I assume you are, in fact, willing to uphold the engagement, yes?”

Wei Wuxian stared at him, still unable to process the revelation. “I… I—”

Wei Wuxian stood frozen, his mind struggling to process Jiang Yanli’s words.

Lan Wangji was already betrothed to him?

The silence in the room stretched unbearably. His heart pounded against his ribs as his gaze darted between Madam Lan, Sect Leader Lan, and Jiang Fengmian. He searched for any sign that this was a joke, but their solemn expressions told him otherwise.

"You’re lying," Wei Wuxian finally managed, voice hoarse. "There’s no way—"

Jiang Yanli sighed and took a step closer, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "A-Xian, it’s true. The Lan and Wei clans arranged your betrothal at childhood ."

Wei Wuxian’s lips parted, but no sound came out. His mind reeled back to his childhood, to the fleeting memories of his mother playfully teasing him about marriage, to the whispers of the past he had never paid much attention to. But—how could he not have known?

Lan Qiren sniffed disapprovingly. "Had you been more attentive to your history, you would have known that this arrangement was made between your mother and Madam Lan, blessed by Baosan Sanren herself."

Wei Wuxian turned to Madam Lan, his eyes wide with confusion. "But why didn’t anyone tell me?"

Madam Lan regarded him with a soft gaze, her fingers tightening around the teacup in her hands. "We thought you were dead, Wei-gongzi. After your parents were lost, we grieved for you just as we grieved for our friend Cangse Sanren. Wangji’s betrothal to you was never canceled—it was merely… forgotten amidst the tragedies of war."

Wei Wuxian’s breath caught. His heart ached at the realization that, all this time, he had unknowingly been tied to Lan Wangji.
"But why now?" His voice was quieter this time, almost hesitant.

Madam Yu crossed her arms. "Because Lan Wangji’s eighteenth birthday is in 1 month, and if he is not married to his fated mate by then, he will die."

Wei Wuxian whipped around so fast he nearly lost his balance. "What?" His voice rose in panic. "What do you mean he will die?"

Jiang Fengmian sighed heavily. "Baosan Sanren foresaw it when Lan Wangji was a child. His body holds a rare, overwhelming purity of spiritual energy that a mortal frame cannot sustain past his eighteenth year. The only reason he has survived this long is because of you, Wei Wuxian."

Wei Wuxian took a shaky step back, his mind spinning. "Because of me?"

Madam Lan nodded. "Your dragon lineage balances energy naturally. When you touched him as a child, you stabilized his body. Your presence allows him to survive. But once he turns eighteen, the energy will spiral out of control unless his destined mate—" she looked at him meaningfully, "—claims him."

Wei Wuxian swallowed, his throat dry. "So… you’re saying that if I don’t marry Lan Zhan, he will—" He couldn’t finish the sentence.

Jiang Yanli nodded solemnly. "Yes, A-Xian. If you don’t marry him before his birthday, Lan Wangji won’t make it."

For the first time in his life, Wei Wuxian found himself utterly speechless. His heart thundered in his chest as he looked around the room, seeking some kind of loophole, some way out of this impossible situation. But there was none.

This wasn’t just about a political marriage or some ancient tradition. This was about Lan Wangji’s life.

A life that now rested entirely in his hands.

Lan Xichen smiled gently. “wei gonzi, you are not being forced into this. However, if you truly do not wish to marry Wangji, we will not hold you to it.”

Wei Wuxian felt like he had been struck by lightning.

He had stormed in here, ready to fight for Lan Wangji, determined to stop his wedding… only to find out the wedding had been to him all along?

And now, Lan Xichen was telling him he had a choice?

Wei Wuxian swallowed hard, his mind whirling.

Did he want to marry Lan Wangji?

He thought of Lan Wangji’s golden eyes, the warmth of his hands when he clung to him in the cave. He thought of the way Lan Wangji had looked at him with quiet trust in the cave, the way he had whispered his name.

A strange feeling bubbled up in his chest.

He realized he already had his answer.

Taking a deep breath, Wei Wuxian straightened his shoulders and met Lan Qiren’s gaze.

“Yes,” he said, his voice steady. “I will marry Lan Wangji.”

The room erupted into movement as the elders immediately began discussing preparations.

Jiang Cheng groaned. “Well, there’s no stopping this disaster now.”

Jiang Yanli smiled fondly. “Congratulations, A-Xian.”

Wei Wuxian exhaled, his heart still pounding.

He had no idea what he was getting himself into.

But one thing was certain—

He would never let Lan Wangji go.

_____

Wei Wuxian left the discussion in a daze. He barely remembered excusing himself, barely acknowledged Jiang Cheng’s irritated mutterings or the approving looks from the elders. His feet moved of their own accord, leading him away from the main hall, deeper into the corridors of the Cloud Recesses.

He needed to think.

Marry Lan Zhan?

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. No—if he were being honest with himself, the thought of Lan Wangji as his spouse made something deep within him stir with excitement. But this wasn’t just about marriage. It was about fate, duty, and a bond so deeply rooted in destiny that he hadn’t even known it existed until now.

Could he do it? Could he truly take on this responsibility?

And more importantly—what would Lan Wangji think?

Would he be angry? Would he resent him? Did Lan Wangji even know about this betrothal?

The thought made his stomach twist.

Before he knew it, he had arrived at the entrance to the healing quarters. A pair of Lan disciples stood outside, nodding politely as he approached.

"Wei-gongzi," one of them greeted. "Young Master Lan is resting, but you may enter."

Wei Wuxian hesitated only a moment before stepping inside.

The room was bathed in soft candlelight. The scent of medicinal herbs lingered in the air, mingling with the faint fragrance of sandalwood. And there, lying against a stack of white pillows, was Lan Wangji.

His eyes were closed, his long dark lashes casting delicate shadows over his cheeks. His pale skin was illuminated by the flickering light, making him look almost ethereal. His robes were loose, evidence that he had just been examined by the healers. He looked so peaceful—so heartbreakingly beautiful.

Wei Wuxian swallowed the lump in his throat.

Lan Wangji had suffered so much already. He had been attacked, left vulnerable and confused. And now, on top of everything else, he had to deal with an arranged marriage?

I should wake him up, Wei Wuxian thought, but his body refused to move. Instead, he found himself staring, memorizing every delicate feature of Lan Wangji’s face.

Lan Wangji shifted slightly, his breathing steady. His lips parted, and in the faintest whisper, he murmured, "Wei Ying…"

Wei Wuxian froze.

His heart slammed against his ribs. He wasn’t sure if Lan Wangji was dreaming or awake, but hearing his name spoken in such a soft, vulnerable voice sent a shiver down his spine.

Slowly, cautiously, Wei Wuxian reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair from Lan Wangji’s face. His fingers lingered for just a moment, tracing the curve of his cheek before he pulled away.

"You really are something else, aren’t you?" he whispered. "Even when you’re unconscious, you still manage to mess with my heart."

Lan Wangji didn’t respond, but a faint smile ghosted his lips, as if he had heard.

Wei Wuxian sighed, running a hand through his hair. He had no idea how he was going to explain this to Lan Wangji.

But one thing was certain.

No matter what happened—no matter what the future held—he would never let Lan Wangji die.

Even if it meant tying their fates together forever.

Even if it meant becoming his husband.

With one last lingering look, Wei Wuxian turned and quietly left the room.

Tomorrow, he would tell Lan Wangji everything.

And tomorrow, he would let lan wangji make his choice.

______________________

The first thing Lan Wangji became aware of was the familiar scent of sandalwood. His head felt lighter than before, and the dull ache in his limbs had lessened considerably. Slowly, his golden eyes fluttered open, greeted by the soft glow of morning light filtering through the windows of his own chamber in the Cloud Recesses.

For a moment, he lay still, his mind sluggishly piecing together the last thing he remembered—the damp, flickering firelight of a cave, the warmth of another presence beside him, the firm grasp of a strong hand supporting him.

Wei Ying…

The memory sent an unfamiliar warmth through his chest. Before he could dwell on it, a loud voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"He's awake! Shiyun, he's awake!"

Lan Wangji turned his head slightly, only to see Lan Weiqi and Lan Shiyun—his juniors and closest companions—practically falling over each other in their rush to reach his bedside.

"Young Master Lan!" Lan Shiyun breathed out in relief, his usually composed face lighting up with a smile. "How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?"

"Should we call the healer?" Lan Weiqi added, eyes wide with exaggerated concern. "Wait, maybe we should go get Sect Leader Lan—no, wait! We should get madam lan first!"

Lan Wangji blinked at them, momentarily overwhelmed by their chatter. He slowly pushed himself upright with their assistance, feeling a mild dizziness that soon faded.

"I am fine," he said softly.

"You gave us a scare, you know," Lan Weiqi muttered, still fussing over him. "Passing out in a cave, needing Wei Wuxian to take care of you—honestly, what were you even doing out there?"

Lan Wangji frowned slightly, trying to recall everything. He remembered feeling drained , Wei Wuxian’s concerned gaze, and then…

"Wei Ying…?" His voice was quieter than he intended.

Lan Weiqi and Lan Shiyun exchanged knowing looks before smirking.

"He left early this morning," Lan Shiyun said, his tone light but laced with something teasing. "I believe he had an urgent discussion with the elders."

Lan Wangji nodded absentmindedly, his mind still replaying fragments of the night before. Wei Wuxian had been close—closer than he had ever been. His robes, warm and slightly too large, had smelled of his scent, and…

Lan Wangji’s hands twitched at the memory.

Lan weiqi’s eyes gleamed mischievously. "Oh, by the way, Hanguang-jun, we heard some very interesting rumors this morning."

Lan Wangji raised a brow. "Rumors?"

Lan Weiqi dramatically sighed. "Yes! About a certain someone being found in a cave, dressed in someone else’s inner robe. Apparently, the robe was far too big and loosely draped in a most scandalous way."

Lan Wangji’s fingers involuntarily curled around the blanket covering his lap.

Lan Shiyun, more reserved but equally amused, added, "It was a rather shocking sight, or so we heard. A noble and righteous Lan disciple, appearing so disheveled in an alpha’s clothing… and not just anyone’s, but Wei Wuxian’s."

Lan Wangji stiffened slightly.

Lan Weiqi dramatically placed a hand over his heart. "Ah, how romantic! Trapped in a cave all night, sharing warmth, dressed in each other’s clothes… What exactly did you two do in there, Hanguang-jun?"

Lan Wangji felt his face grow warm. "Nothing improper."

Lan Weiqi wasn’t convinced. "Are you sure? Because if it were me stuck in a cave with someone like Wei Wuxian, I wouldn’t waste such an opportunity!"

Lan Wangji frowned. "Opportunity for what?"

Lan Weiqi sighed dreamily. "Hanguang-jun, you’re too innocent! Think about it! Wei Wuxian, with his dashing smile, his muscles—" he emphasized, dramatically fanning himself. "His bare chest, gleaming in the firelight! Ah, if only fate had been kinder, I would have had the chance to ogle at him myself!"

Lan Wangji’s heart skipped a beat.

The image immediately formed in his mind—Wei Wuxian, half-dressed, his toned muscles defined under the dim flickering glow of the cave fire, his dark hair cascading down his back, sweat glistening on his skin—

Lan Wangji’s face turned bright red.

"OH?" Lan Weiqi’s eyes sparkled in delight. "Hanguang-jun, why are you blushing?"

Lan Wangji, still caught in the treacherous spiral of his own thoughts, struggled to compose himself.

"It is improper to speak in such a manner," he said stiffly.

Lan Weiqi, unfazed, leaned in closer. "So you did see it? Was it that good to look at?"

Lan Wangji’s ears burned.

"I—" He clenched his hands and quickly changed the subject. "Help me dress."

Lan Shiyun, mercifully, took the hint and nudged Lan Jingyi. "Let’s not tease him too much, Weiqi. We still need to inform the sect elders that he has woken up."

Lan Weiqi huffed but didn’t push further. "Fine, fine. But I will get answers later!"

Lan Wangji, still flustered, focused on steadying his breath as they helped him prepare for the day.

But no matter how hard he tried to suppress it, the image of Wei Wuxian—shirtless, firelit, and entirely too appealing—refused to leave his mind.

_____________________

Lan Wangji had just finished getting ready when he heard a soft knock at his door. He had barely settled himself when the door slid open, revealing his aunt, Madam Lan, and his elder brother, Lan Xichen.

Both of them looked at him with warmth and affection. Madam Lan’s gentle gaze softened as she took in her youngest child, dressed neatly in his pristine white robes, his golden eyes still slightly dazed from waking up. Lan Xichen, always the picture of gentle elegance, smiled warmly before stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Lan Wangji.

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen murmured, pulling him close for a rare embrace. “You’ve worried us.”

Lan Wangji blinked, slightly stiff in his brother’s arms, but he soon relaxed and leaned into the comforting embrace. It wasn’t often that Lan Xichen initiated physical affection, but when he did, Lan Wangji cherished it deeply.

Madam Lan approached, placing a gentle hand on Lan Wangji’s back. " Weiqi, Shiyun, be good children and help us bring breakfast here.”

Lan Weiqi and Lan Shiyun immediately straightened up, nodding obediently.

“Yes, Madam Lan!” they chorused before hurrying out of the room.

Lan Wangji watched them go, still unsure of the situation. His aunt rarely spent extended time with him like this, but the warmth in her eyes put him at ease.

When the food was brought in, Lan Xichen guided Lan Wangji to sit between himself and their aunt. The three of them shared a meal together in a relaxed atmosphere, with Madam Lan and Lan Xichen both filling Lan Wangji’s plate with his favorite dishes.

“Eat more, Wangji,” Madam Lan said softly, placing another dumpling in his bowl.

Lan Wangji chewed silently, glancing between his brother and mother. They were both watching him with a rare fondness, and he felt a warmth spread through his chest.

Lan Xichen chuckled as he picked up another dish. “ Aunt has been saying that you’ve grown so much, but I still remember when you were just a little one clinging to her robes.”

Madam Lan smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair behind Lan Wangji’s ear. “It feels like just yesterday when you were learning to walk, and now, you’ve already reached a marriageable age.”

Lan Wangji paused, his chopsticks stilling. He swallowed his bite of food and looked at her curiously.

“Marriageable… age?” he echoed.

Madam Lan nodded and took his hand gently, her touch warm and soothing. “Yes, my dear. We wanted to talk to you about something important.”

Lan Wangji set his chopsticks down as a faint sense of unease settled in his chest. He looked toward Lan Xichen for clarification, but his brother simply smiled and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Wangji, we’ve made a decision regarding your future,” Lan Xichen said softly.

Madam Lan guided Lan Wangji to his bed and sat beside him. Lan Xichen sat on his other side, effectively surrounding him in their warmth.

Madam Lan gently pulled him close, letting his head rest against her chest. She kissed his forehead with a rare display of affection. “You have grown so quickly, my child. It feels as if I only had you in my arms yesterday, and now, it’s already time to send you off.”

Lan Wangji stiffened slightly. “Send me off…?”

Madam Lan smiled softly and brushed his hair away from his face. “Your marriage has been decided.”

Lan Wangji sat up straight, confusion clouding his golden eyes.

“…Marriage?” His voice was quiet, uncertain.

Lan Xichen took Lan Wangji’s hand, squeezing it gently. “Yes, Wangji. You are to be married in one month.”

For a moment, Lan Wangji simply stared at them, as if trying to comprehend their words.

Then, panic set in.

He shook his head. “No.” His voice was quiet at first, but firm. “I do not want to marry.”

Madam Lan and Lan Xichen exchanged looks, as if they had been expecting this reaction.

Lan Wangji, usually composed and obedient, suddenly felt an overwhelming surge of emotion. His grip tightened on Lan Xichen’s sleeve. “I do not want to leave,” he said again, his voice trembling slightly. “I do not want to leave you.”

Madam Lan’s heart clenched at the sight of her son’s teary eyes. She cupped his face in her hands, stroking his cheeks gently. “Wangji, my love, all Omegas must marry one day.”

Lan Wangji shook his head again, more adamantly this time. His lips pressed into a thin line as he fought against the growing lump in his throat. “I will not marry.”

Lan Xichen sighed softly, pulling Lan Wangji into his embrace. His younger brother, so rarely emotional, was clinging onto him like a lost child. He gently rubbed soothing circles on Lan Wangji’s back.

“At least listen to the name of your betrothed first,” Lan Xichen murmured.

Lan Wangji sniffled, his grip tightening on Lan Xichen’s robes. “…Who?”

Lan Xichen hesitated for only a second before answering, “Wei Wuxian.”

The reaction was immediate.

Lan Wangji froze.
Wei Ying…

His intended mate was Wei Ying?

The tension in his body melted into something else entirely—something warm, something flustered. His face turned a deep shade of red, his grip loosening as his breath hitched.

Madam Lan chuckled at his reaction. “Oh my,” she teased. “Even now, after hearing your groom’s name, do you still not wish to marry?”

Lan Wangji’s face burned. He turned his head, pressing his face into Lan Xichen’s chest as if trying to hide. His next words were muffled but still audible.
After a long moment of silence, a muffled voice came from where he was pressed against Lan Xichen’s robes.

“…Wei Ying is good,” he whispered shyly.

Madam Lan’s smile widened. “Oh?”

Lan Wangji hesitated again before mumbling, “I can marry him.”

A burst of warmth filled both Madam Lan and Lan Xichen’s hearts at his innocent reaction.

“

Lan Xichen’s chest shook with silent laughter, while Madam Lan smiled fondly.

“But,” Lan Wangji continued, peeking up at them hesitantly. “I will not go with him anywhere.”

Madam Lan blinked. “Oh?”

Lan Wangji’s lips pursed as he mumbled, “I do not want to leave. Wei Ying should come stay in the Lan Clan.”

Silence stretched for a moment before a voice echoed through the room.

Lan Wangji turned his head to see his uncle, Lan qiren, standing in the doorway, amusement shining in his usually stern eyes.

Lan Wangji immediately left his brother’s arms and hurried to his uncle, wrapping his arms around his forearm in a rare show of affection. “Shifu…”

Lan qiren smiled again with affection, patting his son’s back. “You do not need to worry, Wangji,” he said, his tone teasing. “We will make sure Wei Wuxian does not leave the Lan Clan after the marriage.”

Lan Wangji hummed in agreement, completely missing the way his family shared amused glances.

Madam Lan chuckled, pressing a hand to her lips. “Oh, my precious son,” she mused. “I wonder who will truly be the one unable to leave whom after this marriage.”

Lan Xichen smiled knowingly. “I think we all already know the answer.”
Lan Xichen and Madam Lan exchanged fond glances, knowing very well that once the marriage took place, it would be Lan Wangji who would have to leave Cloud Recesses—because Wei Wuxian was the future ruler of the Wei Kingdom. As his mate, Lan Wangji would naturally follow him wherever he went.

But for now, they let their innocent Wangji believe what he wanted.

Madam Lan smiled, stroking her son’s hair. “Wangji, would you like to prepare anything for the wedding?”

Lan Wangji hesitated, his mind racing. He hadn’t thought about it before, but now that it was happening…

“I…” He looked down shyly. “I want to give Wei Ying a gift.”

Lan Xichen’s smile grew. “That is a wonderful idea. Do you have something in mind?”

Lan Wangji thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yes.”

He didn’t say what it was, but his family could see the determination in his eyes.

Madam Lan and Lan Xichen exchanged a knowing glance, happy to see him slowly embracing the idea of the wedding.

Lan Wangji was still nervous, but deep inside, a small part of him felt… excited.

A few weeks from now, he would be married to Wei Ying.

And that thought alone made his heart race.

And just like that, the once-panicked Omega now sat comfortably in his family embrace, completely unaware of the storm his family was trying to protect him from by merging his future with Wei Wuxian.

Chapter Text

The moon hung high over the Cloud Recesses, casting a silver glow over the pristine white walls and sweeping rooftops. The entire sect had long since settled into the stillness of the night, but a shadow moved swiftly through the darkness, barely making a sound.

Wei Wuxian crouched near the edge of a familiar courtyard, his sharp eyes locked onto the slightly open window of Lan Wangji’s room. A mischievous grin spread across his lips.

“Lan Zhan, are you asleep?”

There was no answer.

Wei Wuxian leaned closer, bracing himself on the windowsill. With practiced ease, he hoisted himself up and slid through the narrow opening, landing gracefully inside the dimly lit room.

Lan Wangji was sitting at his desk, his long fingers delicately holding a brush as he worked on a scroll. His back was straight, his pristine white robes barely disturbed as he paused mid-stroke. His golden eyes lifted slightly, meeting Wei Wuxian’s with quiet surprise.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian whispered, stepping closer. “Missed me?”

Lan Wangji blinked slowly, setting his brush down with practiced grace. “…Why are you here?”

Wei Wuxian grinned. “What? A future husband can’t visit his betrothed in the middle of the night?”

Lan Wangji’s fingers twitched slightly at the word husband, but he said nothing.

Wei Wuxian took another step closer, tilting his head. “Lan Zhan, did you hear the news?”

Lan Wangji remained still, but the faintest pink dusted his ears. Wei Wuxian didn’t miss it.

“You did, didn’t you?” Wei Wuxian’s grin widened. “So, tell me, did you agree to this?”

Lan Wangji lowered his gaze for a moment before nodding shyly.

Wei Wuxian’s breath caught. He had expected an answer—maybe even a small ‘mn’—but seeing Lan Wangji nod so softly, so willingly… it did something to him.
Lan Wangji stood a few feet away, his pale robes bathed in moonlight, his expression unreadable. The calmness that surrounded him was in stark contrast to Wei Wuxian’s growing anxiety.

Taking a deep breath, Wei Wuxian turned to face him, his voice uncharacteristically uncertain.

“Lan Zhan…” He hesitated, then forced himself to continue. “Why did you agree to this marriage?”

Lan Wangji’s gaze remained steady, his golden eyes reflecting the flickering lanterns that lined the courtyard. He didn’t speak immediately, and the silence only made Wei Wuxian more restless.

Not knowing how to handle the tension, Wei Wuxian let out a nervous laugh. “Is it because of what happened in the cave?” he asked, his voice rising slightly.

Lan Wangji’s brow furrowed slightly, but before he could say anything, Wei Wuxian pressed on.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” he said hurriedly. “If it’s because you think I did something to you back there, then—then you’re mistaken! I swear on my life, Lan Zhan, I didn’t do anything! I wouldn’t even think about taking advantage of you!”

Wei Wuxian’s hands flailed as he spoke, his words tumbling over one another in his desperation to explain. “I—I know we were alone in that cave, and you weren’t feeling well, and maybe things were a little—” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “No! That’s not the point! The point is, I would never, ever do something like that to you. You have to believe me.”

His heart pounded in his chest as he looked at Lan Wangji, waiting for a reaction.

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then, in a swift motion, Lan Wangji reached out and grasped the sleeve of Wei Wuxian’s robe, stopping his frantic pacing.

Wei Wuxian stiffened at the sudden touch. His eyes widened as Lan Wangji gently pulled him closer, his grip firm yet unthreatening. It wasn’t like Lan Wangji to initiate physical contact—he was always careful, always reserved. But right now, there was something different in the way he looked at Wei Wuxian.

Steady. Sure. Unwavering.

Lan Wangji’s fingers curled slightly around the fabric of Wei Wuxian’s sleeve as he lifted his gaze. His golden eyes locked onto Wei Wuxian’s, quiet but filled with something unspoken.

“I do not know my feelings,” Lan Wangji admitted, his voice soft yet carrying an undeniable weight. “But I know one thing.”

Wei Wuxian swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “What’s that?”

Lan Wangji’s fingers tightened slightly around Wei Wuxian’s sleeve, anchoring him in place.

“I trust you,” Lan Wangji said, his voice steady. “More than I trust myself.”

Wei Wuxian felt his breath hitch.

Lan Wangji continued, his eyes never leaving Wei Wuxian’s. “I know you would never wrong me.”

The words settled heavily between them, sinking deep into Wei Wuxian’s heart. He had expected doubt, hesitation—anything but this unwavering trust.

For a moment, he was at a complete loss for words.

He had never thought of himself as someone worthy of this level of trust, especially not from someone like Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian had spent his life being reckless, teasing, always toeing the line between right and wrong. But Lan Wangji—Lan Wangji had seen past all of that.

Wei Wuxian’s lips parted slightly, his throat tight with emotions he couldn’t quite name. He tried to speak, to say something lighthearted, to break the heavy silence between them, but nothing came out.

Lan Wangji’s trust was absolute.

Unshakable.

And for once, Wei Wuxian didn’t know what to do with it.

He let out a breathy laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Lan Zhan, you really are something else, you know that?”

Lan Wangji remained silent, but his grip on Wei Wuxian’s sleeve didn’t loosen.

Wei Wuxian exhaled, his usual playful mask slipping slightly. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

Lan Wangji simply held his gaze. “Then say nothing.”

Wei Wuxian huffed, shaking his head. “You make it sound so easy.”

Lan Wangji’s lips parted slightly, as if to respond, but in the end, he simply held onto Wei Wuxian’s sleeve a moment longer before finally releasing it. The warmth of his touch lingered even as the fabric slipped from his grasp.

A quiet understanding passed between them, one that words couldn’t quite capture.

He hadn’t even planned on teasing him too much, but now? How could he resist?

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian whispered, leaning forward with a wicked glint in his eyes. “Are you really willing to marry me? Did your esteemed Lan elders force you into this, or did you secretly want it all along?”

Lan Wangji’s grip tightened on his sleeve. “No one forced me.”

Wei Wuxian stilled, caught off guard by the quiet certainty in his voice.

Lan Wangji’s gaze met his, steady and unwavering. “I agreed.”

For the first time that night, Wei Wuxian’s playful smirk faltered.

He agreed? Just like that? No hesitation?

Wei Wuxian felt something tighten in his chest—something warm, something dangerous.

He quickly covered it up with a smirk. “Well, since you agreed, I should at least give you a proper engagement gift, right?”

From the folds of his robes, Wei Wuxian pulled out a small pendant—a finely crafted silver dragon curled around a red gemstone, its body intricate and delicate, as if it could spring to life at any moment.

Lan Wangji’s eyes widened slightly as Wei Wuxian held it up.

“This,” Wei Wuxian murmured, his voice suddenly softer, “belonged to my mother.”

Lan Wangji looked at him in surprise.

Wei Wuxian turned the pendant over in his fingers, his expression thoughtful. “My mother gave this to me before she… well, before she left. She said it was a protective charm.”

He chuckled, but the sound was more wistful than mischievous. “I used to hold onto it a lot when I was a kid. But now, I want you to have it.”

Lan Wangji’s fingers twitched, as if hesitating to take something so precious. “I cannot—”

“Ah, ah!” Wei Wuxian interrupted, wagging a finger. “No refusing. If we’re going to be married, you should have something from me, right?”

Lan Wangji lowered his gaze. After a moment of hesitation, he nodded.

Wei Wuxian’s heart skipped a beat.

He nodded again.

He was accepting it.

His normally impassive Lan Zhan was standing there, his ears flushed, his expression unreadable but unmistakably touched.

Wei Wuxian suddenly felt an odd warmth spreading through his chest.

“Here, let me put it on for you.”

He stepped forward, reaching around to fasten the chain at the nape of Lan Wangji’s neck.

Lan Wangji held perfectly still, his breath shallow.

Wei Wuxian’s fingers brushed against his skin as he adjusted the pendant.

Soft.

Warm.

Wei Wuxian swallowed.

Lan Wangji wasn’t moving, wasn’t saying a word. But the slight tremor in his breath, the faintest hint of tension in his shoulders—it was enough to make Wei Wuxian’s own pulse quicken.

The pendant sat perfectly against the white of Lan Wangji’s robes, the red gemstone resting just above his heart.

“There,” Wei Wuxian murmured. “Looks good on you.”

Lan Wangji didn’t respond.

Wei Wuxian tilted his head, amused. “Lan Zhan, are you blushing?”

Lan Wangji’s ears were red.

Wei Wuxian’s grin widened. “You are blushing!”

Lan Wangji turned his head slightly, as if trying to compose himself. “Wei Ying…”

Something about the way he said his name—so quiet, so careful—made Wei Wuxian’s throat go dry.

A sudden urge gripped him—something reckless, something warm, something that had been building inside him for months.

Without thinking, Wei Wuxian leaned in.

A soft brush of lips against Lan Wangji’s cheek.

Lan Wangji froze.

Wei Wuxian froze too.

…Oh.

Oh, he actually did that.

His lips tingled where they had touched Lan Wangji’s skin, the warmth of it still lingering.

Lan Wangji’s golden eyes widened—just the slightest fraction, but it was enough.

Wei Wuxian pulled back slowly, his heart hammering in his chest.

Lan Wangji still wasn’t moving.

The room was silent.

Then—ever so faintly—Lan Wangji’s ears turned redder.

Wei Wuxian stared.

Then, unable to stop himself, he grinned.

“Well,” he said, stepping back. “That was nice.”

Lan Wangji blinked, still processing.

Wei Wuxian chuckled. “I should go before I do something worse.”

He turned toward the window, but at the last second, he glanced back.

Lan Wangji was still standing there, still frozen, still holding the pendant against his chest as if he wasn’t sure it was real.

Wei Wuxian smirked.

With a wink, he murmured, “Goodnight, fiancé.”

And with that, he slipped out the window and disappeared into the night.

Behind him, Lan Wangji stared after him for a long, long time—one hand on the pendant, the other resting lightly against his cheek.

His fingers trembled.

And when he finally exhaled, it was with undeniable longing.

________________________

Wen Xu stood in the shadows of Cloud Recesses, disguised in the form of Jin Zixuan. His golden robes blended seamlessly with the surrounding elegance of the Lan Sect, allowing him to move unnoticed. He had arrived with a singular purpose—to retrieve Lan Wangji for his father, Wen Ruohan, and to eliminate Wei Wuxian before the marriage could solidify a bond too dangerous for the Wen Clan to ignore.

And yet…

His gaze had been fixed on Lan Wangji for far too long.

There, under the shade of a cherry blossom tree, the young omega sat with an air of quiet serenity. His delicate hands rested against the soft fur of a white rabbit nestled in his lap. A small kitten curled beside him, nuzzling against his robes. So unaware. So pure. So untouched by the filth of the world.

Wen Xu's jaw clenched, and something unfamiliar stirred within him. It wasn’t just the mission anymore.

Lan Wangji was exquisite.

His skin was porcelain smooth, his long dark lashes casting faint shadows on his cheeks. His lips, slightly parted as he hummed softly to the animals, were the same pale pink as the flowers that drifted down from the trees. Even in simple white robes, he shone in a way that made Wen Xu's stomach twist.

How could a creature like this exist? Something so utterly flawless, so innocent?
he stood hidden among the trees, his gaze fixed on the delicate figure of Lan Wangji, he felt something he had never experienced before.

An unfamiliar hunger.

Lan Wangji sat under a gnarled cherry blossom tree, his slender fingers lightly stroking the fur of a small white kitten nestled in his lap. His long black hair was unbound, cascading over his back in a silken waterfall, catching the sunlight.

Wen Xu had never paid much attention to beauty. He had never been the type to be enthralled by appearances, finding those who did to be foolish and weak. But now, his fingers clenched into fists as he imagined what it would feel like to grasp that silken hair, to wrap it around his hand and pull—

He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to step back deeper into the shadows.

What is this?

Wen Xu was no fool—he knew beauty. He had seen omegas of noble blood, had watched them flaunt their delicate features and soft voices. But none had ever stirred anything in him. He had never been like Wen Chao, who indulged in every sinful pleasure available to him. Wen Xu had always been disciplined, sharp, focused on his father’s ambitions rather than fleeting desires.

And yet… Lan Wangji.

He was made to be worshipped. Made to be defiled.

The thought struck Wen Xu like lightning, and his fingers twitched against his sleeve. How would Lan Wangji look, not in pristine white robes, but in silk torn from his body? How would his voice sound, not in quiet hums, but in broken cries?

Wen Xu swallowed hard, a slow smirk curling on his lips. He could have him.

His father had commanded that Lan Wangji be brought to him untouched, a pure omega whose body with pure spiritual energy could be used to secure their rule. But what if Wen Xu took him first? What if he were the one to mark that perfect skin, to claim what no one else had ever dared to touch?

Would Wei Wuxian still want him then? Would any clan still treasure a defiled omega?

Wen Xu’s chest rose and fell in anticipation. Yes. This was better. This was perfect. His father sought control, but Wen Xu… he wanted to break Lan Wangji. To shatter that innocent gaze and watch the horror dawn in those golden eyes.

Lan Wangji shifted, his long lashes fluttering as he lifted his head to look toward the sky. A few petals landed in his dark hair, their soft pink standing out against the ink-black strands.
He now find himself unable to think beyond the image of Lan Wangji’s delicate frame pinned beneath him, his icy composure shattered, his lips parted in broken cries—

Wen Xu’s breath came quicker.

Disgusting.

He had never been weak like this before. He had never looked at any omega twice. He had never cared for their soft gazes, their perfume-scented presence, their desperate need to be protected. Omegas had always been tools—assets to be traded for alliances or pawns to be used. Nothing more.

Then why…

Why was Lan Wangji different?

Wen Xu’s eyes darkened as he observed the young omega brush a strand of hair behind his ear, his fair skin catching the golden glow of the afternoon sun. There was something infuriatingly untouched about him, something that made Wen Xu’s teeth grind in frustration. He was an omega, but he carried himself with the grace of a noble, the discipline of a warrior. He did not bow his head. He did not flutter his lashes and seek protection. He moved with quiet confidence, a serene presence unlike any Wen Xu had encountered before.

And it made him want to ruin him.

The thought struck him like lightning, sending a shiver of pleasure down his spine.

Wen Xu could already imagine how beautiful Lan Wangji would look with his hair disheveled, his pristine robes torn, his icy composure cracked apart. He would make a fine plaything, struggling at first, but eventually, Wen Xu would break him. He would carve his name into that flawless body, leaving bruises and marks that would never fade.

His father’s plan was foolish. He had no interest in using Lan Wangji as some blood sacrifice. What use was power if he couldn’t take what he truly wanted?

No one would have to know.

He would take Lan Wangji for himself before his father could use him. The thought of his father’s fury at losing his perfect, untouched omega sent a thrill through Wen Xu. Let the old man rage—he had never cared for Wen Xu’s desires before, had he? This would be his first act of true defiance, and it would be delicious.

Wen Xu inhaled sharply. Mine.

The word echoed in his mind, unbidden.

He clenched his fists. This was dangerous. He had never cared for an omega before, never looked at one with need burning through his veins. His mission had been clear—retrieve Lan Wangji, kill Wei Wuxian, and leave.

But now, he had a new plan.

Forget Wei Wuxian. Let the fool come to him. Wen Xu would let him see what had become of his precious omega—a shattered doll in Wen Xu’s hands.

His smirk widened.

He would take Lan Wangji soon.

And when he did, not even the heavens would be able to undo what he had done.

A sneer twisted Wen Xu’s lips as he thought of the infamous Alpha who had somehow survived all of his father’s attempts at elimination. Wei Wuxian, the so-called son of the jiang clan, had grown into a formidable force. And worst of all, he had set his sights on Lan Wangji.

Wen Xu had heard the rumors, seen the stolen glances between them. It enraged him. Wei Wuxian did not deserve Lan Wangji. He was brash, wild, reckless. He did not know how to handle something as rare and exquisite as Lan Wangji. He would coddle him, treasure him, keep him safe.

And that was unacceptable.

Lan Wangji was meant to be owned, meant to be conquered, meant to be—

A sharp growl rumbled in Wen Xu’s throat, surprising even himself. He was losing control, his instincts demanding he act now. But no. He needed a plan. He could not simply take Lan Wangji by force—not yet.

He would wait.

He would bide his time until an opportunity presented itself.

Perhaps he would let Wei Wuxian believe he had won, let him take Lan Wangji’s hand in marriage. Wen Xu almost smirked at the thought. Let the arrogant Alpha feel secure, let him believe Lan Wangji belonged to him.

And then, when he least expected it, Wen Xu would strike.

And when that moment came…

Lan Wangji would know true submission.

Wen Xu licked his lips, his eyes gleaming with dark promise.

It was only a matter of time.

Wen Xu stayed in the shadows, watching as Lan Wangji gently picked up the kitten and cradled it in his arms. The small creature purred, rubbing its face against Lan Wangji’s chin. The sight was almost absurd.

An omega of his status, the precious second son of the Lan Clan, pampering a kitten like some delicate maiden?

Wen Xu should have sneered. He should have felt disgusted by the softness of the scene.

Instead, his fingers twitched. He wanted to be the one Lan Wangji held so gently. He wanted those delicate fingers digging into his skin—not with tenderness, but with desperation. With fear.

He could already picture it. Lan Wangji trembling beneath him, his pristine robes in tatters, his voice hoarse from begging—

Wen Xu clenched his jaw, his breathing harsh.

This is dangerous.

he was coming undone over a single omega.

Lan Wangji shifted slightly, his gaze drifting toward the trees. Wen Xu froze, every muscle going rigid. For a moment, he thought he had been caught, but Lan Wangji merely blinked, his expression unreadable before he returned his attention to the kitten.

So oblivious. So unaware of the predator lurking just beyond his sight.

Wen Xu smirked.

Oh, you are too perfect.

He had to have him.

____________________

The days after Wen Xu first laid eyes on Lan Wangji passed in a blur of obsession. His mind was consumed with the omega’s ethereal beauty, the delicate innocence that made him crave to possess and ruin it. Wen Xu, who had never desired anyone in such a way before, found himself watching Lan Wangji whenever he had the chance—hiding in the shadows, carefully observing the omega’s every movement, every expression, and every fleeting moment of vulnerability.

He remained cautious, always careful to keep his presence hidden, particularly when Wei Wuxian was nearby. The very sight of Wei Wuxian made Wen Xu’s blood boil with rage. The way the arrogant alpha smiled at Lan Wangji, the way he stood so close to him, the way he touched him—casually, possessively—it was infuriating. Wen Xu clenched his fists every time he saw it, his nails digging into his palms so hard that it almost drew blood.

If he could, he would have slit Wei Wuxian’s throat right then and there. But he was no fool. He knew he could not act recklessly. Wei Wuxian was too perceptive. If he noticed Wen Xu lurking, he would immediately grow suspicious.

And so, Wen Xu kept his distance when Wei Wuxian was around, lurking only when Lan Wangji was alone.

Today, his patience bore fruit.

Lan Wangji stood alone near the training grounds, a bow in his hands, attempting to practice archery. Wen Xu smirked, knowing that archery was the one thing Lan Wangji was not particularly skilled at. Even a flawless being like him had weaknesses. Wen Xu adjusted his robes, made sure his disguise as Jin Zixuan was flawless, and strode forward with an air of casual confidence.

“ Wangji,” he called smoothly, approaching the omega with a small smile.

Lan Wangji turned, his golden eyes meeting his. He nodded politely. “Jin Zixuan.”

Wen Xu concealed the dark hunger that simmered beneath his gaze. He had long since perfected the act of behaving like Jin Zixuan. He spoke as the Jin heir would, held himself with the same noble arrogance. No one suspected him.

“I see you’re practicing archery again,” Wen Xu said, watching as Lan Wangji nocked an arrow onto the bowstring. “It is rare to see something you struggle with.”

Lan Wangji lowered his bow slightly. “Mn,” he acknowledged.

“I can help you,” Wen Xu offered smoothly. “Archery requires precision, but also guidance. Allow me.”

He stepped closer, slowly, carefully. His fingers itched to reach out, to touch Lan Wangji, to feel his softness, his warmth. But he knew he had to be patient. If he made any wrong move, Lan Wangji would recoil. He had to make his touches seem accidental, natural.

Lan Wangji, oblivious to the dark intent hidden behind the Jin heir’s familiar face, nodded. “Thank you.”

Wen Xu smirked inwardly and picked up an arrow. “Here,” he said, holding it out to Lan Wangji.

The moment their fingers brushed, Lan Wangji immediately withdrew his hand as if burned. Wen Xu felt a rush of irritation but quickly covered it up with an easy smile.

“There is no need to be so formal,” he said, his tone light, feigning innocence. “It was just an accident.”

Lan Wangji hesitated before nodding, returning his attention to his bow. As he lifted it again, Wen Xu allowed his eyes to trail over the omega’s figure—his delicate features, his slender hands, the way his robes clung to his slim waist. He barely noticed the way his own breathing grew heavier.

He wanted to touch him.

No, he wanted to break him.

Lan Wangji was too pure, too perfect. He wanted to see him undone, to see those golden eyes lose their innocence, to see him cry, beg.

Wen Xu took a slow step forward, his fingers twitching at his side. Lan Wangji was focused on his bow, unaware of how the man beside him was eyeing him like a predator. Wen Xu reached forward, under the pretense of adjusting Lan Wangji’s stance, his hand moving toward the omega’s waist—

A loud, teasing voice interrupted.

“Ah, what’s this? You’re teaching my future husband now?”

Wen Xu immediately froze, his hand retracting before it could make contact with Lan Wangji’s body. His expression darkened for a split second before he schooled it into neutrality.

Wei Wuxian stood a few feet away, arms crossed, an unmistakable glint of amusement and possessiveness in his eyes.

Lan Wangji blinked and turned slightly, as if just noticing him. “Wei Ying,” he said softly.

Wei Wuxian strode over with his usual confidence, his eyes flickering over Wen Xu for the briefest moment before he turned his full attention to Lan Wangji.

“What kind of fiancé would I be if I let another alpha teach my future husband archery?” Wei Wuxian said dramatically. “No, no, I must take responsibility.”

Before Lan Wangji could protest, Wei Wuxian stepped behind him and wrapped his arms around Lan Wangji’s waist, his hands covering the omega’s as he adjusted his grip on the bow.

Lan Wangji stiffened, a deep flush spreading across his cheeks. “Wei Ying—”

“Shhh,” Wei Wuxian whispered near his ear, his voice low and playful. “I’ll guide you.”

Lan Wangji swallowed hard, his hands trembling slightly as he tried to focus on the bowstring. He could feel the heat of Wei Wuxian’s body against his back, the warmth of his breath against his ear.

Wen Xu watched, his teeth grinding together in fury.

Wei Wuxian was touching him. Holding him. So close. So easily.

It should have been him.

Lan Wangji belonged to him.

And yet, here he was, laughing, blushing, completely unaware of the dark desire burning just a few feet away.

Wen Xu clenched his fists.

Wei Wuxian grinned as he helped Lan Wangji steady his shot. “There you go. Just like that. See? Your husband is always here to help you.”

Lan Wangji made a small noise of embarrassment and shot the arrow. It landed near the target, not quite hitting the center, but much better than before.

Wei Wuxian cheered. “That’s progress!”

Lan Wangji exhaled, trying to collect himself. “Mn,” he hummed softly.

Wei Wuxian ignored Wen Xu completely, too engrossed in teasing Lan Wangji. He turned slightly, whispering against Lan Wangji’s ear, “See? You don’t need anyone else to teach you when you have me.”

Lan Wangji glared at him, but his blush only deepened.

Wen Xu was seething.

Wei Wuxian had no idea. No idea that death was lurking right beside him. No idea how close he was to losing everything.

He should have been more careful. Should have been more aware.

But that was fine.

Wen Xu would bide his time.

Wei Wuxian wouldn’t see it coming.

-----------

Wei Wuxian had barely begun enjoying the warmth of Lan Wangji’s body against his own when—

“Wei Wuxian! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

A loud voice thundered through the training grounds, startling both Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian groaned internally as he felt a strong force yank him away from Lan Wangji’s back.

“Jiang Cheng! What was that for?!” Wei Wuxian whined, rubbing his wrist where his dear Shidi had nearly torn it off.

Jiang Cheng stood there, his face an odd shade between livid and mortified, his purple robes fluttering from his quick movements. “I should be asking you that! You two are only betrothed! Have you already forgotten the rules?!” He jabbed a finger toward Wei Wuxian’s chest accusingly. “Until the wedding in one month, you both will be chaperoned! That means no touching, no disgraceful behavior, and absolutely no repeating whatever you did in the cave!”

Wei Wuxian nearly choked on his own breath. “Wh—what?! I didn’t do anything in the cave! You—who told you that?!”

“Everyone knows what happened in the cave, Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng snapped, folding his arms. “Running around half-naked, sleeping together in a compromising state—”

Wei Wuxian’s face burned, and he turned sharply to Nie Huaisang. “You! You’re the only one who could’ve spread such scandalous rumors!”
Nie Huaisang gasped dramatically. “Me? Wei-xiong, I would never!” He fluttered his fan, voice dripping with mock innocence. “Besides, I only shared what I heard. The way the rumors spread—it’s not my fault people enjoy a good love story.”

Wei Wuxian groaned. “A love story?! Lan zhan nearly froze to death in that cave!”

Jiang Cheng folded his arms. “And yet, somehow, Lan Wangji survived. I wonder why?”

Wei Wuxian turned even redder. “That—that was because of—”

“—Because you wrapped yourself around him like an octopus?” Nie Huaisang suggested helpfully.

Wei Wuxian let out a strangled sound. “Shut up!”

. “Besides, if you didn’t want to be teased, maybe you shouldn’t have been caught in such an… intimate position with your beloved Lan Zhan.”

Lan Wangji, who had been standing silently by his brother’s side, turned redder than a ripe cherry. He stiffened and immediately moved to stand behind Lan Xichen, subtly shielding himself from the oncoming storm of teasing.

Jiang Yanli giggled and patted Jiang Cheng’s shoulder. “A-Cheng, calm down. A-Xian understands, so you don’t need to lecture him too much.”

“Hah!” Jiang Cheng scoffed. “Understand? He’s Wei Wuxian! He has never understood anything about rules! If I don’t lecture him now, he’ll be sneaking into Lan Wangji’s room in the middle of the night!”

Wei Wuxian almost choked.

Nie Huaisang gasped dramatically. “Would you, Wei-xiong? How daring!”

Wei Wuxian sputtered. “Of course not! I am not sneaking into anyone’s room! I have self-restraint!”

“Really? I don’t see it,” Jiang Cheng said dryly.

Lan Xichen chuckled and turned to his younger brother, who was still trying to hide behind him. “Wangji, what do you think? Do you believe Wei-gongzi has self-restraint?”

Lan Wangji hesitated. His golden eyes flickered toward Wei Wuxian, his ears burning. After a long pause, he quietly said, “…No.”

Everyone burst into laughter.

Wei Wuxian gasped in betrayal. “Lan Zhan! You wound me!”

Lan Wangji, clearly regretting his words, lowered his head and said softly, “I… misspoke.”

Nie Huaisang waved his fan. “No, no, Hanguang-jun! That was perfect! You don’t need to hold back when telling the truth about Wei-xiong’s lack of self-control!”

Wei Wuxian groaned. “I can’t believe this! Even Lan Zhan is teasing me now?”

Jiang Yanli smiled warmly. “A-Xian, you’ve teased him so much all these months. It’s only fair he gets to return the favor a little.”

Wei Wuxian sighed dramatically. “Aiya, A-Jie, you’re taking their side too? Am I truly alone in this world?”

Lan Wangji, feeling a tiny bit guilty, tugged at Wei Wuxian’s sleeve lightly. “…I am on your side.”

Wei Wuxian blinked at him. Lan Wangji’s face was still dusted with pink, but his expression was earnest. Wei Wuxian felt something tighten in his chest before he grinned widely. “Aiya, Lan Zhan, I knew you cared about me!”

Lan Wangji immediately stepped back, looking away. “Mn.”

Nie Huaisang sighed dramatically. “Ahh, young love! It’s so beautiful~”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “Disgusting.”

____________________

After their eventful exchange at the training ground, the group decided to move to the garden to enjoy tea together.

The serene landscape of Cloud Recesses made for the perfect backdrop. A small pavilion had been set up with refreshments, and the gentle rustling of the trees accompanied the sound of their laughter and conversation.

Servants came to serve the tea, and as soon as everyone was seated, the teasing began again.

Wei Wuxian leaned closer to Lan Wangji, smirking. “Lan Zhan, how was your morning? Did you miss me?”

Lan Wangji, still flustered from earlier, looked down at his teacup. “…Mn.”

Nie Huaisang gasped. “Wait! Did Hanguang-jun just admit he missed Wei-xiong?!”

Wei Wuxian beamed. “I knew it!” He reached out and took Lan Wangji’s hand in his, grinning triumphantly. “Lan Zhan, you’re getting bolder! You even held my hand in front of everyone!”

Lan Wangji immediately withdrew his hand and turned away, but the red on his face spread all the way to his ears.

Jiang Cheng slammed his teacup down. “You two! Enough of this nonsense! Why are you both acting like lovesick fools?!”

Nie Huaisang smirked. “Aiya, Jiang-xiong, are you jealous? Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find love one day too!”

Jiang Cheng glared at him. “Shut up.”

Lan Xichen chuckled and turned to Jiang Yanli. “Jiang-guniang, do they always behave this way?”

Jiang Yanli smiled, stirring her tea gracefully. “They do. A-Xian has always been like this, and Wangji is very patient with him. It’s quite adorable, don’t you think?”

Lan Xichen gave her a warm look. “Yes. Adorable indeed.”

Jiang Yanli looked at him, slightly startled by the softness in his gaze. A faint pink dusted her cheeks, and she quickly sipped her tea.

Nie Huaisang immediately pounced on this moment. “Oh~? Lan Xichen-gege, why are you looking at Jiang-guniang like that? That was such a warm gaze!”

Jiang Yanli coughed lightly, looking away. “Huaisang, don’t tease.”

Lan Xichen merely smiled. “It is only natural to admire a kind and gentle person.”

Jiang Yanli’s blush deepened.

Jiang Cheng, noticing the shift in atmosphere, scowled. “No. Absolutely not.”

Nie Huaisang grinned mischievously. “Ah, Jiang-xiong, why are you so against your sister having admirers?”

Jiang Cheng crossed his arms. “Because I know how alphas think. And I especially don’t trust a certain Lan Sect leader—”

Lan Xichen chuckled. “You wound me, Jiang-gongzi. I have only the utmost respect for your sister.”

Jiang Cheng grumbled. “We’ll see.”

Meanwhile, Wei Wuxian was still focused entirely on Lan Wangji. He nudged him playfully. “Lan Zhan, do you think your brother and my sister would make a good match?”

Lan Wangji hesitated, then nodded slowly. “…Mn.”

Jiang Cheng nearly exploded. “WEI WUXIAN!”

Wei Wuxian cackled. “What? I was just asking for Lan Zhan’s honest opinion!”

Jiang Cheng pinched the bridge of his nose. “I swear, you’re going to give me a headache.”

Nie Huaisang giggled behind his fan. “Ah, Jiang-xiong, maybe you should learn to relax! With how things are going, you’ll have a sister married into the Lan Clan and a sworn brother married to Hanguang-jun~ That means you might end up visiting Cloud Recesses quite often!”

Jiang Cheng looked horrified. “I refuse.”

Wei Wuxian wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “A-Cheng, don’t be shy! You’ll love it here! You and Lan Qiren can have so many rules discussions—”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!”

The garden filled with laughter as the group continued their teasing and conversation, enjoying the rare moment of peace and happiness before their lives would inevitably become chaotic once more.

_____________________

The evening sun had long set beyond the mountains, leaving the Cloud Recesses bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. The night air was crisp, carrying the gentle rustling of leaves as a light breeze moved through the pavilions. The serene atmosphere stood in stark contrast to the lively conversations and laughter that had filled the garden just moments ago.

One by one, the guests had bid their farewells, retreating to their respective quarters for the night. Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji walked together in comfortable silence, the elder brother casting occasional glances at his younger sibling.

“You seemed… happy today, Wangji,” Lan Xichen remarked as they reached the Jingshi.

Lan Wangji hesitated for a moment before giving a small nod. “Mn.”

Lan Xichen smiled knowingly. “It is good to see you like this.”

There was something soft in his voice, a warmth that only an older brother could have. He patted Lan Wangji’s shoulder gently. “Rest well, Wangji.”

Lan Wangji inclined his head in farewell before entering his quarters, his home, his sanctuary—the Jingshi. The place was as pristine as ever, untouched and silent, yet the moment he stepped inside, he felt a strange warmth in the air. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but it was there.

Shaking off the odd feeling, he moved towards his washbasin, methodically cleansing his hands and face before changing into his night robes. The soft white fabric draped elegantly over his frame, the loose sleeves cascading as he tied the sash with precise, practiced movements.

Lan Wangji let out a quiet exhale, allowing his mind to settle. The day had been filled with unexpected teasing and warmth, moments of companionship he wasn’t used to but had slowly begun to accept. His thoughts, inevitably, drifted to Wei Wuxian.

How could they not?

The unruly Alpha was like the sun—brilliant, chaotic, inescapable. Even in the quiet of his Jingshi, Wei Wuxian lingered. His laughter still echoed in Lan Wangji’s ears, his teasing smirk flashing in his mind’s eye.

Lan Wangji sighed, shaking his head slightly. What is he doing to me?

Brushing the thoughts aside, he made his way to his bed. But as he reached the edge of the mattress, his golden eyes widened ever so slightly.

There, resting on his pillow, was a single red rose.

Its petals were full and rich, vibrant against the pale sheets. The scent was intoxicating, deep and alluring, carrying a sweetness that filled the air.

Lan Wangji felt the tips of his ears heat up.

“Wei Ying.”

There was no doubt in his mind who had placed it there. Who else could it be? Who else would have the audacity to enter his private quarters and leave behind something so bold, so intimate?

His fingers hovered over the delicate petals before gently picking up the rose. His heartbeat was calm, steady—but there was warmth in his chest, an unspoken feeling that swelled in his ribs. Bringing the flower closer, he inhaled deeply.

The moment he did, something changed.

A soft white glow pulsed from the rose. It was faint at first, like a whisper of light, but then it grew stronger, wrapping around him in unseen threads of energy.

Lan Wangji’s breath hitched. His pupils dilated.

His body stiffened as the glow from the rose surged through him, seeping into his veins. His golden eyes flickered with a brief, eerie luminescence before dulling into an unfocused haze. The tension in his shoulders melted, his grip on the rose loosening as his hands fell limply to his sides.

His mind—so sharp, so disciplined—became clouded.

Everything blurred at the edges.

For a few moments, Lan Wangji remained motionless, his body caught in an unnatural stillness. He stood there, the red rose still in his grasp, his face utterly devoid of emotion.

Outside the Jingshi, beyond the neatly trimmed courtyard, someone watched.

From the shadowed balcony of an adjacent pavilion, Wen Xu stood, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction. His lips curled into a sinister smirk as he observed Lan Wangji through the latticed window, watching as the Second Jade of Lan stood entranced.

“Perfect.”

The whispered word was barely carried by the wind, but the satisfaction in his voice was unmistakable.

For days, Wen Xu had been planning. Watching. Waiting. He had studied Lan Wangji’s movements, his habits, his strengths and weaknesses. The moment he discovered the engagement between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, something within him had snapped.

How could someone like Wei Wuxian—an unruly, insolent mutt—claim someone as pure, as untouchable as Lan Wangji?

It was unforgivable.

Lan Wangji should belong to him.

And now, he would.

His fingers tapped against the wooden railing, his smirk deepening as Lan Wangji remained in his dazed state. The effects of the enchanted rose were working exactly as intended.

The magic had been subtle, carefully woven into the very essence of the petals. It was not a simple spell of control—no, that would be too crude, too noticeable. Instead, it was something far more insidious.

It planted a seed. A whisper of suggestion. A carefully crafted illusion of obedience.

Lan Wangji would not feel any different. Not immediately. But soon… soon, Wen Xu’s voice would become the one he listened to.

Soon, his will would bend.

Soon, Lan Wangji would be his.

A chuckle rumbled in Wen Xu’s throat as he leaned against the pillar, watching his work unfold.

Back in the Jingshi, Lan Wangji’s body slowly began to relax. The glow in his eyes faded, his expression returning to its usual calm. The rose, now drained of its unnatural energy, crumbled slightly in his hand, its petals falling to the floor like drops of blood against the white sheets.

Lan Wangji blinked.

His brows furrowed ever so slightly. A flicker of confusion passed through his gaze, but it was brief. Too brief.

As if nothing had happened, he let out a quiet breath, placing the remnants of the rose aside. He pulled back the covers, lay down on the bed, and closed his eyes.

Sleep came easily.

Too easily.

Wen Xu exhaled in satisfaction, stepping back into the shadows. His work for tonight was done.

“Sleep well, Hanguang-jun.” His voice was a quiet promise, dark and possessive. “Soon, you will not remember a world without me in it.”

And with that, he disappeared into the night.

___________________

Time, relentless and unyielding, marched forward. Days blended into nights, and before anyone could grasp it, only fifteen days remained before the grand wedding of Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji.

Cloud Recesses buzzed with activity, its usual serene atmosphere temporarily disrupted by the preparations. The Jiang and Lan Clans were in a silent yet fierce competition, each determined to outdo the other in ensuring the wedding was nothing short of legendary.

Madam Yu, proud and exacting, refused to let the Lan Clan overshadow the Jiang Clan in grandeur.

Lan Qiren, ever dignified and rigid, would rather perish than let the Jiang Clan outshine them.

With both elders at the helm, wedding discussions, guest lists, ceremonial rites, and preparations were nearly finalized. The pavilions were adorned with banners, courtyards prepared for hosting the grand event, and tailors worked tirelessly to craft the finest wedding robes.

Though the marriage would take place in the Lan Clan, as per tradition, the final leg of celebrations would be held in Lotus Pier, where Wei Wuxian would formally take his wedded mate home.

And so, tomorrow, the Jiang Clan would depart for Lotus Pier, only to return in fifteen days to escort Lan Wangji as Wei Wuxian’s spouse.

For the past few weeks, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji spent every possible moment together.

Or, at least, they tried to.

For standing between them like a wall of steel was none other than Jiang Cheng.

“A-Cheng!” Wei Wuxian groaned dramatically, throwing his head back in exasperation. “Do you really need to follow us everywhere? Can’t you give us a single moment alone? Just one!”

Jiang Cheng, arms crossed, face unamused, scoffed. “You? Alone with Lan Wangji? Ha. Like I’d allow it. Who knows what kind of nonsense you’d pull?”

“What nonsense?” Wei Wuxian gasped, clutching his chest as if deeply offended. “How could you think so lowly of me? I am a gentleman—”

Jiang Cheng’s glare intensified.

Wei Wuxian huffed. “Okay, fine, but really! We are getting married! Do you really have to watch us like a hawk?”

Lan Wangji, standing serenely beside him, glanced at Wei Wuxian’s pouting expression. His lips parted, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he remained quiet.

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “Getting married or not, you’re still you, and I don’t trust you not to cause trouble. So no, I’m not leaving. Deal with it.”

Wei Wuxian groaned louder, causing passing Lan disciples to glance at him in amusement.

Lan Xichen, watching from a distance with Jiang Yanli, chuckled softly. “Your brother is truly protective, Jiang-guniang.”

Jiang Yanli smiled, her eyes warm. “He loves A-Xian very much. He won’t admit it, but he’s just nervous about letting him go.”

Lan Xichen hummed thoughtfully. “Letting go of someone dear is never easy.”

Their gazes met then, a moment of quiet understanding passing between them. Lan Xichen and Jiang Yanli’s interactions had grown frequent these past few weeks. What started as casual conversations had slowly turned into lingering glances, soft exchanges, and something unspoken but undeniable.

________________

Unbeknownst to everyone, while joyous preparations occupied the two clans, Lan Wangji had unknowingly fallen deeper into an unseen web.

For fifteen nights straight, a single red rose had appeared on his pillow.

And every night, without fail, Lan Wangji inhaled its scent.

It had started subtly, innocently. The first time he found it, he had thought Wei Wuxian left it for him. The thought alone had made him blush.

And so, each night, when the rose appeared, he never questioned it.

Never once did he realize how, with every inhale, an invisible chain wrapped tighter around his mind.

Never once did he notice the unseen glow that flickered in his golden eyes before vanishing.

He felt no difference. No discomfort.

And yet, without realizing it, his once-unbreakable will was slowly being bent.

Wen Xu watched from the shadows.

Every night, he stood in the darkness, hidden behind the latticed windows of a distant pavilion, watching as Lan Wangji obediently took in the scent of the cursed rose.

A twisted smirk curled on his lips.

His plan was working perfectly.

The Jiang Clan was leaving tomorrow. Fifteen more days. That was all he needed.

He had already taken leave from the Lan Clan under the guise of Jin Zixuan, claiming an urgent matter required his presence elsewhere.

Yet, in truth, he remained here.

He still visited Cloud Recesses every night in secret, ensuring his magic worked on Lan Wangji.

Soon, the final phase of his plan would begin.

_________________

The next morning, the Jiang Clan readied themselves for departure.

The household was alive with movement as luggage, carriages, and traveling necessities were arranged.

Madam Yu, regal and proud, inspected everything personally.

“Make sure everything is packed properly! A-Song, don’t forget the ceremonial robes! A-Li, is the guest list finalized? Wei Wuxian, stop bothering Lan Wangji and come help!”

Wei Wuxian groaned loudly. “Why am I being punished for loving my fiancé?”

Madam Yu shot him a glare. “Because you are a menace, and I don’t trust you to behave.”

Wei Wuxian turned to Jiang Yanli for help. She merely smiled kindly but did not interfere.

As the preparations concluded, Wei Wuxian turned to Lan Wangji.
The sun dipped below the distant mountains, casting a golden hue over the Cloud Recesses. The air was crisp, filled with the lingering scent of ink, sandalwood, and the faint whisper of blooming osmanthus trees. The gentle rustling of leaves accompanied the hush that had fallen between the two figures standing beneath the moonlit corridor.

Wei Wuxian leaned against a white jade railing, his usual easy grin absent as he gazed at the man before him. Lan Wangji stood still, his hands clasped in front of him, his pristine white robes glowing in the dimming light. His golden eyes, so often cool and unreadable, held a quiet reluctance that made Wei Wuxian’s chest tighten.

Fifteen days.

It was not a long separation, but for some reason, it felt heavier than it should.

Wei Wuxian had come to Cloud Recesses few months ago, and now, he was leaving. He had to go back to Lotus Pier, to reassure Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli, to prepare for the marriage that would bind him and Lan Wangji together in a way neither of them had ever imagined.

A marriage.

It still felt surreal.

But Lan Wangji had accepted it. He had agreed to it with unwavering steadiness, as if it was the most natural course of action in the world. Wei Wuxian had spent countless nights turning the thought over in his mind, yet he could still scarcely believe it.

Now, standing here, with the weight of parting pressing down on him, he suddenly felt reluctant to leave.

He shifted from foot to foot before forcing a bright smile. “Lan Zhan, don’t look so serious. It’s not like I won’t be coming back.”

Lan Wangji’s expression remained unreadable, but something in his eyes softened.

“I will wait,” Lan Wangji said simply.

Wei Wuxian swallowed, caught off guard by the quiet conviction in those words. He had never been one for solemn promises, yet Lan Wangji uttered them so effortlessly, with such certainty, that they settled into the very marrow of his bones.

Wei Wuxian rubbed the back of his neck. “Fifteen days will pass in the blink of an eye. And then, I’ll be back to whisk you away from here. Ah, just imagine the scandal! The great Hanguang-jun, running off with me, a known troublemaker.” He winked playfully, hoping to lighten the mood.

Lan Wangji did not smile, but there was a glimmer of something in his eyes. Fondness, perhaps.

Instead of responding to Wei Wuxian’s teasing, Lan Wangji reached into his sleeve and pulled out something small and pale.

Wei Wuxian blinked as Lan Wangji stepped forward, holding the object between his slender fingers. A long, white ribbon, soft as silk, embroidered with the faintest of cloud patterns—Lan Wangji’s forehead ribbon.

Wei Wuxian inhaled sharply.

The forehead ribbon was sacred. A Lan’s pride. A symbol of self-restraint, of discipline, of the rigid rules that governed their lives. It was a piece of Lan Wangji himself, something that he had never allowed another to touch so freely.

And now, he was offering it to Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian’s fingers trembled slightly as he reached out. “Lan Zhan, this is—”

“A promise,” Lan Wangji interrupted, his voice quiet but firm.

Wei Wuxian’s breath caught. He stared at Lan Wangji, his heart hammering against his ribs.

He curled his fingers around the ribbon, feeling the warmth it carried. It was a part of Lan Wangji, just as much as his sword, just as much as his music, just as much as his unwavering trust.

Lan Wangji reached out, taking Wei Wuxian’s wrist with gentle precision. His touch was light, barely there, as if hesitant yet determined. Slowly, he looped the ribbon around Wei Wuxian’s wrist, tying it into a delicate knot.

Wei Wuxian exhaled shakily, watching as Lan Wangji smoothed the ribbon into place. “I’ll take care of it,” he murmured. “I won’t let anything happen to it.”

Lan Wangji nodded, as if he had never doubted it.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The night air was cool, the sound of cicadas humming faintly in the distance. Wei Wuxian could feel his heartbeat thudding against his ribs, louder than before, faster than before.

Fifteen days.

Fifteen days apart, and yet, at this moment, leaving felt unbearable.

He wanted to stay.

Before he could think, before he could hesitate, Wei Wuxian acted on pure impulse.

He leaned in, just slightly, just enough—

And pressed the lightest of kisses against Lan Wangji’s lips.

It was barely more than a fleeting touch, as soft as a falling petal. Warm, brief, almost chaste. Yet, it sent a jolt through Wei Wuxian’s entire being, something fierce and overwhelming.

He pulled back instantly, his own eyes wide with shock at what he had just done.

Lan Wangji had gone completely still.

Wei Wuxian panicked. “Ah—Lan Zhan! I—I didn’t mean—” He stopped himself, realizing how ridiculous that sounded. “Okay, maybe I did mean to, but I—I don’t know what came over me! It was just—you looked so serious, and I just—”

Lan Wangji did not move, did not speak.

Wei Wuxian swallowed hard. “Lan Zhan?”

Still no response.

The silence stretched between them, heavy, thick, suffocating.

Wei Wuxian’s face burned. He had done it now. He had probably scandalized poor Lan Zhan beyond words. What if Lan Wangji never spoke to him again? What if he changed his mind about the marriage?

What if—

A hand reached up, the faintest touch against his sleeve.

Wei Wuxian froze.

Lan Wangji’s fingers brushed over the fabric before withdrawing. When he finally met Wei Wuxian’s gaze, there was something unreadable in his eyes. His ears were red .

Not anger.

Not rejection.

Something deeper. Something that made Wei Wuxian’s heart stutter.

Lan Wangji’s lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he only exhaled softly.

“Fifteen days,” he murmured.

Wei Wuxian swallowed, nodding dumbly.

Lan Wangji lifted his hand, fingertips ghosting over the ribbon tied securely around Wei Wuxian’s wrist.

“I will wait.”

Wei Wuxian’s breath caught in his throat.

He clenched his fists, willing himself to stay composed. “Then I’ll make sure to come back,” he promised.
His expression softened.

“Fifteen days. That’s all. Then I’m coming to take you home.”

Lan Wangji’s gaze met his. There was no hesitation when he nodded shyly. “Mn.”

Wei Wuxian grinned, reaching out to squeeze Lan Wangji’s hand, only for Jiang Cheng to smack his arm away.

“Enough!” Jiang Cheng barked. “Get on your sword already!”

Wei Wuxian groaned, but obeyed. With a final lingering glance at Lan Wangji, he took off with the rest of the Jiang Clan, soaring through the skies towards Lotus Pier.

Lan Wangji watched until they disappeared from sight.

For a moment, he felt something odd—a faint unease.

But before he could dwell on it, a gentle wind carried a familiar scent to his nose.

A single red rose lay on the doorstep of the Jingshi.

Without question, Lan Wangji bent down, picked it up, and inhaled deeply.

From the distant shadows, Wen Xu smiled.

______________________

The moon hung high in the dark sky, casting a silver glow over Cloud Recesses. A cool breeze passed through the corridors, rustling the sheer curtains of the Jingshi. Inside, Lan Wangji lay in his bed, his serene face relaxed in deep slumber.

Beside him, the faint scent of a red rose still lingered in the air.

The delicate flower lay discarded on the bedside table, its white glow flickering softly before fading into the darkness.

Then, a shadow moved.

Silently, a tall figure entered the room, his dark robes blending into the night. His presence was almost ghostly, his movements eerily fluid.

Wen Xu.

His eyes, dark and filled with twisted desire, locked onto the figure lying before him.

Lan Wangji, dressed in his loose white night robes, looked utterly divine. The fabric clung delicately to his frame, outlining the elegant curve of his throat, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the long, slender legs hidden beneath the silk. His lips, slightly parted in sleep, looked soft—too soft, too tempting.

Wen Xu swallowed, his breathing heavy with want.

He knelt beside the bed, his fingers twitching as his hungry gaze trailed over Lan Wangji’s form.

Perfection.

So cold and unattainable in the waking world. But here, in this cursed slumber, he was within reach.

A slow, predatory smirk curled his lips.

“Soon,” he whispered, eyes gleaming with obsession.

He lifted a hand, reaching out.

He wanted to touch—to claim.

But just as his fingers were about to ghost over Lan Wangji’s delicate jaw—

"Mew! Mewww! Mewwww!"

A sudden, loud, piercing mewl shattered the silence.

Wen Xu’s body stiffened.

His head snapped toward the small lump curled beside Lan Wangji’s pillow. A tiny white kitten, its fur soft as clouds, its golden eyes wide with suspicion.

It arched its tiny back, tail puffed up, ears flattened, and hissed at him.

“Tch!” Wen Xu’s expression twisted in rage. His fingers curled into fists.

Lan Wangji stirred slightly at the sound.

Wen Xu’s eyes narrowed. Not now.

His jaw clenched as he forced himself to step back. He took a final look at the sleeping beauty before him, then turned and disappeared into the shadows.

But before he left, he cast a dark glance at the kitten and whispered in a voice laced with madness—

“Soon… Soon, he will be mine. And when that time comes, I will do whatever I want with him.”

The kitten let out another loud mewl, but Wen Xu was already gone.

The room fell into silence once more.

Yet, in the moonlight, the little kitten curled closer to Lan Wangji’s chest, protectively guarding him against the unseen darkness.

________________________

Chapter Text

The sun had barely risen over the majestic peaks of Cloud Recesses, its golden rays spilling gently across the pristine halls of the Lan Sect. The morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of lotus and pine, but inside the Jingshi, an air of quiet excitement buzzed.

Today was the day.

Lan Wangji’s wedding day.

For the first time in his life, Lan Wangji was not woken by the soft chimes of the morning bell but by the mischievous voices of Lan Weiqi and Lan Shiyun.

“Senior! Wake up! Today’s the big day!”

“Hanguang-jun, you cannot be late to your own wedding! Wei-gongzi is on his way!”

Lan Wangji stirred, his long lashes fluttering slightly before his golden eyes blinked open.

Two bright, grinning faces hovered over him.

Lan Weiqi’s smirk was especially mischievous as he declared, “Lan Wangji! Today you become a married man! No more quiet, single life for you!”

Lan Wangji sat up immediately, his pale cheeks dusting with a faint pink. He was about to scold them for their unnecessary excitement, but before he could, Lan Weiqi and Lan Shiyun grabbed him by the arms and practically dragged him out of bed.

“Off to the bathing pool, come on!”

“You must look perfect for your husband!”

Lan Wangji’s blush deepened at their words, but he allowed himself to be led toward the bathing chambers.

---

The bathing area of the Lan Sect was a private, serene space—a large pool carved from smooth jade stone, filled with warm, fragrant water. Today, it had been specially prepared for the wedding ceremony.

The water was infused with rose petals, fresh milk, rare herbal essences, and crushed pearls, all chosen for their purifying and beautifying properties.

Lan Wangji, dressed in a simple white robe, stood at the edge of the pool, gazing at the shimmering water.

Lan Weiqi clapped his hands together. “Well, what are you waiting for? In you go!”

Lan Wangji sighed, his ears slightly pink, and gracefully stepped into the water. The warmth immediately soothed his skin, and the delicate fragrance of roses surrounded him.

As soon as he sank into the water, his long, ink-black hair spread out like silk over the surface.

Lan Shiyun and Lan Weiqi rolled up their sleeves and moved behind him.

“We have been entrusted with the task of making you look your absolute best, Hanguang-jun!” Lan Weiqi declared with a proud grin.

Lan Wangji narrowed his eyes. He did not trust that grin.

But before he could protest, Lan Shiyun gently poured water over his shoulders.

“Relax, Senior,” he said soothingly. “We’ll take care of everything.”

Lan Wangji sighed and leaned back slightly, allowing them to proceed.

Lan Weiqi, always the bold one, began scrubbing Lan Wangji’s back. “Ahhh, your skin is so smooth, no wonder Wei-gongzi will be obsessed with you!”

Lan Wangji stiffened. His blush deepened. “Lan Weiqi.”

Lan Weiqi ignored the warning and continued, “Senior, aren’t you nervous? Today, you’ll finally be living with Wei Wuxian! Just imagine—”

“Lan Weiqi.” Lan Wangji’s voice was sharper.

Shiyun, more polite but still mischievous, gently massaged scented oil into Lan Wangji’s arms. “Wei-gongzi always stares at you like you’re the most precious treasure. It must feel nice to be loved so much.”

Lan Wangji’s lips parted slightly, but he did not reply.

He thought about Wei Wuxian’s bright, mischievous eyes. The way he always looked at him, the way his touch lingered, the way he whispered lan zhan against his ear.

His heart fluttered, and the water around him rippled slightly.

Lan Weiqi, noticing his silence, smirked. “See? You’re already thinking about him, aren’t you?”

Lan Wangji sank lower into the water, half his face disappearing beneath the surface, only his golden eyes visible.

Lan Shiyun and Lan Weiqi burst into laughter.

After much more teasing—and much more blushing on Lan Wangji’s part—the bath was completed.

Lan Wangji stepped out of the water, his fair skin now glowing, his black hair sleek and perfumed with lotus oil. His white robe clung to his frame, making him look ethereal.

Lan Weiqi and Lan Shiyun wrapped him in a silk robe and began drying his hair.

Lan Shiyun smiled warmly as he carefully combed through the long strands. “You truly look beautiful, Senior. Wei-gongzi will be speechless when he sees you.”

Lan Wangji, for the first time, did not argue.

He simply gazed out toward the horizon, where, somewhere in the distance, Wei Wuxian was already on his way.

_________________

The soft golden hues of the morning had deepened into a rich amber glow, signaling the passage of time. Cloud Recesses was alive with anticipation, its pristine halls bustling with quiet but efficient activity. From the courtyards to the grand hall, every corner of the Lan Sect shimmered with delicate yet breathtaking decorations.

Lan Wangji, however, was blissfully unaware of the final touches being made to the wedding venue.

He had been guided back to his room by Lan Shiyun and Lan Weiqi, his most trusted juniors.

Dressed in a simple, single-layered white robe, barely thick enough to shield him from the cool air, Lan Wangji walked with practiced elegance. The fabric clung softly to his frame, his damp hair cascading down his back like strands of midnight silk.

Inside the Jingshi, a familiar presence awaited him.

His aunt.

Madam Lan stood in the center of the room, her expression unreadable, yet her eyes shimmered with quiet emotion.

As soon as Lan Wangji entered, she turned toward him, her gaze sweeping over her son’s form.

Lan Wangji hesitated for the briefest moment, uncertainty flickering in his golden eyes. It was rare to be in his aunt’s presence like this—intimate, unguarded, vulnerable.

Lan Weiqi and Lan Shiyun stepped aside respectfully, allowing the mother and son a moment of quiet understanding.

“My child…”

Her voice, though soft, carried the weight of years of silence, of words unspoken, of love never fully expressed.

Lan Wangji lowered his gaze.

Madam Lan walked forward, lifting a gentle hand to cup his cheek.

“You have grown so beautifully, Wangji.”

Her fingers, delicate and warm, traced over his cheekbone before dropping to his shoulders. “I never thought I would see this day.”

Lan Wangji swallowed, his throat tightening with emotion.

For a moment, he did not speak. But then, in a voice so soft it could have been the whisper of the wind, he murmured:

“Aunt…”

A small, almost wistful smile graced Madam Lan’s lips.

“Come, my son. Let me dress you for your wedding.”

Lan Wangji stood still as his aunt and the two juniors began dressing him, each layer of his wedding attire carrying with it centuries of tradition and deep meaning.

The first layer was sheer and almost transparent, a delicate silk fabric so fine it felt like air against his skin.

Lan Weiqi let out a low whistle. “Senior, are you really supposed to wear something this… thin?”

Lan Wangji’s ears turned pink, but he did not argue as the next layers were carefully added over the translucent fabric.

The second layer was a deep crimson robe embroidered with golden clouds, representing prosperity and strength.

The third layer was a tighter, form-fitting robe, its material hugging Lan Wangji’s lean frame, accentuating the sharp cut of his shoulders and the defined curve of his waist.

Lan Shiyun tightened the sash around his waist, his movements precise and gentle.

“It fits you perfectly, Hanguang-jun,” he said, eyes gleaming with admiration.

Finally, the outermost layer was added.

A rich, scarlet-red robe adorned with golden embroidery in the form of intricate, swirling dragons and phoenixes.

The phoenix—the symbol of harmony and devotion. The dragon—a symbol of power and protection.

Each detail was meticulously crafted, each stitch holding a blessing for the marriage to come.

The sleeves were wide and flowing, the hem cascading to the floor like liquid fire, leaving an ethereal trail behind him.

A final golden sash was wrapped around his waist, cinching the layers together in an elegant knot.

Lan Weiqi stepped back, his jaw dropping. “Senior! You look… you look…”

“Breathtaking,” Lan Shiyun finished softly, admiration clear in his tone.

Lan Wangji’s blush deepened.

Once the robes were perfectly arranged, Madam Lan guided her son to the dressing table.

Lan Wangji sat down, his movements as graceful as ever, his golden eyes reflecting in the polished mirror before him.

His aunt stood behind him, lifting the ceremonial headpiece—a golden ornament delicately woven with pearls, jade, and tiny red gems.

Carefully, she began weaving it into his soft, dark locks.

Lan Shiyun and Lan Weiqi eagerly joined in, fixing intricate hairpins into place, adjusting stray strands, and securing the elegant cascade of his hair.

With each pin placed, Lan Wangji’s transformation continued.

His face, already sculpted to perfection, needed little enhancement.

A light touch of golden powder dusted over his eyelids, making his eyes glow even more brilliantly.

A delicate trace of vermilion-red was brushed over his lips, a stark contrast against his pale complexion.

Lastly, a thin golden chain was draped over his forehead, accentuating the regal air he already possessed.

Lan Weiqi, satisfied with their work, clapped his hands. “Wei Wuxian is going to pass out when he sees you.”

Lan Wangji averted his gaze, his ears tinged with pink.

His aunt smiled softly, her hands lingering on his shoulders.

“You are the most beautiful groom I have ever seen, my son.”

The soft rustle of robes announced Lan Xichen’s arrival.

The room fell silent as the Lan Sect Leader stepped forward, his usually calm eyes glazed with emotion.

Lan Wangji rose from his seat, his golden eyes meeting his brother’s gaze.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, Lan Xichen broke into a gentle smile.

“Wangji…” His voice held a quiet tremor.

Lan Wangji tilted his head slightly, a silent question in his eyes.

Lan Xichen stepped closer, his hands landing firmly on Lan Wangji’s shoulders.

“You have found happiness.”

Lan Wangji’s lips parted slightly, surprise flickering in his expression.

Lan Xichen’s fingers tightened slightly, as if grounding himself.

“All these years… I have only wanted you to be free. To be happy. And now, you have found someone who will love you, cherish you, and walk beside you, no matter what.”

Lan Wangji’s chest tightened, his breath catching.

He had never been one for words. But in this moment, he wished he could say something—anything—to tell his brother just how much this meant.

Instead, he did the one thing he had not done since childhood.

He stepped forward and embraced Lan Xichen.

A sharp intake of breath sounded above him.

Then, Lan Xichen’s arms wrapped around him, pulling him close.

“Congratulations, Wangji.”

Lan Wangji closed his eyes, allowing himself this rare moment of warmth.

His mother and the juniors watched with soft smiles, knowing that in this moment, no words were needed.

Because finally, Lan Wangji was not alone.

And tonight, he would take his first steps toward a new life—a life with Wei Wuxian by his side.

________________________

The morning sun rose high over Lotus Pier, its golden light spilling across the water’s surface like scattered jewels. A soft breeze carried the scent of lotus blossoms and incense, weaving through the grand halls where servants bustled about, ensuring everything was perfect for the momentous occasion.

Today was Wei Wuxian’s wedding day.

For someone as mischievous and carefree as him, the idea of marriage had once seemed distant, an abstract concept meant for others. But now, standing in the center of his chamber, clad in only his inner robes, reality settled in like a warm weight on his chest. He was getting married. To Lan Wangji. His Lan Zhan.

Excitement, nervousness, anticipation—his heart was a storm of emotions, each beat a reminder that he was about to step into an entirely new chapter of his life.

Before he could fully lose himself in his thoughts, the doors to his chamber burst open with a loud bang.

“Wei Wuxian! Time to get dressed!”

Jiang Cheng strode in, looking exasperated as always. Behind him, a small army of people followed—Jiang Yanli, Nie Huaisang, Wen Qing, Wen Ning, his maternal uncle xiao xingchen and even Xue Yang, who had somehow invited himself to the preparations.

“Aiyo, wei xiong, look at you,” Nie Huaisang teased, folding his fan dramatically. “Standing there all bare and lost in thought! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were having second thoughts!”

“Who, me?” Wei Wuxian smirked, his usual confidence slipping back into place. “I wouldn’t run even if you paid me.”

“Tsk, such loyalty,” Xue Yang snickered, lounging against a table. “Hope you remember that when you’re tied to one man for the rest of your life.”

Jiang Cheng clicked his tongue. “Enough talk. We don’t have all day. Get moving.”

Wei Wuxian opened his mouth to retort, but before he could, Jiang Yanli was already guiding him to a large, steaming bath filled with fragrant herbs and flower petals.

“A-Xian,” she said gently, “you should soak for a while to relax.”

With a dramatic sigh, Wei Wuxian slipped into the warm water, letting the scent of lotus, sandalwood, and rose petals engulf him.

“Ahhh, now this is nice,” he hummed, sinking deeper. “Maybe I should get married every week just for this treatment.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Wen Qing rolled her eyes.

They let him soak for a while before Jiang Cheng, growing impatient, grabbed a wooden bucket and poured water straight over Wei Wuxian’s head.

“Agh! Jiang Cheng, you—”

“Shut up and scrub,” Jiang Cheng snapped. “I refuse to let you embarrass us by showing up looking like a feral street rat.”

Laughter filled the chamber as Nie Huaisang and jiang cheng helped him wash his hair, using scented oils and combing through the long, dark strands.

Once he was clean, they wrapped him in a silk robe and led him back to his dressing area, where his wedding attire await.

Spread out before him was a masterpiece of a wedding robe, befitting of a groom who was both a warrior and a prince.

The robe was deep crimson, embroidered with black and gold thread in the patterns of dragons and phoenixes intertwined, a symbol of balance and unity. The sleeves, long and flowing, bore delicate clouds and lotus motifs, a tribute to his connection to both the Yunmeng Jiang Clan and the Lan Clan.

The innermost layer was black silk, fitted close to his body, accentuating his sharp features and strong frame. Over it was a flowing crimson outer robe, fastened at the waist with a golden sash that bore the Wei family crest.

A high, stiff collar framed his throat, and the shoulders of the robe were embroidered with golden lotus vines that curled like whispers of fire. His long sleeves, wide and elegant, shimmered in the light, the embroidery catching the glow of the lanterns.

A long, flowing cape of sheer black silk trailed behind him, edged with red embroidery that told the story of a lone flute player standing against the night.

Nie Huaisang let out a low whistle. “Damn, Wei-xiong, you actually look like an emperor.”

Wei Wuxian grinned, twirling slightly to admire the way the fabric moved. “Well, I am the Wei Kingdom’s heir, after all.”

“Hah!” Xue Yang snorted. “You look too good for your own good. Think Hanguang-jun can handle this?”

Jiang Yanli giggled, stepping forward to adjust the collar. “A-Xian, you truly look wonderful. Lan Wangji will be mesmerized.”

Wei Wuxian felt warmth creep up his neck. The thought of Lan Wangji seeing him like this, eyes dark with emotion, lips parting slightly in awe—

No, no, no, he shouldn’t think like that now!

To distract himself, he turned to Jiang Cheng. “Well? What do you think?”

Jiang Cheng huffed, arms crossed. “It’s fine.”

“Just fine?” Wei Wuxian pouted. “I thought I’d at least get a ‘you don’t look like a stray dog for once.’”

“Hah,” Nie Huaisang laughed, tapping his fan against his chin. “Don’t worry, Wei-xiong. Jiang Cheng just doesn’t want to admit that his shidi actually cleaned up well.”

Wei Wuxian struck a dramatic pose. “You hear that? I’m a masterpiece today.”

Xue Yang smirked. “Too bad you’re about to be caged.”

“Wha—”

“He’s right,” Jiang Cheng smirked for the first time that morning. “Lan Wangji’s going to tie you down so hard you won’t have a single moment of freedom left.”

The room erupted in laughter, while Wei Wuxian spluttered, his ears turning red.

“Who says I won’t be the one tying him down?!” He shot back.

“Pfft,” Xue Yang grinned. “Dream on.”

Once his robe was perfectly arranged, Wen Qing stepped forward with a tray of accessories.

A golden jade crown was placed upon his head, securing his hair in an elegant updo, while thin golden chains with delicate red gemstones trailed from his ears, framing his sharp jawline. A thin red mark was drawn beneath his left eye, symbolizing marriage and protection.

Jiang Yanli adjusted a final gold clasp on his sleeve before stepping back, eyes glistening.

“You’re ready, A-Xian,” she said softly.

For a moment, the room fell silent as everyone took in the sight of Wei Wuxian—dressed in his finest, standing tall, his usual wildness tempered by something deeper, something more profound.

Wei Wuxian exhaled slowly, his fingers brushing the hilt of Suibian at his waist. This was real. This was happening.

Soon, he would stand before Lan Wangji.

And he couldn’t wait.

____________________

The air in the Cloud Recesses shimmered with quiet reverence, lanterns swaying gently in the breeze as the sun dipped below the horizon. The entire sect was bathed in hues of gold and red, casting a dreamlike glow over the grand wedding preparations.

At the heart of it all, in his private chambers, Lan Wangji sat in silent anticipation.

Fully dressed in his wedding attire, he was the epitome of grace—his tight-fitted crimson robe clinging to his slender frame, layered with sheer silks and delicate embroidery of phoenixes and lotus blossoms. The innermost layer was nearly transparent, revealing the faint outline of his skin beneath, though it remained tastefully modest. His long, flowing sleeves draped elegantly over his hands, and a thick golden sash cinched around his waist, emphasizing the gentle curve of his body.

His usually unbound hair was styled to perfection, adorned with fine golden ornaments, while a single strand rested over his shoulder. Jewelry glittered at his ears, delicate golden chains trailing down from his hairpins.

And yet—despite the regal image he presented—his heart was pounding like war drums beneath his pristine exterior.

This was it. His wedding day. He was about to become Wei Ying’s husband.

He should have been calm, collected—he had spent his entire life learning discipline. But instead, his fingers gripped his sleeves tightly, his pulse fluttering wildly beneath his delicate collar.

Just then, the doors burst open, and Lan Weiqi rushed inside, practically bouncing with excitement.

“Hanguang-jun! Hanguang-jun! Wei wuxian has arrived!”

Lan Wangji’s breath caught in his throat.

Wei Ying was here.

“Aiya! You should see him, Hanguang-jun!” Lan Weiqi grinned mischievously. “He looks so handsome! You’re really lucky, aren’t you?”

Lan Wangji’s ears burned bright red. Before he could respond, Lan Shiyun entered more gracefully, carrying the ceremonial red veil.

“Senior, it’s time,” he said with a warm smile.

With utmost care, Lan Shiyun lifted the veil and draped it over Lan Wangji’s head, the sheer red fabric cascading over his face, concealing his features from sight.

Lan Weiqi clasped his hands together dramatically. “Ah, such a stunning bride! I bet Wei-gongzi won’t be able to tear his eyes away!”

Lan Wangji lowered his gaze, his lips pressing into a firm line to suppress his embarrassment.

With the veil in place, the final preparations were complete. The time had come.

---

Meanwhile, at the entrance of the Cloud Recesses, Wei Wuxian and the Yunmeng Jiang clan arrived in full grandeur.

The entire procession was breathtaking—Wei Wuxian led them at the front, flanked by Jiang Cheng, Jiang Yanli, Nie Huaisang, Wen Qing, Wen Ning, and even Xue Yang, each dressed in vibrant celebratory colors.

Wei Wuxian himself radiated confidence and beauty in his wedding attire.

His robe was a striking combination of red and black, embroidered with gold and silver threads in the shape of dragons entwined with lotus blossoms. The deep crimson outer robe was split at the sides, revealing layers of black silk beneath, giving the illusion of shifting shadows as he moved.

The high collar and structured shoulders gave him a powerful, regal aura, and the golden embroidery on his sleeves seemed to shimmer with every flick of his hands.

Atop his head, a jade and gold crown secured his hair, while thin golden chains trailed down from his ears, framing his sharp jawline. A golden sash wrapped tightly around his waist, emphasizing his lithe yet strong physique.

He was breathtaking. A true emperor standing at the gates of the Cloud Recesses.

The Lan disciples bowed respectfully as they were greeted by Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen, who had been waiting to welcome the groom’s side.

But the moment Lan Xichen’s gaze landed on Jiang Yanli, he froze.

She was dressed in a flowing lavender and gold ensemble, delicate floral embroidery trailing down her sleeves and hem. Her hair was adorned with pearl-studded pins, and a gentle flush warmed her cheeks.

Lan Xichen, who was usually composed and refined, looked absolutely starstruck.

Nie Huaisang, never one to miss an opportunity, elbowed him playfully. “Xichen-ge, your heart is practically showing on your face~”

Lan Xichen cleared his throat, quickly schooling his expression, though the tips of his ears remained pink.

Once the greetings were exchanged, the groom’s side was led toward the ancestral hall.

---

Inside the grand ancestral hall, Wei Wuxian stood at the center, waiting before the sacred tablets of the Lan ancestors.

His hands curled into loose fists at his sides, his heartbeat racing. He was confident, sure—but as he waited, anticipation gnawed at him like fire.

And then—

The doors opened.

A hush fell over the hall as Lan Wangji entered, veiled in red, his steps light and graceful.

Wei Wuxian felt his breath leave him.

Lan Wangji was an ethereal vision, his tight-fitted robe molding against his delicate form, layers of sheer silk flowing around him like a gentle breeze. The golden embroidery shimmered beneath the lantern light, and the long red veil added an air of mystery, concealing yet tantalizing.

Wei Wuxian’s heart slammed against his ribs.

He barely noticed the laughter and murmurs from his family as his gaze remained glued to Lan Wangji, drinking in every delicate movement.

“Wei-xiong,” Nie Huaisang teased from behind. “You might want to stop staring before you set something on fire.”

“Oh?” Jiang Cheng smirked. “Is that drool I see, Wei Wuxian?”

Xue Yang snorted. “Didn’t even blink once. He’s gone.”

Wen Qing shook her head, exasperated. “At least pretend to have some restraint.”

But Wei Wuxian didn’t even have it in him to respond.

Lan Wangji was standing beside him now. Close enough that he could feel the faint warmth radiating from his body.

For the first time, Lan Wangji lifted his gaze beneath the veil, peering at Wei Wuxian through the sheer fabric.

Their eyes met.

And in that single, breathless moment, the entire world melted away.

Nothing else mattered—not the teasing, not the traditions, not the watchful eyes of their families.

It was just them.

A soft flutter of golden lashes. A slight tremble of breath. The faintest hint of a smile—hidden, yet felt.

Wei Wuxian, who had always been quick with words, found himself speechless.

He loved Lan Wangji.

Loved him more than anything in the world.

And today, in front of the heavens, he would vow to love him forever.

_________________

The grand ancestral hall was bathed in a golden glow, lanterns flickering gently as the solemn air of tradition intertwined with the quiet excitement of the gathered crowd. Every pair of eyes in the hall was fixed on Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, the groom and bride standing side by side, their hands almost brushing against each other.

Wei Wuxian, ever the bold one, tilted his head slightly, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper as he leaned in close.

“Lan Zhan,” he murmured, the warmth of his breath just barely caressing the edge of Lan Wangji’s veiled cheek. “You look too tempting like this. How can I focus on the ceremony when all I want to do is steal you away?”

Lan Wangji, hidden beneath the red veil, trembled slightly, his grip on his sleeve tightening. The way Wei Wuxian spoke—so unashamed, so full of desire and devotion—made his heart race uncontrollably.

Lan Weiqi, who stood nearby, snickered quietly as he caught the way Lan Wangji’s ears turned scarlet beneath the sheer fabric of the veil.

“Aiya, Wei-gongzi, at least wait until the vows are done before you start flirting so brazenly!”

Wei Wuxian grinned, completely unrepentant, but when he turned back to Lan Wangji, his expression softened.

This wasn’t just playful teasing—this was a moment they had both waited for. A moment that would tie them together for life.

At the sound of the ceremonial bell tolling, everyone fell silent as Lan Qiren stepped forward to officiate the wedding.

The ancient traditions of the Lan Clan dictated that a wedding between two cultivators of their standing required three vows—

One to honor their ancestors,
One to seek the blessing of the heavens,
And one to pledge themselves to each other.

The air grew solemn as Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji knelt before the altar, the glow of lanterns casting their figures in a golden-red hue.

Lan Qiren’s voice rang firm and steady as he guided them through the first vow.

“First, you bow to the ancestors who paved the path before you, honoring their wisdom and sacrifice.”

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji lowered themselves in unison, bowing toward the ancestral tablets lined upon the altar.

The scent of burning incense filled the room, a quiet reminder of the lineage they now carried forward together.

“Second, you bow to the heavens, seeking divine favor upon your union.”

Both men turned their gazes upward, bowing toward the sky, their movements slow and deliberate.

For a moment, a gentle breeze rustled through the hall, as if the heavens themselves acknowledged their bond.

Then, finally—

“Third, you bow to each other, vowing loyalty, love, and partnership for all your lives.”

Lan Wangji, his breath light and unsteady, turned toward Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian, for all his usual mischief, was nothing but reverent in this moment.

Slowly, they bowed toward each other, their motions synchronized in perfect harmony.

It was a vow that transcended words—a silent promise that neither would ever abandon the other.

As they straightened, Lan Xichen stepped forward.
With great care, he untied the red ceremonial ribbon from Lan Wangji’s forehead and wound it securely around Wei Wuxian’s wrist, binding them together.

It was a gesture of ultimate trust—one that Lan Wangji alone had chosen to bestow upon his beloved.

The hall burst into quiet murmurs of admiration, and for the first time in the entire ceremony, Wei Wuxian was left speechless.

He stared at the ribbon tied around his wrist, then back at Lan Wangji, who stood before him—his veil fluttering ever so slightly, his delicate fingers trembling faintly at his sides.

Wei Wuxian felt his chest tighten with overwhelming emotion.

It was real now. Lan Wangji was his. And he was Lan Wangji’s.

Forever.

The solemnity of the vows soon gave way to joyous celebration.

The moment the final rites were completed, the hall erupted into cheers and congratulations, the tension dissolving into warmth and laughter.

Nie Huaisang fanned himself dramatically, sighing as he looked between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji. “Aiyaa, Wei-xiong, I almost cried! Who knew you could be so serious?”

“He was only serious because he was too busy staring at Lan Wangji!” Jiang Cheng scoffed, arms crossed but lips twitching in amusement. “I was counting the seconds. You didn’t even blink when Lan Wangji walked in.”

“Hmph,” Wen Qing smirked. “I’d be surprised if Wei Wuxian’s hands weren’t itching to touch him the whole time.”

At that, Wei Wuxian coughed, looking far too smug. “Well, now that we’re married, I won’t have to hold back anymore, right?”

Lan Wangji stiffened, his hands clenching into his sleeves.

Lan Weiqi gasped dramatically, nudging Lan Shiyun . “Did you hear that? Wei-gongzi is already planning his next move!”

Lan Xichen, though dignified as ever, chuckled softly, his eyes gentle with quiet approval.

Wei Wuxian was about to make another teasing remark when a sudden chill ran down his spine.

Somewhere, amidst the sea of well-wishers, a pair of dark, predatory eyes watched from the shadows.

Wen Xu stood in the crowd, hidden among the guests, his eyes locked onto the delicate figure dressed in red. His hands clenched into fists as he watched Lan Wangji standing beside Wei Wuxian, face veiled, posture poised, radiating an air of untouched beauty. The way Lan Wangji’s wedding robe clung to his slender frame, the way his movements were precise and graceful even when hidden beneath the intricate layers of his bridal attire—it made Wen Xu’s blood boil with dark desire.

He had waited long enough.

For days, he had watched Lan Wangji fall deeper into his control, inhaling the roses he left every night, allowing the spell to seep into his very soul. The once-righteous Second Jade of Lan had unknowingly surrendered a part of himself, and Wen Xu savored every moment of that slow descent. Lan Wangji was still pure, still unaware, still believing himself bound to Wei Wuxian—but that illusion would shatter soon.

Wei Wuxian could celebrate his wedding all he wanted. He could laugh and smile, proud that he had claimed someone as precious as Lan Wangji. But the fool had no idea that his happiness was fleeting. Wei Wuxian could have the ceremony, the vows, the blessings—but Wen Xu would have the wedding night.

The thought sent a surge of dark pleasure through him.

He had planned this meticulously, weaving his influence into Lan Wangji’s subconscious night after night. The rose’s enchantment was subtle, a slow poison of obedience and desire. Every breath Lan Wangji had taken from it had deepened his hold, and soon, Wen Xu would be able to summon him with just a whisper. Tonight, when Wei Wuxian reached out for his so-called husband, he would find nothing but empty sheets.

Because Lan Wangji would already be in his bed.

A smirk curled at Wen Xu’s lips as he imagined it—the shock on Wei Wuxian’s face, the helplessness in his eyes when he realized his beloved Lan Wangji had been taken from him. He could almost hear the disbelief in Wei Wuxian’s voice, the fury, the desperation as he searched for his ‘mate,’ only to find him trembling beneath Wen Xu instead.

Lan Wangji, untouched and pristine, would be his.

Not Wei Wuxian’s.

Not anymore.

His pulse quickened as he imagined the moment he would finally claim what should have always been his. He had watched Lan Wangji from afar, obsessed with the sheer perfection of his existence. Those pale hands, that swan-like neck, the delicate curves of his body hidden beneath layers of robes—every inch of him was meant to be worshiped. And Wen Xu would be the one to do it.

Not Wei Wuxian.

Never Wei Wuxian.

Wen Xu’s nails dug into his palm as he suppressed the urge to stride forward and rip the veil from Lan Wangji’s face. He wanted to see the dazed expression, the way Lan Wangji’s golden eyes—so hauntingly beautiful—would widen in shock before submission took over. He had spent weeks ensuring that by the time this night came, Lan Wangji’s body would respond to him, not his so-called ‘husband.’

He could barely contain his anticipation.

Let them finish their ceremony. Let them exchange vows and bind themselves in meaningless rituals. None of it would matter by dawn.

Because by then, Lan Wangji would be his in every way that counted.

His breathing grew heavier as he imagined the night unfolding. The red robes slipping from Lan Wangji’s shoulders, pooling around him like a fallen rose. The soft gasps as his body trembled under unfamiliar touches. The sheer helplessness that would consume him as Wen Xu claimed him over and over until there was no trace of Wei Wuxian left.

Lan Wangji would be ruined for anyone else.

Wei Wuxian could fight, could rage, could kill as many people as he wanted—but it would be too late. Once Wen Xu had taken Lan Wangji, he would never be able to erase the mark left on him.

Wen Xu licked his lips.

Tonight.

He had waited long enough.

Wei Wuxian could have his victory for now, but when the moon rose high above the Cloud Recesses, it would be Wen Xu who had the real prize.

______________________

The wedding ceremony had ended, but the celebrations still lingered in the air, filling the halls of the Cloud Recesses with laughter and joy. Lanterns glowed softly along the corridors, casting warm golden light as family and friends gathered around the newlywed couple, offering their congratulations and playful teasing.

Lan Wangji stood beside Wei Wuxian, his hand resting lightly within Wei Wuxian’s grip, listening to the well wishes of their loved ones. His veil remained in place, obscuring his face, but his ears burned under the teasing words being thrown in their direction.

Jiang Cheng smirked. “Lan Wangji, you do know what you’re getting into, right? Wei Wuxian is a complete menace. Good luck controlling him.”

Wei Wuxian pouted dramatically. “A-Cheng! Why are you making me sound so bad on my wedding day?”

Nie Huaisang chuckled, waving his fan. “Wei-xiong, we all know you! But I must say, if anyone can handle you, it’s certainly Hanguang-jun.” He turned to Lan Wangji. “Lan Wangji, don’t be too soft on him. Otherwise, he’ll climb all over you.”

Wei Wuxian smirked. “Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do as a husband?”

Lan Wangji’s fingers twitched slightly in his hold, though his expression remained composed. The teasing only intensified.

Jiang Yanli smiled gently. “Wangji, if he ever troubles you too much, come to me. I’ll discipline him for you.”

Wei Wuxian gasped. “Shijie! How could you betray me like this?”

Wen Qing, standing nearby, crossed her arms. “She’s not wrong. We all know you’re an incorrigible flirt, and I doubt you’ll let poor Lan Wangji sleep tonight.”

Wei Wuxian choked on air while Lan Wangji’s ears turned scarlet beneath his veil. The gathered group burst into laughter at Wei Wuxian’s flustered expression.

Soon, Jiang Yanli and Wen Qing stepped forward, taking Lan Wangji’s hand. “It’s time,” Jiang Yanli said warmly. “We’ll guide Wangji to Jingshi now for the final wedding rituals.”

Wei Wuxian blinked. “Wait, why can’t I go with him?”

Lan Weiqi grinned mischievously. “Because tradition, Wei-gongzi! The bride enters first and waits for the groom.”

Wei Wuxian groaned but watched as Lan Wangji was led away, the red veil still covering his beautiful features. The anticipation in his chest grew, his heartbeat quickening as he imagined seeing Lan Wangji alone, without the eyes of the world upon them.

---

Jingshi had been transformed into a chamber fit for a newlywed couple. Soft candlelight flickered, casting warm shadows over the room. The air was filled with the scent of roses and fresh petals, scattered elegantly across the floor and over the large bridal bed, which was adorned with a canopy made of flowers.

Among the decorations, various seeds—symbolizing fertility, happiness, and a long, prosperous marriage—were carefully placed around the room. Every detail had been arranged to bless the couple’s union.

Lan Wangji sat on the edge of the bed, his figure draped in red, the veil still in place. His heart beat steadily, though there was a faint nervousness in the pit of his stomach. Tonight was the final step.

He had spent his entire life upholding duty, suppressing desire, and standing firm in the face of emotions he had once believed were beyond his reach. Yet here he was, married to the one person who had unraveled him completely.

His fingers curled slightly against his lap. Soon, Wei Wuxian would enter.

---

Wei Wuxian stood at the door, glaring at Lan Weiqi and Lan Shiyun, who blocked his path like two mischievous guards.

“Come on, let me in!” Wei Wuxian pleaded. “Lan zhan is waiting for me.”

Lan Shiyun smiled sweetly. “Wei-gongzi, you must follow the custom! If you want to enter, you have to offer us something first.”

Lan Weiqi nodded. “That’s right! How about a gift?”

Wei Wuxian groaned. “Did you two plan this? Fine, fine! Here—this pouch has some rare spiritual herbs, and this fan is from Huaisang. Satisfied?”

Lan Weiqi and Lan Shiyun exchanged amused glances before stepping aside. “Alright, you may enter.”

Wei Wuxian straightened his robes, took a deep breath, and pushed open the door.

---

The moment Wei Wuxian stepped in, he closed the door behind him, sealing them in their private sanctuary. His gaze immediately landed on the beautiful figure seated on the bed.

Lan Wangji, covered in red, waiting for him.

Slowly, Wei Wuxian walked forward and sat beside him, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body. His fingers reached out, hesitating for a moment before he grasped the edges of the veil.

“lan zhan,” he murmured, voice softer than usual. “I’m going to lift this now.”

With deliberate slowness, he removed the veil.

Wei Wuxian felt his breath hitch.

Lan Wangji was breathtaking.

The glow of the candles highlighted his flawless skin, the soft flush on his cheeks, and the way his golden eyes shimmered like liquid gold under the dim lighting. His wedding robes, tight against his body, accentuated his delicate yet refined frame, and his long, ink-black hair cascaded over his shoulders in elegant waves. The jewelry adorning him only enhanced his ethereal beauty.

For the first time in his life, Wei Wuxian was truly speechless.

He reached out instinctively, brushing his fingers lightly along Lan Wangji’s cheek. “You…” His voice was barely above a whisper. “You’re so beautiful.”

Lan Wangji’s lashes fluttered slightly, a deeper flush spreading across his cheeks. He looked away for a moment, clearly affected by the praise.

Wei Wuxian chuckled softly, his heart full. “You always take my breath away, but tonight… I don’t think I’ll ever recover.”

They stayed like that for a moment, drinking in each other’s presence.

Then Wei Wuxian exhaled and smiled. “Come, let’s complete the rituals.”

---

The first step was the binding of their hair—a symbolic act of tying their fates together.

Wei Wuxian took out a small blade and carefully cut a thin strand from his hair, handing the blade to Lan Wangji, who did the same. Then, with delicate precision, they tied the strands together, an unbreakable knot that signified their eternal union.

Next, they moved on to the feeding ritual.

Wei Wuxian took a small bite of the prepared sweets and held the rest to Lan Wangji’s lips. Without hesitation, Lan Wangji took the offering, their fingers brushing in the exchange. Then, Lan Wangji picked up a piece and brought it to Wei Wuxian’s lips.

Their eyes met as Wei Wuxian took the bite.

Lastly, they lifted their ceremonial cups.

Wei Wuxian grinned. “Shall we?”

They crossed their arms, bringing the cups to each other’s lips. Lan Wangji sipped his tea while Wei Wuxian drank his wine, the liquid warm as it slid down his throat.

Unbeknownst to him, the drink had already been altered.

As Wei Wuxian lowered the cup, a strange sensation pricked at his senses—a faint, almost unnoticeable heat spreading through his veins.

But in the warmth of the room, in the glow of candlelight and the presence of Lan Wangji, he paid it no mind.

Tonight was theirs.

___________

The final ritual had been completed. The candlelight flickered softly, casting golden hues against the silk-draped walls of Jingshi. The air was thick with warmth, not only from the lingering scent of roses but from the undeniable intimacy that stretched between the two of them.

Lan Wangji sat before Wei Wuxian, the soft glow of the room reflecting off his skin, making him appear almost ethereal. His long lashes trembled slightly, and the faintest hint of red colored his cheeks. The ceremonial robes fit him perfectly, wrapping around his slender frame in elegant folds of crimson and gold. His lips, soft and delicate, were pressed together as if he were trying to suppress his emotions.

Wei Wuxian smirked, tilting his head as he observed his newly wedded husband. The tips of Lan Wangji’s ears were flushed, a clear sign of his nervousness.

“How come you look even more beautiful now than you did a moment ago?” Wei Wuxian teased, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of Lan Wangji’s hair behind his ear.

Lan Wangji lowered his gaze, his fingers tightening slightly against his lap. “Wei Ying…”

Wei Wuxian grinned. “Why are you so shy? You’re my husband now. Shouldn’t I have the right to admire you as much as I want?”

Lan Wangji’s lips parted slightly as if to argue, but no words came out. Instead, his throat bobbed as he swallowed, his long lashes fluttering against his cheeks.

Wei Wuxian found himself staring, utterly captivated.

The atmosphere shifted—soft, slow, and unbearably tender.

With deliberate care, Wei Wuxian reached out, his fingers sliding gently around Lan Wangji’s waist. The warmth of his body seeped through the layers of fabric, and Wei Wuxian could feel the faint tremor in Lan Wangji’s frame.

“Are you nervous, love?” Wei Wuxian whispered, his breath fanning against Lan Wangji’s cheek.

Lan Wangji’s fingers curled slightly against the fabric of his robe. “N-no.”

Wei Wuxian chuckled. “Lying isn’t allowed between us, you know.”

Lan Wangji’s lips trembled slightly, and the sight sent a wave of heat curling through Wei Wuxian’s chest.

Unable to resist any longer, he leaned forward, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against Lan Wangji’s eyelids.

Lan Wangji inhaled sharply, his fingers twitching against Wei Wuxian’s robe.

Wei Wuxian smiled against his skin, trailing his lips downward. He kissed the bridge of Lan Wangji’s nose, then the soft curve of his cheek, then the other, savoring the warmth of his husband’s skin beneath his lips.

Lan Wangji’s breath came in shallow, uneven puffs. His body tensed, and yet, he didn’t move away.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes fell upon Lan Wangji’s lips—soft, slightly parted, trembling.

His heart pounded.

Slowly, he tilted his head, closing the distance.

His lips brushed against the corner of Lan Wangji’s mouth—a mere whisper of a touch.

And just as he was about to fully capture those trembling lips—

CRASH!

A loud, jarring noise shattered the quiet intimacy.

Lan Wangji flinched. Wei Wuxian’s body tensed as his eyes snapped toward the balcony.

“What the—”

Without hesitation, he pulled away from Lan Wangji and moved toward the balcony, his instincts flaring to life.

As he stepped outside, he scanned the area, his eyes darting across the moonlit courtyard below. The night was still, save for the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze.

Wei Wuxian narrowed his eyes. The air felt strange. Unsettling.

His fingers twitched, reaching for his spiritual energy to extend his senses—but something felt off.

The usual pulse of power that surged through him was faint, sluggish, almost distant.

Wei Wuxian frowned. That was… unusual.

After a moment of scanning the surroundings and finding nothing out of place, he turned back toward the room. “lan zhan, I think—”

His words died in his throat.

Lan Wangji was gone.

The room was empty.

Wei Wuxian’s chest tightened. His gaze snapped to the door—it was still closed.

But the room was sealed from the inside.

A cold chill ran down his spine.

He rushed toward the bed, checking every corner, as if Lan Wangji could be hiding, but the reality was clear.

Lan Wangji had vanished.

“lan zhan?” Wei Wuxian called out, his voice sharp with growing panic.

Silence.

Wei Wuxian clenched his fists. Something was wrong.

His instincts screamed at him, and without hesitation, he summoned his power once more—only to be met with an eerie emptiness.

His spiritual energy—his connection to the world—was completely blocked.

His breath hitched.

“What the hell is going on?”

His mind raced. The last thing he remembered—

The wine.

A sudden realization struck him. The wine he drank during the ritual—it must have been tampered with.

A slow, simmering rage built inside him.

Someone had taken Lan Wangji.

And they had rendered him powerless to stop it.

Wei Wuxian’s fingers dug into the fabric of his robes. His heart pounded with urgency, dread curling in his gut.

Whoever had done this had planned it meticulously.

But what they didn’t know—what they had severely underestimated—was his determination.

He would find Lan Wangji.

And he would make them pay.

He gritted his teeth, attempting again to use his powers—desperation sharp in his veins—but the result was the same. Nothing responded. A paralyzing cold crept up his spine as the truth settled over him like a shroud.

His powers were gone, completely suppressed.

His hand fell to his sword, but his fingers trembled as they closed around the hilt. It felt heavier than usual, distant—as if it no longer belonged to him.

Then the dizziness hit. A sudden, sickening wave that made the room spin in front of his eyes. The lantern light warped and blurred, flickering like ghosts in a storm. He pressed his hand to his temple, shaking his head as if sheer willpower could banish the fog creeping over his mind.

He staggered back, his shoulder crashing against the cold wall. He tried to focus, to think, to move. He had to get to Lan Wangji. He had to find him, protect him. There was no time to lose—not when danger was closing in from all sides. Not when Lan Zhan could be...

No. Focus.

Wei Wuxian clenched his jaw, forcing himself forward, step by agonizing step. His body was losing the fight, but his will hadn’t yet surrendered. He could still—he had to—

The floor tilted.

His knees buckled.

The world tilted with him, sound warping into a high-pitched ringing. He barely managed a final, strangled breath before the darkness pulled him under.

His body hit the floor with a soft thud.

And in the heavy silence that followed, Wei Wuxian lay still—unconscious, powerless, and unaware of the danger Lan Wangji was about to face alone.

____________________

As Wei Wuxian stepped onto the balcony, Lan Wangji felt his heartbeat still racing from the earlier moment. The soft warmth of Wei Wuxian’s touch lingered on his skin, the ghost of his teasing words and affectionate kisses sending shivers down his spine. His trembling lips parted slightly as he pressed his fingertips against them, his mind replaying the sensation of Wei Wuxian’s closeness—the way his breath had fanned over his face, the way his hand had found its place on his waist as if it belonged there.

Lan Wangji had prepared himself for this night in every way possible. He knew the customs, knew the rituals they had performed, knew what would come after. But no preparation could have steadied his heart against the raw tenderness Wei Wuxian had just shown him. Heat spread across his cheeks again, and he quickly lowered his gaze, attempting to regain control of his emotions.

Then—

A whisper.

Soft, faint, and chillingly intimate.

"Lan Wangji..."

His entire body stiffened. The voice curled around his name like a lover’s murmur, low and seductive, seeping into his very bones.

"Come."

His head jerked up, his golden eyes widening slightly. He turned to glance at Wei Wuxian, but his husband was still outside, oblivious to the eerie call.

"Come to me, Lan Wangji..."

The voice was closer now, whispering against the shell of his ear like a phantom’s breath. A slow, hazy sensation spread through his mind, wrapping around his thoughts like tendrils of mist. His pulse slowed, his pupils dilating as the words dug deeper into him.

Lan Wangji’s body swayed slightly. His breathing turned shallow, and without realizing it, he took a step forward.

He didn’t know where he was going.

He only knew that he had to go.

The whisper guided him, its allure irresistible. The world around him faded—Wei Wuxian’s presence, the warmth of the candlelit room, the soft rustle of his wedding robes. None of it mattered. The voice was all that existed.

His feet carried him across the room, his movements slow, dreamlike. The whisper wrapped around him, stroking the edges of his consciousness like gentle fingers lulling him into submission. His lips parted slightly, his breath uneven.

Then his eyes landed on the mirror.

It stood in the far corner of the room, unassuming, a simple polished glass framed in dark wood. Yet, under the flickering candlelight, something about it seemed wrong. The surface rippled—just barely, like the disturbed surface of water—shimmering faintly with an unnatural glow.

"Come to me, beloved."

Lan Wangji’s fingers twitched at his sides. He reached out without thinking, drawn forward by an invisible force.

His fingertips brushed the cool surface—

A sudden pull.

The mirror swallowed him whole.

A silent ripple spread across the glass as if the world had just consumed him, and then—nothing. The room was empty.

____________________

Wen Xu stood in the shadows of the balcony, concealed by the dark enchantments he had painstakingly prepared for weeks. His smirk widened as he watched Wei Wuxian step forward to investigate the sudden noise outside. It was almost laughable how easy it had been to manipulate the so-called jiang clan son .His arrogance, his confidence—it would all be his downfall.

A slow, satisfied chuckle rumbled in Wen Xu’s throat. Everything had fallen perfectly into place.

Lan Wangji had stepped into his realm.

His gaze flickered toward the mirror that had swallowed the delicate figure whole. It gleamed faintly under the candlelight, a portal to a world crafted solely for the two of them. No interruptions, no righteous brothers or meddling lovers. Just him and Lan Wangji, bound together by fate—or rather, by Wen Xu’s design.

His heartbeat quickened at the mere thought. He had waited far too long for this moment.

From the very first time he laid eyes on Lan Wangji, Wen Xu had known he had to have him. Those piercing golden eyes, the way his soft lips remained pressed into a firm, stubborn line, the way his robes clung to his perfectly sculpted body while still maintaining an air of untouchable dignity—it was intoxicating. Infuriating. Lan Wangji was too pure, too righteous, too perfect. And it enraged Wen Xu to his very core that someone like Wei Wuxian dared to claim him.

Wei Wuxian.

The mere thought of that man had Wen Xu’s face twisting in disgust. That loud, shameless, and insufferable fool who had captured Lan Wangji’s attention, his admiration, his affection. He had seen it. The way Lan Wangji’s gaze softened when it landed on Wei Wuxian. The way his icy exterior melted just enough to reveal the warm devotion hidden beneath.

It was unbearable.

It should have been him.

He clenched his fists. No matter. Wei Wuxian could have his little moments of triumph. Let him smile, let him rejoice in his marriage, let him bask in the delusion that he had won.

It would only make his devastation all the sweeter.

A shiver of pleasure coursed through Wen Xu at the thought. The moment Wei Wuxian discovered that his precious husband was gone, stolen away right from under his nose, his despair would be delicious. Wen Xu could already picture it—the way Wei Wuxian’s smirk would vanish, the way panic would twist his face, the helplessness in his eyes as he realized that for all his power, for all his cunning, he had lost.

And Wen Xu?

He would be the one to break Lan Wangji.

He would take his time, stripping away every ounce of defiance, every last shred of dignity. It would be beautiful. The world had long revered Lan Wangji as the untouchable Second Jade of Lan, a being of purity and discipline. But Wen Xu would make him his. He would replace those proud, icy glares with hazy, desperate ones. He would replace those composed, disciplined movements with trembling, yielding ones.

Lan Wangji would resist at first. He would glare, he would struggle, he would try to fight back with all the discipline and stubborn pride he had been raised with.

But it wouldn’t last.

Wen Xu had waited for this moment. Had planned for it.

By the time the night was over, Lan Wangji’s pride would be shattered. His body would no longer belong to himself, his purity would be tainted, his mind broken beneath Wen Xu’s touch.

He licked his lips.

"You don’t belong to him, Lan Wangji. You never did."

A dark, twisted heat coiled in his stomach as he imagined Lan Wangji looking up at him with pleading eyes, his voice trembling, his body aching for something only Wen Xu could grant him.

And the best part?

It wouldn’t just be about pleasure. No, Wen Xu had far grander ambitions than mere indulgence.

Lan Wangji’s blood was special—his very existence was woven with ancient, divine energy. Wen Ruohan had always been obsessed with using that power to ascend the throne, to claim ultimate dominion. But Wen Xu had discovered something better.

Why waste such a rare, precious being by simply sacrificing him?

Why waste that perfect body, that boundless energy, when he could have it all?

The power of the throne was not just in Lan Wangji’s blood—it was in his very essence. His purity, his strength, his untouched divinity. And the best way to claim that power was not through death, but through domination.

Absorbing Lan Wangji’s essence through continuous means would grant him power far beyond what Wen Ruohan could ever dream of. Every breath Lan Wangji took, every heartbeat, every shudder—Wen Xu would take it all. Day after day, night after night, he would devour him, drain him, consume him, until all that purity, all that power, belonged solely to him.

Wen Ruohan thought he could rule the world.

But Wen Xu would surpass him.

He would carve his own throne, and at his side, he would keep the most exquisite treasure of all.

Lan Wangji would belong to him.

Forever.

His breath grew heavier with anticipation.

Soon.

So very soon.

He took one last glance at Wei Wuxian, still obliviously standing on the balcony, calling out into the darkness in search of the source of the disturbance. He was wasting his time. Lan Wangji was already gone, beyond his reach.

A cruel smirk stretched across Wen Xu’s lips.

"Enjoy your victory while you can, Wei Wuxian."

"Because tonight, Lan Wangji will spend his wedding night in my arms."

With that final, twisted thought, Wen Xu turned and melted into the shadows, vanishing into his realm—the place where Lan Wangji awaited him.

Chapter Text

Lan Wangji’s breath came in quiet, shallow puffs as he stood in the middle of the unfamiliar room, his fingers tightening around the sleeves of his wedding robes. The air was thick with an unfamiliar, cloying scent—sickly sweet, oppressive. It made his stomach twist uncomfortably, as if something unseen was pressing down on him, trying to smother him.

The room itself was enormous, larger than anything he had ever seen, its extravagance bordering on suffocating. The walls were lined with intricate carvings, illuminated by the flickering glow of lanterns hanging from golden fixtures. The ceiling was high, domed, almost ethereal in its beauty. The floor beneath his feet was cool, polished, and stretched out endlessly.

But the bed—the bed was the most unsettling of all.

It was massive, far too large for a single person, draped in deep crimson silk that shimmered under the dim light. Rose petals were scattered across its surface, their scent mingling with the heavy perfume that permeated the air. The bedposts were wrapped in sheer, flowing curtains, tied back as if expecting someone to enter at any moment.

Lan Wangji shivered, taking an instinctive step backward.

This was not Jingshi.

His mind struggled to comprehend how he had ended up here. Just moments ago, he had been sitting on his bed in Jingshi, waiting for Wei Ying to return. He had felt flustered, anxious—his heart pounding in his chest as he recalled Wei Ying’s soft kisses, the warmth of his hands. His lips still tingled from the ghost of Wei Ying’s touch.

But now…

Lan Wangji turned sharply, scanning the room for any sign of a way out. He had to leave. Something was deeply wrong.

His breath hitched when he noticed movement in the farthest part of the room—a shadow shifting in the dim light. The corner was darker than the rest, shrouded in an unnatural gloom. Something was there.

Lan Wangji stiffened, his entire body tensing in alarm.

Then, without warning, a bright flash of light illuminated the space.

Lan Wangji instinctively raised a hand to shield his eyes. The light was blinding, searing for just a brief moment, and then—it vanished.

And in its place stood a tall figure.

A man.

An Alpha.

Lan Wangji’s breath caught in his throat.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Cloaked in dark red robes with gold embellishments, his long black hair tied loosely, framing his sharp face. His deep-set eyes gleamed with something unreadable—something that sent an immediate wave of unease through Lan Wangji’s body.

The man was smiling at him.

A slow, deliberate smile, filled with an unsettling kind of amusement.

Lan Wangji's breath hitched. His instincts screamed at him—danger.

He took an involuntary step back as the man started moving toward him. His pace was slow, unhurried, but there was a kind of hunger in his gaze that made Lan Wangji feel exposed—like prey caught in a predator's sights.

The way the man’s eyes roamed over him made Lan Wangji’s stomach churn. He hated it. He had never felt so watched before—so thoroughly devoured by someone’s gaze.

His fingers twitched as he forced himself to stay calm. His voice was firm, but there was an unmistakable tremor in it when he asked,

“Who are you?”

The man chuckled—a low, pleased sound, as if he had been expecting this question.

“Ah,” he mused, tilting his head, “such a sweet voice. Even your fear is beautiful.”

Lan Wangji’s stomach twisted at the words, but he held his ground. His jaw tightened. He refused to show weakness.

The man’s smirk widened. He took another slow step forward.

"You do not need to worry, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice dripping with mock tenderness. "We have the whole night to know each other—very closely.”

The deliberate emphasis made Lan Wangji’s breath catch. A surge of panic clawed at his chest. His heart thundered violently.

Instinctively, he took another step backward. His gaze darted around the room, looking for an escape.

“Why—why have you brought me here?” he demanded.

The man laughed—a slow, pleased laugh that sent a shiver of disgust down Lan Wangji’s spine.

His dark eyes glowed with satisfaction. “Where else would you be, if not with your Alpha on your wedding night?”
Lan Wangji froze.

Wedding… night?

Wen Xu’s lips curled as he took another step forward, tilting his head. "Tell me, little one, what kind of Omega leaves their Alpha waiting on their wedding night?"

Lan Wangji flinched.

"What—" His hands curled into fists at his sides. "You are not my Alpha."

Lan Wangji’s body stiffened. His mind reeled.

Wei Ying—Wei Ying was his Alpha!

Something snapped inside him at the sheer audacity of the words. His trembling hands clenched into fists. His voice, though shaken, came out firm.

“You are mistaken,” he said sharply. “My Alpha is Wei Ying.”

The moment he uttered those words, the man’s expression darkened. The amusement vanished.
Something in Wen Xu’s expression flickered—an ugly shadow of rage, gone as quickly as it came. But when he spoke again, his voice was smooth, deceptively gentle.

"That’s where you’re mistaken, sweetheart," he said, licking his lips. "Wei Wuxian might be your husband, but an Alpha? No." His voice dropped into something softer, almost coaxing. "But don’t worry. That will change soon. Tonight, I’ll make sure you understand."

Lan Wangji’s breath shuddered.

He stepped back again, this time more frantically, his heart pounding against his ribs. His entire body screamed at him to run.

Lan Wangji’s chest tightened with rising dread. He took another step back, edging toward the door.

The man continued, his voice dark and dripping with satisfaction, “After tonight, you will understand. Once you have spent the night with me, you will belong to me—only me.”

Lan Wangji’s stomach turned. No. No, no.

His hands trembled, but he forced himself to keep moving—slowly, carefully.

His golden eyes flickered toward the door. If he could just reach it—if he could just escape—

Run.

The instinct screamed at him.

The man’s voice was still thick with sickening certainty. “By the time the sun rises, Wei Wuxian will mean nothing to you. You will see, sweetheart. Your body, your soul—they will crave me.”

Lan Wangji felt sick. Disgust. Fear. Rage. All of it twisted inside him.

His fingers grazed the cold handle of the door. Without a second thought, he turned it and bolted.

The door swung open, and he stumbled into the unknown corridor. He ran.

Behind him, the man’s dark laughter echoed through the air.

“Ah, how entertaining this is,” the voice purred. “Run, my sweet. Run as much as you want—but you will never escape me.”

Lan Wangji’s pulse roared in his ears as he sprinted blindly through the endless halls. The corridors stretched infinitely, the walls shifting like a nightmare maze. The air itself felt thick, pressing down on him, pulling at his limbs as if trying to slow him down.

But he did not stop.

He had to escape. He had to get back to Wei Ying.

As he turned a corner, his heart pounded with frantic desperation. He could still hear the laughter behind him—mocking, taunting.

Lan Wangji’s eyes burned with determination.

No matter what, he would not fall into that man’s hands.

.

Behind him, Wen Xu’s voice echoed—low, velvety, filled with cruel amusement.

"You’ll never escape me, sweetheart."

Lan Wangji’s heart pounded.

Wei Ying.

Wei Ying, where are you?

__________

Lan Wangji ran.

His breath came in short, sharp gasps, his chest heaving under the weight of his elaborate bridal robes. The golden embroidery glistened under the eerie moonlight, a stark contrast to the suffocating darkness surrounding him. His veil had long since slipped off, his once-pristine hair now a mess of loose strands clinging to his damp forehead.

The courtyard stretched endlessly before him, an expanse of blood-red petals swirling at his feet with every desperate step he took. No matter how much he ran, the towering walls enclosing him remained the same. There was no exit.

Lan Wangji’s mind raced. How is this possible? Where am I?

He had counted five courtyards by now, each identical to the last. The air smelled sweet—too sweet. A cloying scent of red roses that only seemed to grow thicker with every breath he took. The scent had been there from the moment he arrived, but now it curled into his senses like a snake, wrapping around him, pressing against his skin like an invisible hand.

His muscles ached. His steps faltered. He was growing tired.

But his will remained unshaken.

Wei Ying is waiting for me. I must not stop.

His golden eyes burned with defiance as he forced himself to keep moving. The heavy robes weighed him down, each intricate layer a cruel reminder of why he was here. His wedding attire—once meant to be a symbol of his union with Wei Wuxian—now felt like a prison, a cruel joke crafted by the hands of his captor.

Lan Wangji pushed forward, his pulse pounding in his ears. He could feel something—someone—watching him. The sensation prickled against his skin, cold and possessive, making the fine hairs at the nape of his neck stand on end.

Then—

His foot caught on the trailing hem of his robes.

The world tilted.

Lan Wangji fell.

His knees hit the stone floor, the impact jolting up his spine. His palms scraped against the rough ground, but the pain was insignificant compared to the sheer frustration coursing through him.

Gritting his teeth, he slowly pushed himself upright. His vision spun for a moment before settling, and when he looked up—

His breath caught in his throat.

A door loomed before him.

Massive. Ominous. It hadn’t been there before, and yet now it stood wide open, revealing nothing but a thick, suffocating darkness beyond its threshold.

Then—

A figure emerged.

Lan Wangji’s stomach twisted into knots. His heart pounded violently against his ribs

The man stepped forward, slow and deliberate, his dark robes blending into the shadows behind him. His eyes gleamed with amusement, his lips curving into a predatory smile.

"How entertaining," Wen Xu mused, his voice smooth and taunting. "I must say, watching you struggle has been more enjoyable than I anticipated."

Lan Wangji’s jaw clenched. He said nothing. He refused to give this man the satisfaction of a reaction.

Wen Xu continued to advance, his every movement exuding dominance, possession. The way he looked at Lan Wangji made his skin crawl—like a hunter eyeing its prey, savoring the moment before the kill.

"Don’t be angry, sweetheart," Wen Xu purred, tilting his head. "I’ve waited for this night for so long. Surely, you can forgive me for getting a little… desperate.”

Lan Wangji’s hands curled into fists. Disgusting.

His mind screamed at him to move, to run, but his body was still exhausted from his desperate attempts to escape. His breath came in uneven pants, his legs trembling under him.

Wen Xu stopped just a few steps away, his dark eyes raking over Lan Wangji's form with undisguised hunger.

"You have your whole life to play this little game of escaping," he murmured, taking another step closer. "But for tonight, I think you should stop struggling, don’t you?"

Lan Wangji’s body tensed. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to flee, but his limbs felt sluggish—his muscles heavy. The scent of roses was stronger than before, invading his senses, clouding his mind.

Wen Xu’s voice dropped to a whisper, sending a shiver of revulsion down Lan Wangji’s spine.

"You have no idea how irresistible you are," he murmured, his gaze dark with want. "And now, dressed in your wedding robes, looking so utterly perfect… You’re making it very difficult for me to wait any longer."

Lan Wangji’s stomach twisted with nausea. His entire being recoiled at the words.

"Come to me," Wen Xu ordered, his voice low, commanding. "Like a good Omega."

Lan Wangji froze.

His pulse roared in his ears. No.

His body shouldn’t move. He wouldn’t allow it.

And yet—

His feet stepped forward.

His breath caught in his throat. No. No. No.

He tried to stop. Tried to pull away. His mind screamed at him to run, but his body—his traitorous body—was moving on its own.

A surge of raw panic overtook him. His fingers twitched at his sides, but he couldn’t lift them. His legs refused to obey his will.

His body—his very being—was under Wen Xu’s control.

Lan Wangji’s eyes widened in horror. This isn’t normal. This wasn’t just an Alpha’s presence overwhelming him—this was something more sinister.

And then, it clicked.

The roses.

The scent that had lingered in his room for weeks. The subtle pull he had ignored, the occasional dizziness, the moments where his limbs had felt heavier than they should have. It was never just the fragrance of flowers.

It was a spell.

Wen Xu had been poisoning him for weeks.

Lan Wangji’s mind reeled. How had he not noticed? How could he have been so careless?

Before he could even process the revelation, he found himself standing directly in front of Wen Xu.

The man exhaled slowly, his breath warm against Lan Wangji’s cheek. His dark eyes devoured him, drinking in every inch of his form.

"Beautiful," Wen Xu murmured.

Then, without warning, his arms wrapped around Lan Wangji’s waist.

Lan Wangji flinched violently, his heart hammering against his ribs as Wen Xu pulled him close.

"Let go," Lan Wangji hissed through gritted teeth.

Wen Xu chuckled. "Now, now. Don’t be difficult."

With terrifying ease, he lifted Lan Wangji into his arms.

Lan Wangji’s stomach dropped. His struggles were useless—the spell had sapped him of his strength. His limbs refused to move as Wen Xu carried him effortlessly, his grip firm and possessive.

No. No. NO.

Wen Xu strode toward the room, his voice laced with triumph. "You belong to me now."

Lan Wangji lay helpless in his arms. His mind screamed for Wei Wuxian. Wei Ying. Wei Ying.

They reached the enormous bed. Wen Xu deposited him onto the soft sheets, his movements slow and deliberate.

Lan Wangji shivered in revulsion as Wen Xu’s dark gaze raked over him.

“ Wei ying , where are you?”

#####_______________########

"You're not going anywhere," Wen Xu said with a smirk as he watched Lan Wangji's body go limp. The struggle had drained him completely. Lan Wangji's eyes were wide with horror, his mind racing to find a way out of this nightmare.

He felt himself being hoisted up, and suddenly, he was in the air, his feet dangling. The world spun around him as Wen Xu held him tightly, the fabric of his robe digging into his skin. The room was a blur of colors, and his heart hammered in his chest like a drum at a festival.

Lan Wangji’s mind was a tornado of panic, desperately searching for any way to break free. But his body was a traitor, refusing to respond to his commands. It was as if he were made of water, sloshing about in Wen Xu’s arms, unable to form a coherent thought or action. The room grew closer, the door loomed before them, and the cold fear in his stomach solidified into a block of ice.

Wen Xu’s footsteps echoed through the corridor, each one a thunderclap to Lan Wangji’s racing heart. He could feel the warmth of the other man’s breath on his neck, a stark contrast to the icy grip of fear that had taken hold of him. Lan Wangji’s eyes darted around, trying to find anything that could be of use, but all he saw was the unchanging stone and the flickering candlelight that threw eerie shadows on the walls.

The room grew closer, the door an impenetrable barrier of darkness that seemed to pulse with malicious intent. Lan Wangji’s mind screamed for his body to respond—to fight, to do anything—but his muscles remained limp, his energy depleted by the potent spell. Wen Xu’s words echoed in his mind, a taunting mantra that only served to fuel his desperation. His struggles were useless—the spell had sapped him of his strength. His limbs refused to move as Wen Xu carried him effortlessly, his grip firm and possessive.

Wen Xu’s steps were swift and confident, as if he’d done this a hundred times before. Lan Wangji could feel the warmth of the other man’s body, his chest rising and falling with each step. The corridor was a blur of stone and shadows.

The door to the room creaked open, and the chilly air within sent a shiver down Lan Wangji’s spine. Wen Xu’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into the fabric of Lan Wangji’s robe, leaving bruises that would surely form in the shape of his knuckles. Lan Wangji’s eyes searched the space for an escape, for a weapon, for anything that could break the spell.

The room was dimly lit by a single candle, casting a flickering glow that danced across the walls. In the center stood a large four-poster bed, the covers a chaotic jumble of silk and velvet. Lan Wangji’s eyes widened further, and his heart pounded like a war drum in his chest. No, this couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t be here, not like this.

Wen Xu’s footsteps grew louder on the cold stone floor, and Lan Wangji felt the bedpost hit the back of his legs. He was set down none too gently on the soft mattress, his body bouncing slightly from the impact. The smell of sandalwood and something darker—something forbidden—filled the space around him. Wen Xu’s hands were still on him, his touch burning through the layers of fabric that separated them.

Lan Wangji’s eyes searched the room in a panic, trying to find a glimmer of hope. But all he saw were shadows playing tricks on his exhausted mind.

"What do you want from me?" he croaked out, his voice barely above a whisper.

Wen Xu chuckled darkly, a sound that sent a shiver down Lan Wangji's spine. "You know what I want."

The mattress sank beneath their combined weight as Wen Xu settled Lan Wangji onto the bed. The silk sheets whispered against his skin, a cold caress that only served to highlight the stark reality of his predicament. Lan Wangji's eyes darted around the room, searching for anything that could serve as a means of escape or defense. His mind raced, trying to formulate a plan, but every thought was a jumbled mess, tangled by the fear that held him in its grip.

Wen Xu hovered over him, a shadow looming in the candlelight. His eyes gleamed with a hunger that Lan Wangji didn't dare name, and his breath was hot against the shell of Lan Wangji's ear. "You're mine," he murmured, the words sending a wave of revulsion through Lan Wangji's body.

The mattress dipped further as Wen Xu leaned closer, his hands moving to untie Lan Wangji's sash. Lan Wangji's heart stuttered in his chest, his eyes squeezing shut. He could feel the heat of Wen Xu's fingers as they deftly worked at the knot. The room spun around him, a whirlwind of panic and despair.

This couldn't be happening. Not to him. Not like this.

Wen Xu's voice was a sultry whisper in his ear, "You're so beautiful when you fight, but it's time to rest now." Lan Wangji felt the sash loosen and fall away. He tried to clutch at the fabric of his outer robe, trying to hold onto something—anything—that was still his. The fabric slipped away, exposing his neck to the cool air. He trembled, his body betraying his fear.

Wen Xu leaned closer, his breath hot and moist against Lan Wangji's skin. He could feel the weight of the man's desire, a crushing force that made it hard to breathe. Lan Wangji's eyes remained closed, willing the world to swallow him whole. He was acutely aware of every touch, every brush of fabric against his skin, every beat of his racing heart.

The bed dipped further as Wen Xu climbed onto it, his body pressing against Lan Wangji's. The mattress groaned in protest, a sound that mimicked Lan Wangji's own silent scream. He could feel the heat radiating from the other man, a stark contrast to the coldness that had seeped into his bones.

He wished for the strength to push him away—to fight back with everything he had.

Wen Xu's hand slid up Lan Wangji's arm, sending a shiver through his body. He wanted to flinch, to pull away, but his muscles remained unresponsive to his commands. The hand stopped at the base of his neck, gently turning his face toward him. Lan Wangji's eyes snapped open, and he stared into the abyss that was Wen Xu's gaze, searching for any sign of humanity, any hint of mercy.

But all he found was darkness.

"You’re mine," Wen Xu repeated, his voice a seductive purr that made Lan Wangji's skin crawl. He leaned in closer, his lips a hair's breadth from Lan Wangji's. Lan Wangji could feel the warmth of his breath, smell the faint scent of alcohol on it. His eyes searched the room again, looking for anything that could help him.

But the room was empty, devoid of any potential weapons or escape routes. The candle on the bedside table cast a flickering light that danced in Wen Xu's eyes, making them seem like twin pools of dark flame.

Lan Wangji felt himself being pushed back against the pillows, the softness offering no protection from the hardness of the man above him. His mind raced, trying to remember any spell or technique that could counteract the paralysis, but the panic had turned his thoughts to mush.

Wen Xu’s hand cupped his face, thumb stroking his cheek in a way that was both gentle and possessive.

Lan Wangji’s eyes filled with unshed tears, his chest tightening as he tried to hold in his sobs.

"You shouldn’t fight it," Wen Xu murmured, his voice a seduction wrapped in velvet. "It’ll be easier for you if you just accept it."

Lan Wangji’s mind reeled with denial and anger. He focused on his breath, willing his body to respond—to resist. The candlelight cast flickering shadows across Wen Xu’s face, twisting his features into a monstrous grin. Lan Wangji’s eyes narrowed, his teeth gritting in defiance.

He would not accept this.

He could not.

Suddenly, a powerful gust of wind tore through the room, sending the candles flickering wildly. The flames danced and leaped, casting grotesque shadows across the walls and ceiling.

Lan Wangji’s eyes shot open, the sudden shift piercing the fog of fear that clouded his thoughts. The candle flames grew erratic, a fiery dance that threw the room into chaos.

Wen Xu paused, his hand hovering over Lan Wangji’s robe. He looked up, momentarily distracted by the sudden disturbance. The wind howled, sending dust motes spiraling through the air like a swarm of angry spirits. The candles on the bedside table wavered, the flame threatening to go out.

Lan Wangji’s heart skipped a beat, a spark of hope igniting in his chest.

Could this be his chance?

The shadows danced erratically across Wen Xu’s face, contorting his features into something monstrous. He glanced at the flickering candles, a frown marring his perfect features. For a moment, his grip on Lan Wangji’s chin loosened, and the world around them was bathed in the erratic light.

Lan Wangji could feel the energy of the room shift, the very air charged with something beyond just his fear.

He watched as the candles guttered and nearly went out, the shadows growing longer, more sinister. The wind grew stronger, knocking over the candle on the bedside table. The flame sputtered and died, plunging the room into darkness.

For a brief moment, Lan Wangji felt the pressure on his body lift.

But Wen Xu was not so easily deterred.

He chuckled, the sound sending chills down Lan Wangji's spine.

"How dramatic," he said, his voice a low rumble in the dark.

The candles on the opposite side of the room flared back to life, their flames casting a sickly green hue across the chamber. The air thickened with the scent of burnt wax and something else—something that made the hair on the back of Lan Wangji's neck stand on end.

Wen Xu leaned back in, his eyes glinting in the unnatural light.

Lan Wangji's body remained unresponsive, a marionette with cut strings.

The wind howled outside the window, rattling the panes in their frames, but the room remained eerily still. The only movement was the rise and fall of Wen Xu's chest as he breathed in the scent of fear that clung to Lan Wangji like a second skin.

As Wen Xu reached for the sash of Lan Wangji's second robe once more, the wind grew more insistent, slamming into the room with a ferocity that sent the candles into a frenzy. The flames shot up and danced, throwing wild shadows across the walls, painting the room in a macabre masquerade of light and dark.

Lan Wangji's eyes, still wide with terror, searched the room for salvation, for anything that could break the spell that held him captive.

The sudden chaos of the wind was a lifeline, and he grasped at it with the last of his dwindling hope.

He focused all his will into the power that lay dormant within him—the power of his own inner light, the power of righteousness and justice that was the legacy of his clan.

With a roar that was more spirit than sound, Lan Wangji's eyes flared a brilliant blue, and a burst of energy surged through his body.

The wind outside the room grew fiercer in response, as if it too had been waiting for his call.

The candles on the dresser were knocked over, and the flames danced across the floor, lighting the room with an unearthly glow.

Wen Xu’s hand stilled on Lan Wangji’s sash, his eyes widening with surprise.

Lan Wangji felt the spell’s grip on his body loosen—just enough for him to suck in a desperate breath.

The flames from the candles grew taller, reaching out like fiery fingers to lick at the hem of Wen Xu’s robe.

With a snarl of frustration, Wen Xu stood up, pulling Lan Wangji with him. The sudden movement sent a fresh wave of dizziness crashing over him, and he had to clutch at the bedpost to keep from collapsing. The room was alive with shadows, the wind playing tag with the candlelight, casting a chaotic tableau across the floor.

Wen Xu's eyes searched the room, his grip on Lan Wangji's robe tightening.

"What trick is this?" he snarled, his voice a low growl that seemed to echo in the sudden stillness that followed the gust.

Lan Wangji’s eyes remained closed, his breathing shallow.

He had to keep the other man distracted—had to give his body a chance to regain some semblance of control.

The wind grew stronger, the candles on the dresser toppling over, their flames reaching out like living things seeking to escape the confines of their wax prisons. The room grew darker, the shadows dancing and twisting around them like specters in a nightmare.

Wen Xu's hand paused, his eyes narrowing as he searched for the source of the disturbance.

Lan Wangji felt the spell's grip on him weaken further, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead.

The candles on the floor caught the edge of the rug, and in an instant, it was alight. The flames grew, licking at the hem of the curtains, reaching up to kiss the wooden bed frame.

Wen Xu's eyes flicked to the fire, his expression one of annoyance rather than fear. He was too focused on his prize to be deterred by something as trivial as a mere fire.

With a wave of his hand, the flames shrank, retreating into themselves like a creature cowed by its master.

The room grew brighter again, the green light pulsing with the intensity of his power.

Lan Wangji felt a flicker of anger, his spirit refusing to be cowed.

He had to act.

He had to stop this.

Wen Xu’s hand paused, his gaze flickering to the candles before returning to Lan Wangji. The hunger in his eyes had grown—a wild beast that had scented its prey.

"Your will is strong," he said, his voice a purr of admiration. "But it won’t be enough."

Lan Wangji’s eyes remained squeezed shut, his jaw clenched with determination. The flames from the candles danced around them, casting a kaleidoscope of shadows across the room. He could feel the power of his own will straining against the confines of the spell, like a caged dragon desperate to break free.

Wen Xu’s eyes narrowed in fascination as he studied Lan Wangji’s reaction.

Lan Wangji's chest heaved with the effort of maintaining his inner light, the fire of his spirit burning brighter in the face of the encroaching darkness. He knew he couldn't hold on much longer.

But the thought of giving up was as unbearable as the touch of Wen Xu’s hand on his skin.

His breath came in short, shallow gasps as his fingers curled into tight fists at his sides.

The air around him thickened, an invisible force trying to hold him back.

Yet he focused inward, gathering every ounce of his qi and willpower into a single point. His body was a coiled spring, ready to unleash the power that lay dormant within.

With a sudden burst of energy, he flung his arms apart, his sleeves billowing like wings.

The incantation that had been playing in his mind grew louder, resonating through the very fabric of the room.

The spell that had held him captive began to crackle and distort, as if it were a fragile glass sculpture being crushed by an invisible hand.

The pressure lessened, and the colors of the world grew brighter, more vivid, as the confines of the enchantment started to fall away.

The moment the last shackles of the spell snapped, Lan wangji's eyes shot open, revealing irises that gleamed with a fierce, almost otherworldly light. He saw Wen Xu before him, the smug expression on his face faltering as he realized his opponent was free. Lan wang ji hand shot out, his fingers aimed at the core of Wen Xu's chest. A surge of power pulsed through the air, and with a sound like a clap of thunder, Wen Xu was thrown back with such force that he smashed into the stone floor, his body skidding across the ground.

Ignoring the dust that clouded the room, Lan wangji pulled himself away from the bed and immediately held his open hanging outer robe closed with his hands. The fabric had been opened by wen xu, and he felt the cool evening air brush against his skin, a stark contrast to the warmth that had been trapped within the spell's confines. He took a step forward, each movement precise and deliberate. His heart hammered in his chest, a mix of anger and relief coursing through his veins. He had to maintain control, for any sign of weakness now could be his downfall.
He stumbled towards the door, his legs still unsteady from the spell. The fire crackled and popped behind him, the heat a living, breathing entity that seemed to follow his every move. Wen Xu was on his feet again, his eyes flashing with anger. Lan Wangji knew he couldn’t outrun the man, not in his current state, so he did the only thing he could think of.

With a roar that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul, he unfurled his sleeves, letting the fiery fabric of his wedding robe billow out like the wings of a phoenix. The flames on the rug rushed towards him, eager to consume him, but instead, they parted around him like a river around a boulder. The heat was intense, but Lan Wangji felt a strange sense of comfort, of power, as the fire obeyed his will.

Wen Xu watched in amazement. His smirk had faded, replaced by something akin to respect. But the look in his eyes was still predatory, and Lan Wangji knew he had to act fast.

Wen Xu took a step towards him, a dark smile playing on his lips as he licked the blood from the corner of his mouth.

"Your strength is surprising," he said, his voice low and filled with a newfound respect. "But it won't save you from me."

The fire in the room grew more intense, the flames licking the air with a hungry desperation. Lan Wangji's eyes searched the room, looking for any means of escape, any weapon he could use to fight back. The fabric of his wedding robe was warm against his skin, almost comforting in the face of the impending doom.

With a sudden burst of strength, Lan Wangji summoned his sword and lunged at Wen Xu . His arms outstretched, the fiery sleeves of his robe trailing behind him like the wings of a vengeful spirit. His eyes were filled with a fury that had never been seen before, his teeth bared in a snarl of defiance. He had to fight, had to resist the darkness that sought to claim him.

But Wen Xu was faster. With a twirl of his own sleeve, he sent a gust of wind that knocked Lan Wangji off his feet and his sword reached wen xu hand . The fire raged around them, the heat intense and suffocating, but Wen Xu remained untouched, a testament to his own power. Lan Wangji landed hard on the ground, the wind knocked out of him. The room was spinning, the fire's embrace closing in.

He looked up to see Wen Xu standing over him, his eyes now filled with true anger for the first time. "You dare," he spat, his voice a low growl. Lan Wangji's heart pounded in his chest, but he didn’t dare move. He knew that if he did, it would be the last thing he ever did.

With a swiftness that belied his earlier casual demeanor Wen Xu used his power and the sword burst into various pieces scattering all over the room. Wen xu grabbed Lan Wangji's wrist, twisting it painfully. Lan Wangji cried out. Wen Xu's grip tightened, the heat from the flames around them seemingly enhancing his strength. He pulled Lan Wangji to his feet, his eyes never leaving the younger man's face.

"You think you can fight me? This is my realm , no one can beat me here ., i am unparalleled ’ Wen Xu sneered, the flames of the room reflecting in his eyes. Lan Wangji felt the anger bubbling up within him, his spirit refusing to be broken. With a surge of strength, he slammed his other hand into Wen Xu's chest .

But his attack had no effect. Wen Xu's grip on his wrist only tightened, his eyes flashing with something akin to amusement. "So fiery," he murmured, pulling Lan Wangji closer until their faces were inches apart. Lan Wangji could feel the heat of the fire on his skin, the warmth of Wen Xu's breath mixing with the acrid scent of burning fabric.

Wen Xu leaned in, his lips almost touching Lan Wangji's ear. "But fire alone cannot harm me," he whispered, his voice a seductive hiss. Lan Wangji felt the blood drain from his face as the reality of his situation set in. He was outmatched, outplayed, and utterly at the mercy of this monster.

But the fire inside him wasn’t just any fire; it was the fire of righteousness and anger, fueled by his love for Wei Wuxian and his determination to protect him. With a snarl, Lan Wangji tried to twist out of Wen Xu’s grasp, his eyes searching for the broken sword. It had to be somewhere, a glimmer of hope in the sea of flames that surrounded them.

Wen Xu's grip tightened, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of Lan Wangji’s arm. "You think you can defeat me?" he sneered, his eyes alight with the fury of a thousand suns. Lan Wangji felt the weight of his failure, the fear that he would never escape this nightmare.

Summoning the last of his strength, Lan Wangji managed to wrench his arm free, the sound of fabric tearing echoing through the room. He stumbled backward, the flames of his robe flickering wildly, reflecting the desperation in his eyes. "You will not have me," he shouted, his voice hoarse from the smoke.

But Wen Xu was unfazed, his eyes gleaming with a dark delight. He took a step closer, his hand shooting out to grab Lan Wangji's throat, his grip unyielding. "You are mine," he growled, the fire around them seeming to respond to his anger, growing higher and more intense.

Lan Wangji’s eyes searched desperately for an escape, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he clawed at Wen Xu’s hand. The room was a prison of flame, the heat a living, breathing entity that sought to consume him. He felt the warmth of the fire against his skin, a stark contrast to the cold grip of fear that had held him captive.

"I am only wei ying's ,Only Wei Ying can touch me," Lan Wangji murmured, his voice barely audible amidst the chaos surrounding them. His eyes, usually calm and composed, were now filled with a fierce determination that made his words sound almost like a declaration.

Wen Xu's grip tightened around Lan Wangji's neck, his knuckles turning white with anger. He was a man who did not appreciate being told what he could or couldn't do, especially not by someone who was currently in his power. His eyes narrowed as he glared down at Lan Wangji, and his voice took on a dangerous edge.

"Wei Wuxian is nothing but a ghost of your past," he spat out. "And I will ensure that you forget him entirely."

Lan Wangji's eyes widened in horror as he felt the room shift around him. The hot burning space they had been in was replaced by a warm, opulent chamber that smelled faintly of sandalwood and jasmine. The walls were adorned with gold leaf, and the bed in the centre was covered in silk sheets of the finest quality. Wen Xu had clearly used his power to manipulate their surroundings, a stark reminder of his dominance.

"You think your precious wei ying will come for you?" Wen Xu sneered, his grip on Lan Wangji's hair tightening. "He's useless, Lan wangji. And even if he weren't, he's not here. You're all mine now."

Lan Wangji's eyes never left Wen Xu's, his voice steady despite the pain. "Wei Ying will find me. He always does."

Wen Xu's anger grew, his grip on Lan Wangji's neck tightening until it was almost unbearable. "Wei Ying can't save you," he hissed, his voice filled with malice. "And once I'm through with you, you won't even remember his name". Wen Xu had clearly had enough of Lan Wangji's defiance and was eager to prove his dominance.

He pulled lan wangji by his grip on his hair and pushed Lan Wangji down onto the bed, the silk sheets sliding beneath him like a treacherous river. Lan Wangji's eyes searched the room, looking for anything that might offer a way out, but it was as if the walls had closed in around them, trapping him in Wen Xu's twisted reality.

Wen Xu leaned over him, his eyes burning with rage. "You will learn to scream for me, Lan wangji," he murmured, his breath hot on Lan Wangji's cheek. "You will beg for my touch and crave it."

But Lan Wangji's resolve did not waver. "Wei Ying is coming," he whispered, his voice unsteady but the conviction in his words unshaken. "And when he does, you will pay for every single moment of pain you've caused me."

Wen Xu's grip tightened, his knuckles turning white. "Your faith in him is amusing," he sneered, "but utterly misplaced. Wei Wuxian can't save you from me, not now, not ever."

Lan Wangji's breaths grew ragged as he stared up at Wen Xu, his eyes never leaving the man's face. The words cut deep, but they only served to fuel his resolve. "You underestimate him," he gritted out, his voice strained but firm.

Wen Xu's expression darkened at the mention of Wei Wuxian, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and disdain. "Wei Wuxian is no match for me," he snarled, leaning in so close that Lan Wangji could feel the heat of his breath. "And once I've had my way with you, you'll understand that too."

With a brutal yank, Wen Xu pinned Lan Wangji's wrists to the bed with one hand. Lan Wangji's eyes grew wide with fear and anger, but he continued to struggle, refusing to give in to Wen Xu's advances. His chest heaved as he tried to push the man off, his body arching against the silken prison that held him.

Wen Xu leaned closer, his breath hot and acrid as he whispered threats and taunts into Lan Wangji's ear. His free hand roamed, greedily grabbing at the fabric of the robe, pulling and tugging until it gave way near the shoulder, revealing smooth, pale skin. Lan Wangji's heart raced in his chest, a mix of horror and determination surging through him. He knew he had to find a way out of this situation.

With a sudden burst of strength, Lan Wangji managed to free one of his hands, and he swung it up, aiming for Wen Xu's face. But Wen Xu was faster, catching the hand in his iron grip and pinning it back down with a sadistic smile. "Is this what you want?" he asked, his voice a sick parody of tenderness. "To fight me?"

The room was spinning now, the opulent decorations a blur around them as Lan Wangji's vision started to tunnel. He could feel Wen Xu's weight pressing down on him. The fear was a living thing in his chest, a monster that threatened to consume him. But he wouldn't give in. Not to this man, not ever.

With a surge of adrenaline, Lan Wangji bucked his hips, trying to dislodge Wen Xu, but the latter only chuckled, his grip unyielding. "You're so eager to please," he murmured, mistaking the movement for something else entirely. Lan Wangji's eyes watered with pain and humiliation, but his spirit remained unbroken. He had to escape, had to find a way out of this nightmare.

The room grew warmer as Wen Xu's breath grew more ragged, his actions more aggressive. Lan Wangji felt the fabric of his robe tear under the onslaught of the other man's hands, revealing his bare shoulder. The sensation of the cool air against his overheated skin was jolting, a stark reminder of the reality of the situation.

Wen Xu's eyes were wild with lust and anger as he stared down at Lan Wangji, his fingers digging into the pale skin of his wrists, leaving bruises that would surely linger. "You will be mine," he growled, his voice a harsh contrast to the gentle whispers from before. "You will beg for it."

Lan Wangji's chest heaved as he fought against the restraints, his eyes never leaving Wen Xu's. The struggle was futile, but he refused to stop moving, to stop fighting. His mind raced, searching for any way to escape the situation. He could feel the warmth of Wen Xu's breath on his neck, his hands fumbling at the fastenings of the robe.

"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji thought desperately, his voice a silent cry for help. His thoughts were a maelstrom of fear and anger, a tumult of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. But amidst the chaos, there was a beacon of calmness, a memory of a gentle touch, a reassuring presence that filled his heart with determination.

With a sudden surge of strength, Lan Wangji managed to free one hand again and swung it at Wen Xu's face. This time, his aim was true, and his palm connected with a satisfying smack that echoed through the room. Wen Xu's head snapped back, and for a moment, he was stunned. Lan Wangji took advantage of the distraction, pushing himself up and trying to roll off the bed.

But Wen Xu was quick to recover, his expression twisting into one of pure, unbridled fury. He grabbed Lan Wangji by the shoulders, forcing him back down onto the mattress. The fabric of the robe gave way completely, and Lan Wangji felt the cool air of the room caress his barely covered chest. Wen Xu's eyes raked over him, his gaze burning with a hunger that made Lan Wangji's skin crawl.

"You will learn your place," Wen Xu snarled, his grip tightening. He straddled Lan Wangji's waist, trapping him beneath his weight. Lan Wangji's heart hammered in his chest, his body tense and trembling. The struggle to free himself grew more frantic, his nails digging into wen xu hand. He could feel the warmth of Wen Xu's skin against his, the rough fabric of the other man's clothing scraping against his own exposed flesh.

Wen Xu's hand moved to Lan Wangji's shoulder, his fingers curling into the fabric of the robe. With a brutal yank, he tore the garment further, exposing more of the pale skin beneath. Lan Wangji's eyes squeezed shut, a whimper escaping his lips as the material gave way.

Wen Xu's breath was hot and ragged against Lan Wangji's cheek, his eyes burning with a fury that seemed to consume everything in their path. "You think you can resist me?" he growled, his voice thick with malice.

Wen Xu leaned in closer, his eyes alight with a crazed hunger. He brought his mouth down to Lan Wangji's neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. Lan Wangji's breath hitched in his throat.

Wen Xu's grip was ironclad, his breathing heavy and ragged. Lan Wangji's body was a battleground of emotions; fear, anger, and a stubborn will to fight back. He bucked and thrashed beneath the other man, his legs kicking out, trying to connect with anything that would give him leverage. But Wen Xu was too strong, too heavy, too determined to let him go.

The silk of the robe tore like paper under Wen Xu's furious grip. Lan Wangji's breaths grew shallower, his eyes wide with panic and humiliation as he felt the cool air kiss his exposed skin. Wen Xu leaned in, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh of Lan Wangji's neck, sending shivers through his body. Lan Wangji's protests grew louder, his voice a mix of rage and fear as he struggled to break free from the man's embrace.

Wen Xu's hand moved to cup Lan Wangji's face, his thumb tracing the line of his jaw, forcing Lan Wangji to look at him. "You will learn to love this," he murmured, his eyes dark with desire. Lan Wangji's stomach churned, bile rising in his throat at the thought of ever succumbing to this monster's touch. He bit down hard on the thumb, tasting the coppery tang of blood, and watched with grim satisfaction as Wen Xu's expression twisted in pain.

The momentary distraction was all he needed. Lan Wangji brought his knee up, catching Wen Xu in the stomach and knocking the wind out of him. The other man's grip loosened for a split second, and Lan Wangji took advantage of it, pushing him off the bed with all his might. He rolled away, the silk sheets tangling around his legs as he tried to get to his feet. The room spun around him, but he ignored it, focusing solely on the need to escape.

Wen Xu hit the floor with a grunt, his eyes flashing with fury as he climbed back up, his hand reaching out to grab Lan Wangji again. Lan Wangji managed to stand, the robe hanging off one shoulder. He stumbled back, his bare feet slipping on the marble floor. He could feel the cold seep into his bones, but it was a welcome sensation compared to the heat of Wen Xu's touch.

"You're going to regret that," Wen Xu hissed, his hand coming up to slap Lan Wangji . The force of the blow sent Lan Wangji reeling, his vision swimming as he stumbled backward and fell onto the bed. The silk sheets did nothing to cushion the impact, and his head snapped back, the room spinning around him. The taste of copper filled his mouth, and he felt a warm trickle of blood slide down his chin.

Lan Wangji's eyes watered with pain, and a single tear slid down his cheek, a silent testament to his helplessness. His breaths came in ragged gasps as he tried to focus on Wen Xu, who was now standing over him, his eyes glinting with a dark triumph. The fabric of the robe lay in tatters around Lan Wangji's body .

The room was spinning, the edges of his vision blurring as the pain from the slap echoed through his skull. His cheek stung, a stark reminder of his captor's power. But amidst the fear and pain, a spark of defiance burned within him, a flicker of hope that Wei Ying would come to rescue him. He had to hold on, had to survive until then.

"So beautiful," wen xu murmured, his eyes dark with lust. "So very tempting." He reached out to touch the delicate fabric, his calloused fingertips grazing the softness of Lan Wangji's skin. Lan Wangji flinched, his entire body recoiling from the contact. The sensation was like a hot brand searing into his very soul, filling him with a revulsion that was almost as potent as his fear.

Wen Xu's eyes never left Lan Wangji's face, watching the emotions play out across the younger man's features with a twisted sense of pleasure. He enjoyed seeing the fear, the anger, the struggle for dominance. It was like watching a wild animal caught in a trap, fighting for its life. And just like that animal, Lan Wangji would eventually break.

Lan Wangji's eyes flickered with fear as he watched Wen Xu's hand reaching out to touch the exposed flesh of his chest.

Wen Xu's eyes were a storm of rage and desire as he leaned in, his teeth bared in a snarl. "You will learn to submit “

Wen Xu's eyes gleamed with victory . He reached up and slowly untied the sash of his own robe, letting it fall open to reveal the muscular expanse of his chest. The candlelight danced over his skin, casting shadows that only served to enhance the predatory look in his eyes.

As the fabric of the robe fell away, Lan Wangji's vision swam with darkness, his body giving out from the fear and pain. The last thing he was aware of was the sight of Wen Xu's triumphant smirk, the robe falling to pool around his waist. The room spun, and with a final, desperate gasp, the world went black.

______

Lan Wangji's eyes fluttered open, the world around him a blur of shadow and light. The sound of ragged breathing filled his ears.

His vision cleared, and he found himself staring up at a familiar, yet distorted face looming over him.

Wen Xu's eyes were closed, his expression lost in a haze of lust as he continued to explore Lan Wangji's skin with his mouth. His fingers danced along the edges of the open wedding robe, tracing patterns on the pale, almost translucent flesh beneath. Lan wangji chest rose and fell erratically, his breaths shallow and fast, as he took in the sight before him.

Panic began to grip Lan wangji heart.

Wen Xu's warm breath tickled his neck, sending shivers down his spine as the reality of the situation hit him. His wedding robe was open, hanging loosely from his arms, leaving his body barely covered. The fabric felt like a prison that had been unlocked by an unseen hand, leaving him exposed and vulnerable to Wen Xu's roving touches. The man above him was a whirlwind of hunger and desperation, his mouth moving in a pattern of desperate kisses and hungry bites along the column of Lan wangji throat.

Wen xu hands moving with increasing boldness to caress and squeeze the flesh of Lan wangji chest barely covered by lan wangji inner sheer robe, his thumbs brushing the sensitive peaks of his nipples. The touch was unwelcome that served to heighten his panic.

########___________########

With trembling hand Lan wangji reached behind his head and grasped the only thing within his reach that could serve as a weapon, a hairpin holding his hair in place. Wen xu in his haze of lust failed to see that. In one swift motion, lan wangji pulled the hairpin free and aimed for Wen xu's eyes, the glint of metal in the moonlight reflecting his desperation.

Wen xu's eyes widened in shock and pain as the sharp hairpin pierced through his eyelid. His scream tore through the quiet night air, a mix of agony and disbelief. His hands flew to his face, fingers slick with blood as he stumbled back, blinded by the sudden assault.

Lan wangji's heart hammered in his chest, his breath coming in short gasps. He watched Wen xu fall to the other side of bed , writhing and clutching at his face.

Seizing the opportunity, he scrambled off the bed, his bruised body protesting with every movement. He gathered the tattered remains of his wedding robe, pulling it tightly around himself. The fabric felt cold against his fevered skin, offering a small semblance of protection from the horror that had just unfolded.

Wen Xu's pain-filled screams followed him like a macabre symphony as he staggered towards the door. Lan wangji's legs felt like lead, his body screaming for rest, but fear lent him wings. He knew he had to escape before Wen Xu regained his bearings or called for help. His heart raced as he fumbled with the latch, his hands shaking violently.

With a final surge of adrenaline, the door swung open, and Lan wangji stumbled into the dimly lit hallway. The cold stone floor felt like a lifeline under his bare feet, a stark contrast to the warm, suffocating air of the room he'd just left. The corridor was eerily quiet, the only sounds echoing from his own harsh breathing and the distant cries of his attacker. He clutched the tattered robe around him, the fabric barely concealing the bruises and marks that marred his skin.

__________________________

Wei Wuxian jolted awake with a sharp gasp, his breath ragged and uneven, chest rising and falling as though he had run for miles. His entire body trembled, a cold sweat slicking his skin. His fingers dug into the sheets beneath him, but the sensation felt distant, almost unreal.

The remnants of the dream clung to his mind—no, not a dream. A vision.

He had seen it.

Lan Wangji.

Lying helpless. His wedding robes disheveled, the pristine white and gold fabric torn in places. His pale skin marred by bruises, by the hands of someone who had no right to touch him. His golden eyes—usually fierce, unwavering—were dim, filled with something Wei Wuxian had never seen before. Helplessness.

A scream burned in his throat, but it never made it past his lips. His entire body felt like it was on fire, rage and fear entwining into something wild, untamed, suffocating.

His fingers curled into fists, nails digging into his palms hard enough to break skin. No. No. No.

He had to get to Lan Wangji.

Now.

Without another second of hesitation, Wei Wuxian surged to his feet, his spiritual energy crackling back to life. The shadows in the room flickered and bent toward him, responding to his fury, his desperation. He didn’t stop to think, didn’t stop to question. He raised his hand, and dark energy surged around him, warping the air, bending reality to his will.

A swirling vortex of black and crimson energy erupted before him, distorting the space around it. The portal stabilized in an instant, raw power crackling at its edges. He had never attempted something like this before, not with this much urgency, but it didn’t matter.

He stepped through.

The shift was instantaneous. The moment Wei Wuxian emerged, he felt the weight of a different world pressing down on him. Baoshen Sanren’s abode was unlike any mortal place—it floated amidst an endless expanse of swirling mist and golden light, a realm untouched by time itself.

The sky stretched infinitely above, neither day nor night, an ethereal glow illuminating the vastness around him. The ground beneath his feet was not solid earth but something softer, firmer than air yet lighter than stone.

At the heart of the realm, Baoshen Sanren sat within a massive lotus formation, her figure radiating a calm, steady presence. Golden light pulsed from the lotus, spreading out in slow, rhythmic waves, as if the entire realm breathed in sync with her.

She did not seem surprised by his sudden arrival.

“I was waiting for you,” she said, opening her ancient eyes.

Wei Wuxian barely heard her. His heart pounded like a war drum. “Tell me where Lan Wangji is!” he demanded, voice raw with desperation. “I need to get to him now!”

Baoshen Sanren regarded him with an unreadable expression. “You have seen it, haven’t you?”

Wei Wuxian’s breath hitched. His entire body was tense, shaking. “He’s in danger. I saw him—I felt him—” His hands trembled as he clenched them into fists. “Tell me where he is!”

Baoshen Sanren sighed. “The realm he is trapped in does not exist in this world.”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes widened.

“It was created by Wen Xu, the elder son of Wen Ruohan,” she continued, her voice carrying an ancient weight. “He is not merely a cultivator. He is the crown prince of the Demon Realm. His magic is unlike anything you have faced before.”

Wei Wuxian barely contained his rage. “I don’t care what kind of magic he has. Just tell me how to get there.”

Baoshen Sanren shook her head. “No one can find that realm. It exists outside of time and space, hidden by Wen Xu’s own bloodline magic. No spell, no tracking technique, nothing can pierce through its veil.”

Wei Wuxian felt as if ice had been poured down his spine. “There has to be a way.”

Baoshen Sanren studied him for a long moment. “There is one method,” she admitted at last. “A connection. If there is a deep enough bond between you and Lan Wangji, one that transcends spiritual barriers, you may be able to reach him.”

Wei Wuxian’s breath caught. A bond…

His mind raced. He hadn’t given Lan Wangji his bite yet, hadn’t marked him in a way that would serve as a direct spiritual link. Did that mean—was there really nothing he could do?

No.

There was something.

His eyes widened. The dragon pendant.

Lan Wangji still had it. Wei Wuxian had given it to him long ago, and it carried a trace of his essence. If there was even the faintest spiritual link—he could use it.

Baoshen Sanren seemed to sense his realization. “That might work,” she murmured. “But we will need to draw upon its energy.”

Without another word, she raised her hand. The golden lotus beneath her flared to life, its petals unfurling to reveal a complex array glowing with ancient runes. Wei Wuxian could feel the power humming beneath his feet, something old, something divine.

“Drop your blood into the array,” Baoshen Sanren instructed. “If your connection to Lan Wangji is strong enough, the pendant will respond, and the path to the realm will be revealed.”

Wei Wuxian didn’t hesitate. He bit his thumb, letting a drop of blood fall into the center of the formation.

The moment his blood touched the array, the runes blazed with crimson light. The entire realm trembled, as if responding to a force beyond comprehension.

A surge of power erupted from the lotus, swirling into the air like a storm of golden and red energy. The mist around them parted, and for the first time, a crack appeared in space itself.

It widened, growing larger and larger, until a massive gate formed before them. The doors were carved with ancient symbols, pulsing with an eerie glow. Through its hazy surface, Wei Wuxian could see glimpses of a twisted, darkened world—a place not of this reality.

Baoshen Sanren exhaled softly. “The portal is open. But be warned—once you step inside, your spiritual energy will be useless. Wen Xu controls the realm. You will be at his mercy.”

Wei Wuxian clenched his jaw. Like hell I will.

Baoshen Sanren lifted her hand, summoning a small, silver artifact—a delicate pendant in the shape of a crescent moon. “Take this. It will hide you from the eyes of the realm. But it will not last forever.”

Wei Wuxian took the pendant, his grip tightening around it. His heart pounded as he turned toward the massive gate, toward the world that held Lan Wangji captive.

I’m coming, Lan Zhan.

Without another word, he stepped forward—and disappeared into the darkness.

__________________________

Chapter Text

Pain. It pulsed through Lan Wangji’s body with every step he took, every breath he forced into his aching lungs. His feet barely carried him forward, stumbling against the cold stone floors of the palace hallways. His once-pristine robes were in tatters, dirtied with blood, sweat, and the remnants of his struggle. The bruises lining his arms and legs throbbed, the deep gash on his left shoulder burning with each movement. He didn’t know how much time had passed since he had been imprisoned in Wen Xu’s twisted domain, but he knew one thing—if he didn’t escape now, he never would.

The dimly lit corridor stretched endlessly before him, a cold draft curling through the air, sending shivers down his spine. His body was weak, worn from exhaustion and torment, but he refused to stop. He had spent too long trapped, waiting for an opening, enduring whatever cruel games Wen Xu played with him. Now that he had a chance to flee, he would not let it slip away.

His breaths came out in harsh, ragged gasps, and his heartbeat thundered in his ears. The pain in his ribs from where he had been struck earlier made every inhalation a struggle, but he gritted his teeth and pressed on. His bare feet barely made a sound against the polished stone, but his limbs felt heavy, sluggish. His vision blurred for a moment, and he swayed before catching himself against the wall. No. He couldn’t afford to collapse. Not now.

Up ahead, the massive doors leading outside came into view. Almost there. The sight sent a rush of adrenaline through him, and he forced himself into a run, ignoring the way his muscles screamed in protest.

Lan Wangji reached the door and shoved against it with all the strength he had left. The heavy wooden panels groaned, reluctant to move, as if the very palace itself conspired to keep him inside. He braced his shoulder against the door and pushed harder, sweat dripping down his forehead. Move. Move. Move!

Finally, with a low creak, the doors gave way, and a gust of cold night air hit his face. For a brief moment, he simply stood there, inhaling deeply, filling his lungs with something that wasn’t the suffocating scent of incense and dark magic.

Then, without hesitation, he stepped out.

The world outside the palace was dark and vast, stretching endlessly beneath a sky devoid of stars. Thick clouds swirled overhead, tinged with an unnatural red glow, casting eerie shadows on the barren land. The scent of damp earth and decaying foliage filled the air, making his stomach churn.

A forest loomed in the distance—a monstrous, endless expanse of tangled trees and dense undergrowth. It was the only place he could go. The open fields leading away from the palace would leave him vulnerable, exposed. If Wen Xu’s men came after him, he wouldn’t stand a chance.

The forest was his only hope.

Clutching at his wounded side, he forced himself forward, his pace uneven but determined. Every step felt like dragging himself through thick mud, his legs barely cooperating. His mind screamed at him to keep going, to ignore the pain, to keep moving no matter what.

His fingers curled around the remains of his robes, holding them tightly to himself as the cold wind cut through the thin fabric. His body ached, his limbs burned, but he didn’t stop.

The forest was close now. Just a little further.

Then—

A sharp howl tore through the silence, echoing across the barren land.

Lan Wangji’s breath hitched. He didn’t look back. He didn’t need to. He knew that sound. Wen Xu’s creatures.

A fresh wave of fear sent his pulse racing, and he pushed himself harder. The trees were right in front of him. If he could just reach them—

Another howl, closer this time. The rustling of wings. The sound of something large moving unnaturally fast.

Lan Wangji clenched his jaw and ran.

The moment he crossed into the forest, the world changed.

The air grew thick, humid, pressing against him like an unseen force. The trees were massive, their twisted roots clawing at the ground, their darkened leaves blocking out any light. The deeper he went, the harder it became to see. Shadows moved at the edges of his vision, and the rustling of unseen creatures filled the air.

The path ahead was treacherous. Vines tangled around his feet, nearly tripping him. Thorned branches reached for him like grasping fingers, scraping against his skin, drawing fresh cuts. The ground was uneven, littered with sharp rocks and patches of thick mud that clung to his legs, slowing him down.

He stumbled.

His knee slammed against the ground, sending pain shooting up his leg. He let out a strangled gasp, clutching at his throbbing limb. No. He couldn’t stop.

Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself up, ignoring the sharp sting in his knee. His breath came in short, labored pants, but he pressed forward.

The howls had stopped.

That was worse.

Because that meant they had found his trail.

The forest was working against him. It was alive, twisting and shifting around him, making it impossible to find a clear path. He didn’t know how long he had been running. Minutes? Hours? His body was reaching its limit, exhaustion dragging at his every movement.

His vision swam. His limbs trembled. The wounds on his body screamed in protest.

Still, he ran.

Branches tore at his clothes, at his hair, at his skin. His breath hitched as his foot caught on something, sending him sprawling forward. He barely had time to react before he hit the ground, pain exploding across his body.

He tried to get up, but his arms refused to move. His fingers curled weakly against the dirt, but he couldn’t find the strength to push himself up. His chest heaved, lungs burning, heart pounding like a war drum.

He was at his limit.

Was this it?

Would he be caught now, dragged back to the palace, forced to endure whatever torment Wen Xu had in store for him?

His vision blurred.

He clenched his fists.

No.

He would not give up.

With every ounce of willpower he had left, he forced himself back onto his feet, swaying unsteadily. His body felt weightless, as if he were barely holding himself together.

Just a little more.

Just a little further.

Then—

He collided with something.

Something solid, something warm.

The impact knocked the last of his strength from him, and he staggered back, barely able to keep himself upright.

His mind screamed at him to run, to fight, to do something—but then he looked up.

Silver eyes met his.

A face he knew, a face he had longed for.

Wei Wuxian.

Lan Wangji’s breath caught in his throat. The world tilted. Relief, disbelief, exhaustion—all of it crashed over him like a wave. His vision swam, his body felt weightless.

The last thing he saw before darkness took him was Wei Wuxian’s face, wide-eyed, panicked, reaching out for him.

Then, everything faded.

---------

A low, guttural growl reverberated through the dimly lit chamber. The sound came from deep within Wen Xu’s throat, raw with rage, tempered with something far more volatile—obsession.

He sat stiffly on the grand obsidian throne, his fingers curled into the armrests, his nails digging into the intricate carvings. His right eye, now lost to him forever, throbbed beneath the bloodstained cloth wrapped around his head, a cruel reminder of Lan Wangji’s defiance.

That damned Lan Wangji.

The bastard had dared to wound him.

Wen Xu’s jaw clenched. The pain was nothing—he had suffered far worse. But the humiliation? The fact that Lan Wangji, a mere captive, had managed to scar him? That was unforgivable. His father, Wen Ruohan, would sneer if he saw him now, wounded by an little powerless omega .

And yet, despite everything, that omega had still escaped.

The thought made Wen Xu’s lips curl into a humorless smirk, a bitter edge lacing his amusement. He leaned forward, eyes locked onto the glowing crystal before him, watching as Lan Wangji stumbled through the cursed forest, running like a wounded animal.

The sight was delicious.

Wen Xu dragged his fingers over the surface of the crystal, watching as the image flickered and shifted, following Lan Wangji’s every desperate step. He was struggling. His body, once pristine and unyielding, was now bruised and battered. His once-impeccable robes were shredded, his hair disheveled, his face marred by exhaustion and pain.

A heir turned into prey.

Wen Xu relished the sight, his smirk widening.

Let him run. Let him think he has a chance.

This realm was his prison, and Wen Xu was its warden. Lan Wangji could run as far as he wanted, but he would never escape. The forest itself would turn against him, warping and twisting, dragging him back where he belonged—at Wen Xu’s feet.

He chuckled, dark and low, savoring the way Lan Wangji faltered, his body giving out beneath him for just a moment before he pushed himself back up. Still fighting. Still so stubborn.

Wen Xu licked his lips, his one good eye gleaming.

"I’ll enjoy breaking you properly this time."

The words came out in a whisper, laced with promise.

Lan Wangji had cost him an eye. That debt would not go unpaid. Wen Xu would carve the lesson into his skin, make him regret ever thinking he could defy him.

And yet—

As Wen Xu watched, something unexpected happened.

Lan Wangji, struggling through the forest, his every movement visible, his presence clear, his pain tangible—

Disappeared.

One second, he was there.

The next—gone.

The crystal flickered, the image vanished, leaving only the dark expanse of the twisted forest behind.

Wen Xu’s smirk froze.

For a moment, his mind couldn’t comprehend it. His fingers twitched. His one good eye narrowed.

What?

His gaze sharpened as he leaned in, his heartbeat slowing, cold confusion washing over him. He tapped the surface of the crystal, willing it to respond.

Nothing.

The image refused to reform. The threads of the realm—his realm—had lost him.

A chill crept up Wen Xu’s spine, something he never felt. Doubt. Unease.

This realm was impenetrable. There was no escape. Not unless he willed it. Not unless the realm itself allowed it.

So where the hell was Lan Wangji?

His fingers clenched around the crystal, the sharp edges biting into his palm. A slow, simmering rage started to bubble beneath the surface, creeping through his veins like poison.

He pressed harder, trying to force the crystal to obey, to find the lost prey.

Still—nothing.

Wen Xu’s breath came in sharp, furious exhales.

Impossible.

No one had ever disappeared from his sight. No one had ever—

A thought struck him, cold and venomous.

Did someone take him?

His jaw clenched so hard his teeth ground together. His muscles tensed beneath his robes, his fingers trembling with the effort to contain his fury.

The very idea was laughable—who would dare? Who would have the power?

The realm was crafted by him alone , sustained by his will. There were no forces that could simply erase someone from existence within it.

Unless—

His breath stilled.

Unless there was something he didn’t know.

His rage boiled over.

With a snarl, Wen Xu threw the crystal across the chamber.

It shattered against the obsidian walls, fragments scattering across the floor like shards of ice, the remnants of its glow flickering weakly before dying out.

A heavy silence fell over the room, thick with menace, the air crackling with the force of Wen Xu’s barely contained fury. His body trembled, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.

His breathing was uneven, his chest rising and falling in sharp, erratic movements.

Lan Wangji was gone.

And Wen Xu had no idea how.

That infuriated him more than anything else.

He had spent too much time, too much effort, too much pleasure in breaking that omega, only for him to vanish like a ghost?

His nails dug into his palm, deep enough to draw blood.

No.

He refused to accept it.

This wasn’t over.

If Lan Wangji had disappeared, that only meant one thing—someone was interfering. Someone with enough power to slip past the watchful eyes of the realm itself.

Wen Xu let out a slow exhale, his lips curling into a dangerous smile.

"Interesting," he murmured.

It had been so long since someone had dared to challenge him. Since someone had made him feel this level of rage.

He relished it.

The hunt was far from over.

If someone had stolen Lan Wangji away from him, then he would find them. He would burn their entire existence to the ground, tear them apart limb by limb, make them beg for mercy—

And then, when he had Lan Wangji back where he belonged, he would make him watch.

His eye gleamed with the promise of violence.

"This… is going to be fun."

___________

Wei Wuxian stood frozen for a moment, his arms wrapped around the fragile, bruised body in his embrace. His breath hitched. His mind—sharp, quick-witted, and always brimming with mischievous energy—stilled completely.

Lan Wangji’s weight was unnatural in his arms—too light, too limp. His body had always been lean, honed from years of discipline and training, but now he felt like paper, as if a mere gust of wind could blow him away.

Wei Wuxian tightened his grip, instinctively shielding him from the cold night air.

His eyes darted over Lan Wangji’s form, and what he saw made his stomach churn with something he couldn’t name—something thick, suffocating, and achingly painful.

Lan Wangji was a mess.

His once pristine red wedding robes were torn to shreds, barely clinging to his battered form. Dark bruises, angry and swollen, marred the pale skin beneath the rips, spreading across his arms, his shoulders .Wei wuxian looked with pain and rage at the bruises covering lan wangji neck and moving towards his chest .The angry purple marks on lan wangji skin were fresh, darkening by the second. Too many. There were too many.

Wei Wuxian’s hands shook.

Lan Wangji’s once-impeccable hair, smoothed back in elegant restraint, was a tangled mess, strands plastered to his forehead with sweat. His lips—usually a soft shade of pink—were cracked, a deep gash splitting the lower one. A trail of dried blood curled from the corner of his mouth, stark against his ashen complexion.

His breath was shallow. So faint.

Wei Wuxian swallowed hard, his chest tightening painfully.

Anger. Fury. Rage.

It crawled up his spine like fire, curling in his gut like something vicious and uncontrollable. The sheer violence of it made his body tremble. He wanted to tear through the realm, find the bastard responsible, and rip him apart with his bare hands.

But—

Not now.

Not when Lan Wangji was like this.

He exhaled shakily and reached up, his fingers moving with uncharacteristic gentleness as he loosened the red outer robe draped over his own shoulders. He pulled it off and wrapped it around Lan Wangji, tucking it carefully around his battered frame.

Wei Wuxian’s throat burned.

"What the hell did they do to you, Lan Zhan…?"

The words were barely a whisper, barely even spoken, but they carried all the weight of his fury and grief. He bent his head down, pressing his forehead against Lan Wangji’s for just a moment, feeling the lingering warmth of his skin—still alive. Still breathing.

That’s all that matters.

His arms curled tighter, pulling him closer, as if the sheer force of his embrace could protect him from everything that had already happened.

For a brief second, his mind whispered a dark, dangerous thought—

I should’ve been there. If I had been there, this wouldn’t have happened.

Wei Wuxian clenched his jaw and shook it off.

Now wasn’t the time.

He adjusted his hold, shifting Lan Wangji’s weight so he could lift him properly. His arms curled beneath him, one under his knees, the other supporting his back. Gently. Carefully. He lifted him as if he were made of glass—as if the slightest mishandling would cause him to shatter.

He was too light.

Wei Wuxian hated it.

He scanned the surroundings. They needed shelter. Fast.

The air here was thick—heavy with something unnatural. He could feel it pressing against his skin, coiling around his ankles like something alive. This realm was watching. Searching. Wen Xu’s influence was still here, lurking beneath the surface like a predator waiting to strike.

Wei Wuxian needed to get out of sight.

He scanned the twisted trees, the jagged rocks, the unnatural darkness pooling between the cracks of the realm’s boundaries. His eyes flickered toward something—

A hut.

It was small, nestled between the trees, its walls barely standing, but it was something.

Wei Wuxian moved.

His steps were swift, but his hold on Lan Wangji remained steady. The weight in his arms should have slowed him, but adrenaline surged through his veins, making him feel lighter. Stronger.

When he reached the hut, he pushed the door open with his foot, barely taking a moment to glance inside before stepping in. The place was empty, save for a makeshift bed of straw pressed into the farthest corner.

It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

Wei Wuxian knelt down, carefully lowering Lan Wangji onto the straw. He adjusted his position, making sure his body was comfortable, that his limbs weren’t twisted at awkward angles.

He hesitated.

Lan Wangji looked so small like this.

So fragile.

Wei Wuxian swallowed hard and let his hands linger. Just for a second.

Then, with a soft exhale, he reached out, brushing his fingers gently against Lan Wangji’s cheek.

The skin beneath his fingertips was too cold.

Wei Wuxian’s breath hitched.

Without thinking, he leaned closer, his body instinctively hovering protectively over him. His other hand curled into a fist, pressing against his own knee to keep it from trembling.

He had seen Lan Wangji fight with unwavering strength, his movements always sharp and unbreakable.

But this?

Seeing him like this?

It hurt.

It hurt in a way Wei Wuxian didn’t have words for.

A quiet breath escaped him, and he leaned down, pressing his forehead lightly against Lan Wangji’s once more.

His voice was barely a whisper.

"You’re safe now, Lan Zhan. I promise."

The vow settled heavily between them, an unbreakable truth.

Wei Wuxian let it linger for a moment longer before finally pulling back.

There was still so much to do. He needed to check for wounds. Needed to find clean water. Needed to—

His fingers curled into the fabric of his robes, gripping them tightly.

For now, he settled with watching over Lan Wangji.

For now, he would stay right here.

Right beside him.

No matter what.

--------------

Wen Xu stood in the center of his dark chamber, his single eye glowing with simmering rage. The remains of the shattered crystal orb lay at his feet, its once-glowing fragments now fading to dull embers. His jaw clenched so tightly it ached, his breath coming out in slow, measured exhales as he struggled to contain his fury.

Lan Wangji—his prey—was gone.

Vanished.

It should have been impossible.

Wen Xu had crafted this prison realm himself, a place where even the strongest of cultivators could do nothing but suffer and submit. There were no doors, no hidden passages, no escape—unless he willed it.

And yet, the image in the crystal had shown him otherwise. Lan Wangji had been running, fleeing through the forest like a desperate animal, his pristine robes torn and bloodied, his once-imposing form reduced to a mere shadow of itself. Wen Xu had watched in amusement, knowing that the forest itself would never let him leave.

And then—he disappeared.

One moment, Lan Wangji had been there—bruised, exhausted, barely holding himself together—and the next, nothing.

The crystal had shown nothing.

His tracking spells had failed.

The very foundation of his realm, which allowed him to control every inch of it, had gone silent.

Something was shielding Lan Wangji from his gaze.

And that meant one thing—

He was not alone.

Someone was helping him.

The thought sent a fresh wave of wrath coursing through Wen Xu’s veins. He clenched his fists, the sharp nails digging into his palms as he exhaled through his nose.

His good eye flickered toward the nearest soldier, who was standing stiffly, terrified to even breathe too loudly.

Wen Xu’s lips curled into a slow, cruel smile.

“Summon them all,” he ordered, his voice deceptively soft.

The soldier swallowed hard before bowing and rushing out.

Within minutes, the throne chamber was filled with his forces.

Rows upon rows of dark-cloaked cultivators stood before him, their expressions grim, their gazes fixed firmly on the ground. At their center knelt a group of elite trackers, the ones Wen Xu relied on to hunt down his most elusive prey.

He took his time studying them, letting the heavy silence stretch as the torches around them flickered ominously.

“Lan Wangji has disappeared,” Wen Xu finally said, his voice cold and controlled.

No one moved.

“He has help. Someone is hiding him from my sight.”

A flicker of unease rippled through the gathered forces.

Wen Xu’s fingers twitched at his side. They were afraid. Good.

He let his gaze roam over them before stopping at the head tracker, a man known only as Hei Yu—a cultivator with an unnatural sensitivity to spiritual traces.

“You have one chance,” Wen Xu said, his tone dropping to something almost lethal. “Find him. Now.”

Hei Yu didn’t hesitate. He pressed his hands together in a quick gesture, his fingertips glowing with a faint, sickly green light. The others followed, channeling their energy into a combined seeking spell—

And the moment their energy touched the realm—

Nothing.

Their eyes widened. Their spell failed.

“I—I can’t find him, my lord,” Hei Yu stammered, his face pale.

Wen Xu’s eye twitched.

“Try again.”

The trackers exchanged uneasy glances before repeating the spell, this time pouring more power into it. Wen Xu watched as the green light flickered—then died completely.

“It’s like he doesn’t exist,” another tracker said shakily. “Something—someone—is hiding him from the realm’s sight.”

Wen Xu exhaled slowly.

His fingers twitched.

In one swift motion, he lashed out.

A choked scream rang through the chamber as one of the lesser trackers was lifted into the air by an invisible force, his body twisting unnaturally. Wen Xu’s grip on him was suffocating, crushing, as dark veins spread across the man’s throat.

The other cultivators stood frozen, knowing that to move—to even breathe too loudly—was to invite death.

Wen Xu let the struggling tracker suffocate for a moment longer before abruptly releasing him, letting him drop to the ground like a discarded rag. The man coughed violently, gasping for breath, but did not dare to move.

Wen Xu turned his back to them, his voice eerily calm.

“I will not tolerate failure.”

The air grew thick, the very walls of the chamber seeming to darken as his aura suffocated the room.

“Expand the search. Scour the entire forest. Find any trace of interference—any hint of who might be behind this.”

His voice dipped into a low growl.

“And if you fail again, you won’t live to see another day.”

The trackers scrambled to their feet, bowing deeply before rushing out of the chamber.

Wen Xu exhaled slowly, his fury still simmering just beneath the surface.

Someone was playing a dangerous game.

And when he found them—

He would rip them apart.

---

As his men searched, Wen Xu did not sit idle. He strode toward the outer courtyard of his fortress, where the cursed beasts were kept.

They were not creatures of the mortal world.

These were the hounds of the demon realm, bred from darkness, their souls twisted beyond recognition. Towering beasts with bone-white fangs, eyes that glowed with crimson malice, and claws that could tear through even the strongest barriers.

The moment he approached, the beasts stirred.

One of them, the largest among them, let out a low snarl, the sound reverberating through the stone walls.

Wen Xu’s lips curled.

“Go.”

The command was barely a whisper—yet the beasts lunged forward, vanishing into the air like shadows dispersing into the night.

They would find any trace of Lan Wangji.

They would tear apart anything that stood in their way.

And this time—

There would be no escape.

---

As the search spread, Wen Xu returned to his chamber, standing before the remnants of his broken crystal. He reached into his robes, pulling out a second artifact, a blackened mirror engraved with ancient runes.

Unlike the crystal orb, this mirror did not see.

It heard.

And so he listened.

He listened to the whispers of the realm, the echoes of movement, the trembling voices of the trees. He listened for any sign—any clue—of where Lan Wangji might have gone.

And as he listened—

He smiled.

Because even though he could not see Lan Wangji—

He could still feel him.

Somewhere, buried beneath the layers of enchantments, there was a sliver of spiritual resonance still left behind.

It was faint, fragile—like the lingering scent of a fading memory.

But it was enough.

Enough to give him a starting point.

And when he found that crack in the veil—he would tear it open.

Wen Xu’s grin widened, his expression both cruel and triumphant.

Lan Wangji thought he had escaped.

But Wen Xu was coming for him.

And this time—

He would make sure Lan Wangji never ran again.

___________________

A flicker of golden light danced across the dimly lit hut. The fire in the small hearth crackled softly, casting shifting shadows on the rough wooden walls. The scent of burning wood mixed with the damp earth, grounding the quiet space in a fragile sense of warmth.

Lan Wangji's breath hitched as he stirred, his eyelids fluttering weakly. A dull ache pulsed through his body, his limbs heavy, his throat raw from dehydration and exhaustion. He blinked slowly, trying to adjust to the dim light.

This place—

This wasn’t the palace.

His heartbeat quickened.

The pain lacing his body was an ever-present reminder of where he had been. The bruises, the cuts, the soreness deep in his bones—each one an imprint of Wen Xu’s cruelty. His muscles tensed involuntarily, his instincts screaming at him that he was still trapped, that this was another cruel trick—

And then he saw him.

A man, sitting near the fire with his back turned towards him.

Lan Wangji’s breath seized in his chest.

Dark robes. A strong frame.

It was him.

His stomach lurched with terror. His body reacted before his mind could process anything—he had to run.

A broken whimper escaped his lips as he struggled to push himself up. His body screamed in protest, pain flaring with every movement, but the fear was stronger. He staggered forward, almost tripping as he lunged towards the door.

But before he could reach it—

Strong arms caught him.

Lan Wangji let out a gasp of sheer terror, his body thrashing instinctively against the hold. His breath came in sharp, uneven pants, his vision blurring with panic.

“Let go! Let go!”

His mind spiraled, trapped in the depths of suffocating fear. He struggled violently, clawing at the arms restraining him, his breath ragged and shallow. The warmth of the embrace made his stomach turn—he could still feel phantom hands pinning him down, forcing him to kneel, to endure—

Not again. Not again.

“Lan Zhan! It’s me! It’s Wei Wuxian!”

The voice broke through his hysteria, desperate and pleading.

Lan Wangji flinched.

Wei Wuxian?

No. It couldn’t be. This was another trick—Wen Xu’s illusions, his mind twisting against him.

But then—

“Lan Zhan, look at me!”

The voice—deep, familiar, laced with something raw and trembling. Not a command. Not mockery. It was—

A plea.

Lan Wangji’s ragged breaths slowed slightly, his vision swimming as he hesitated. The arms around him weren’t cruel—they were firm but gentle, holding him without pain.

And then—Wei Wuxian shifted, pressing his forehead gently against Lan Wangji’s, whispering—

“I swear to you, it’s me. You’re safe now. Lan Zhan, you’re safe.”

Lan Wangji’s chest heaved as the words sank in.

The fog of panic cleared just enough for his vision to focus.

And there—his face, his voice, his scent.

Wei Wuxian.

Not Wen Xu. Not another tormentor.

Wei Wuxian.

Lan Wangji’s breath caught as realization crashed into him. His strength—the adrenaline keeping him upright—vanished all at once.

His knees buckled.

A strangled sob tore from his throat.

“Wei Ying—”

And then—he broke.

He collapsed against Wei Wuxian, arms wrapping around his neck as he clung to him with everything he had. His fingers dug into the fabric of Wei Wuxian’s robes, his breath shuddering against Wei Wuxian’s chest.

And then, he cried.

Not the silent, controlled tears he had always suppressed.

Not the quiet grief he had buried deep within himself.

But raw, gasping, heart-wrenching sobs.

His body shook violently, the sheer force of his emotions tearing through him like a storm.

He sobbed against Wei Wuxian’s chest, his entire form trembling as the weight of everything crashed down on him at once. The pain. The fear. The helplessness. The terror of never escaping. The nightmare of what he had suffered.

Wei Wuxian didn’t say a word.

He simply held him.

Tight. Unwavering. Safe.

His hand cradled the back of Lan Wangji’s head, fingers threading through sweat-dampened strands. His other arm wrapped around Lan Wangji’s trembling frame, shielding him from the world.

“I’m here.”

His voice was low, steady, a lifeline anchoring Lan Wangji in the storm of his grief.

“I’ve got you, Lan Zhan. No one’s going to hurt you ever again. I swear it.”

Lan Wangji’s sobs only grew louder.

Wei Wuxian’s own breath hitched as he felt the weight of Lan Wangji’s suffering in the way his body trembled, the way his hands gripped desperately at his robes—as if afraid Wei Wuxian would disappear.

Wei Wuxian’s throat tightened.

And then—his own tears fell.

Silent, hot streaks running down his cheeks as he felt the deep, gut-wrenching agony pouring out of Lan Wangji.

He had never heard Lan Wangji cry before.

Lan Wangji, who always stood strong, who never showed weakness, who bore everything alone—

And now, he was sobbing into his chest, shattered beyond words.

Wei Wuxian tightened his hold, his own body trembling with barely contained fury.

Wen Xu.

The name burned in his mind like a curse.

He didn’t know the full extent of what had been done to Lan Wangji—but he didn’t need to.

He felt it in the way Lan Wangji had panicked. In the way his body flinched violently at the mere sight of another figure. In the way his sobs refused to stop, as if the floodgates had finally been torn open after holding back for far too long.

Wei Wuxian closed his eyes, his grip tightening as another tear slipped down his cheek.

I swear, I’ll make him pay.

His fingers dug into the fabric of Lan Wangji’s torn robes.

I’ll destroy him.

His vision blurred as he stroked Lan Wangji’s back soothingly, whispering soft reassurances, pressing his lips briefly against the crown of Lan Wangji’s head.

“I’m here. I won’t leave you. Not ever.”

Lan Wangji’s cries did not stop.

Minutes passed, then an hour. His body wracked with sobs, his grip never loosening even as his strength gave out.

Wei Wuxian held him through it all, whispering his name, rubbing circles into his back, keeping him grounded.

And finally—

Lan Wangji’s body slumped against his.

His breathing slowed. His sobs faded into weak, exhausted hiccups.

Wei Wuxian glanced down—Lan Wangji’s eyes were closed, his face buried in Wei Wuxian’s chest. His lashes were still wet, his expression still tight with remnants of pain—

But he had fallen into exhausted sleep.

Wei Wuxian let out a slow, shaky breath.

His heart burned with grief—and rage.

His arms instinctively tightened around Lan Wangji’s sleeping form.

Wen Xu would pay for every tear Lan Wangji had shed.

For every wound on his body.

For every moment of suffering.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes darkened. His voice, when he spoke, was soft—but filled with ice.

“I swear to you, Lan Zhan. I’ll make him suffer a thousand times worse.”

His fingers brushed against Lan Wangji’s hair, gentle, reverent.

“No one will ever hurt you again. Not while I’m alive.”

And with that silent vow—he held him closer, shielding him from the world.

_________

The fire had dimmed, its embers glowing faintly in the hush of the small hut. Outside, the wind whispered through the trees, rustling the leaves with a gentle murmur. But inside, everything was still.

Wei Wuxian hadn’t moved for what felt like hours.

Lan Wangji remained in his arms, his face buried against Wei Wuxian’s chest, his breathing soft but uneven. His grip on Wei Wuxian’s robes was tight, his fingers curled into the fabric as if afraid that letting go would mean losing everything.

Wei Wuxian exhaled quietly, his hand gently stroking Lan Wangji’s back, his thumb tracing soothing circles along his spine. He could feel the lingering tension in Lan Wangji’s body, the way his muscles twitched even in sleep—as if his mind refused to let go of the terror.

Wei Wuxian clenched his jaw.

He had seen Lan Wangji fight against overwhelming odds, stand tall despite pain, carry the weight of duty without complaint. But now—he was clinging to him like a lifeline, his body trembling even in unconsciousness.

It shattered something inside him.

“Lan Zhan…” Wei Wuxian whispered, his voice hoarse.

He wanted to pull away for just a moment, just long enough to reach for a blanket to cover Lan Wangji properly—but the instant he shifted, the fingers clutching his robes tightened painfully.

A muffled whimper broke the silence.

Wei Wuxian froze.

Lan Wangji’s breath hitched, his grip desperate, as if Wei Wuxian was about to disappear.

Wei Wuxian felt a sharp sting behind his eyes.

“I won’t leave. I promise.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but Lan Wangji heard it.

The trembling in his body lessened slightly, but his hold did not loosen.

Wei Wuxian sighed softly and adjusted his posture, shifting so that he was sitting more comfortably against the wooden wall. He tugged Lan Wangji closer, letting him rest fully against him.

The fire crackled again, its warmth wrapping around them.

Minutes passed. Then an hour.

Lan Wangji’s breathing became steadier, but he still refused to let go.

Wei Wuxian felt a faint, almost bitter smile tug at his lips.

Even now, even after everything, Lan Zhan was still so stubborn.

But this time, Wei Wuxian wouldn’t tease him for it.

Not when he could feel the sheer fear lingering beneath that stubbornness.

Not when he could feel Lan Wangji’s heart pounding so painfully against his own.

After a while, Lan Wangji stirred.

A faint shift, his fingers twitching against Wei Wuxian’s chest. His breath hitched slightly, as if his body was reluctant to leave the comfort of sleep.

Wei Wuxian felt it the moment Lan Wangji became fully aware again.

A sharp intake of breath.

A tense pause.

And then—a frantic grip on his robes.

“Wei Ying—”

Lan Wangji’s voice was raw, barely above a whisper, but the way he **said his name—**as if afraid it would be taken away from him—made Wei Wuxian’s chest ache.

“I’m here.” Wei Wuxian said immediately, pressing a steadying hand against Lan Wangji’s back.

Lan Wangji’s fingers tightened.

He didn’t move away.

He didn’t even try.

Wei Wuxian let out a slow, controlled breath, then shifted slightly so he could see Lan Wangji’s face.

His heart clenched.

Lan Wangji’s eyes were red, his skin pale, his lips slightly parted as if he was struggling to breathe properly. His expression was tight, like he was holding back a flood of emotions that threatened to break through again.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian said softly, his hand brushing against Lan Wangji’s hair. “You’re safe now.”

Lan Wangji swallowed hard. His fingers curled tighter into Wei Wuxian’s robes.

“…Wei Ying.” His voice was barely there.

Wei Wuxian felt something in him break.

This isn’t fair.

Lan Wangji shouldn’t be like this. He shouldn’t be so afraid, so lost.

Lan Wangji was supposed to be the one who stood strong, the one who never wavered, the one who fought back no matter what.

And now—he was trembling in his arms, too scared to even let go for a second.

Wei Wuxian couldn’t take it anymore.

He gently tilted Lan Wangji’s chin up, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“Lan Zhan,” he whispered, “You don’t have to be afraid anymore. I’m here. I won’t leave you.”

Lan Wangji’s eyes widened slightly.

Wei Wuxian saw the conflict there—the instinct to pull back, to suppress everything, to regain control.

But in the end, Lan Wangji didn’t fight it.

Instead—he did the opposite.

He collapsed against Wei Wuxian again.

His forehead pressed against Wei Wuxian’s shoulder, his arms wound tightly around his waist.

And this time—he didn’t cry.

But his silence spoke louder than words.

His grip never eased. His breathing remained uneven. His body still trembled, even as Wei Wuxian’s warmth surrounded him.

And Wei Wuxian—he didn’t say anything either.

He just held him.

One hand cradling the back of Lan Wangji’s head, the other resting against his back, his fingers tracing soothing patterns over his robes.

Minutes passed. Then longer.

Lan Wangji didn’t let go.

Not even for a second.

Wei Wuxian tried to move once—just to adjust their position slightly, to make sure Lan Wangji wasn’t uncomfortable.

But Lan Wangji’s arms immediately tightened around him, his breath hitching in barely-concealed panic.

Wei Wuxian froze.

He let out a quiet sigh, then eased back into stillness.

“…Alright,” he murmured. “I won’t move.”

Lan Wangji let out a small, shaky exhale.

He burrowed closer.

Wei Wuxian felt a helpless chuckle escape his lips, despite the situation.

“Lan Zhan… I knew you were stubborn, but this is a bit much.”

No response.

Only the tightening of Lan Wangji’s grip.

Wei Wuxian’s smile faded.

His heart ached.

His Lan Zhan, the one who always stood so proudly, was clinging to him like a lost child.

It wasn’t funny.

It wasn’t something to tease about.

It was heartbreaking.

Wei Wuxian closed his eyes briefly. Then, carefully, he pressed his lips against Lan Wangji’s hair.

A silent promise.

Lan Wangji stilled slightly—as if the simple gesture brought some form of comfort.

Wei Wuxian tightened his arms around him, letting his warmth sink into Lan Wangji’s frozen bones.

And as the fire crackled softly in the quiet hut, he whispered:

“I won’t let anything take you away from me again.”

Lan Wangji’s breath shuddered.

But he didn’t let go.

And Wei Wuxian held him through the night.

_____________________

The whispering mirror trembled violently, its surface flickering with ghostly wisps of golden light. Wen Xu’s breath hitched as he felt the faint pulse of Lan Wangji’s presence—a delicate, nearly invisible thread that had momentarily connected to the mirror before disappearing again.

His single uncovered eye gleamed with a mixture of satisfaction and fury.

“Finally.”

Lan Wangji had vanished from the tracking crystal before, slipping out of his grasp like mist. Wen Xu had searched relentlessly, sending his beasts and spirits across the realm, but they had found nothing.

Not even a trace.

Now, at last, he had something.

His fingers curled into the stone table before him, his nails digging into the surface. His rage hadn’t subsided—his eye still burned from where Lan Wangji had blinded him—but what mattered now was bringing him back.

No, not just him.

Someone had helped Lan Wangji escape.

That much was clear.

His lips twisted into a smirk. So be it.

He straightened, turning to the dark, twisted creatures kneeling before him—manifestations of this realm, his servants. Their shadowy forms pulsed with anticipation, their eyes glowing with unnatural light, awaiting his command.

“Spread out.” Wen Xu’s voice was sharp as a blade, slicing through the air. “Find them. They cannot escape this realm.”

The creatures did not hesitate. With inhuman screeches, they melted into the darkness, dispersing into the forest beyond.

But Wen Xu wasn’t done.

He waved a hand, summoning forth the Weeping Cages—ethereal, floating prisons made of silken silver threads infused with his dark energy. These cages would roam the realm, capturing anything alive. Even if Lan Wangji and his mysterious savior were hiding, they wouldn’t escape forever.

And if they were foolish enough to run?

The Weeping Cages would drag them back in chains.

Wen Xu laughed lowly, the sound echoing through the air.

Lan Wangji thought he could run from him?

Impossible.

This realm—his realm—had been created for one purpose alone: to break Lan Wangji and take him for himself.

He had spent weeks constructing this world, binding its laws to his will. Here, he was unparalleled, a god who could not be defeated. Even Wei Wuxian, if he had followed Lan Wangji inside, would be powerless here.

No one could stop him.

And when he finally had Lan Wangji again, he would finish what he started.

Wen Xu turned back to the whispering mirror, murmuring an incantation. A faint golden flicker appeared again—weak, barely visible, but there.

Lan Wangji had left a trace.

And he would follow it.

________________

Wei Wuxian’s entire body tensed as the sensation of foreign magic crawled through the air.

Something had changed.

The realm was shifting.

Lan Wangji, still curled against him, felt it too. His breathing grew unsteady, and his fingers clutched at Wei Wuxian’s robes again. Even in sleep, he was tense, his body exhausted but his instincts still warning him of the predator outside.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes darkened.

Wen Xu was getting closer.

He had already guessed that Wen Xu would try to find them again—but he had hoped to remain hidden until the portal reopened.

Now, however, it was clear that Wen Xu was hunting.

Wei Wuxian tightened his arms around Lan Wangji, feeling the weight of his exhaustion, the fragility of his body after the torment.

They couldn’t afford to be found.

He leaned down, murmuring softly.

“Lan Zhan.”

Lan Wangji’s lashes fluttered before his golden eyes opened, still hazy with exhaustion and lingering fear. But the moment he met Wei Wuxian’s gaze, the tension in his body lessened.

“…Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian gave him a small, reassuring smile before shifting slightly, his tone calm but firm.

“We have to move.”

Lan Wangji didn’t question him. He only nodded, slowly trying to sit up. But the moment he did, he swayed, his breath hitching.

Wei Wuxian caught him immediately.

His heart clenched.

Lan Wangji was still too weak.

But there was no choice.

Wei Wuxian carefully helped him up, wrapping his red outer robe around him more securely. Then, he reached into his sleeve and pulled out the artifact his grandmother had given him.

A small jade talisman, glowing faintly.

This was what had kept them hidden so far.

It would need to hold for a little longer.

He pressed the talisman against Lan Wangji’s wrist, murmuring a spell.

A faint shimmer surrounded them both before disappearing.

Lan Wangji watched silently, trusting him completely.

Wei Wuxian took a deep breath. Now they had to move.

Silently, he led Lan Wangji out of the hut, keeping an arm around his waist to steady him. The night was dark, the trees stretching endlessly in every direction. It was a dangerous path.

But they had to reach the portal’s location before Wen Xu’s forces closed in.

Lan Wangji stumbled slightly, and Wei Wuxian immediately tightened his hold.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered.

Lan Wangji gave a faint nod, his grip on Wei Wuxian’s sleeve tightening.

They disappeared into the darkness.

--------

A monstrous howl split through the air.

Wen Xu snarled, his good eye glowing with fury.

They were still hidden.

Even with all his tracking spells, with his Weeping Cages roaming the land, he still couldn’t find them.

Something was protecting them.

His teeth clenched.

Who?

Who had given Wei Wuxian the power to defy him in his own realm?

He slammed his fist into the whispering mirror, cracking the surface.

He had only four hours before the portal reopened.

four hours to find them.

And if he failed—

No.

Failure was not an option.

His lips curled into a snarl of rage.

If he couldn’t track them down directly—

Then he would bring the entire realm down on them.

He turned to his creatures, his voice like thunder.

“Burn the forest.”

The creatures screeched in eerie delight.

And then—the flames began.

---

The first thing Wei Wuxian felt was the heat.

He whipped around, eyes widening as he saw the trees ignite one by one, spreading in a circle around them.

Wen Xu had set the entire forest ablaze.

He was trapping them.

Lan Wangji gasped quietly, his grip on Wei Wuxian tightening.

Wei Wuxian’s mind raced.

They had to move faster.

Gritting his teeth, he pulled Lan Wangji forward, his heart pounding. The portal was close—it had to be.

The flames surged higher, but the talisman continued to shield them from detection. They just needed to last a little longer.

Then—Wei Wuxian saw it.

A faint golden shimmer in the distance.

The portal.

His heart leaped.

“Lan Zhan, hold on,” he whispered.

Lan Wangji nodded, his steps unsteady but determined.

They rushed forward—toward freedom.

Wen Xu would never reach them in time.

And when they crossed that threshold, this entire realm—**and Wen Xu’s twisted ambitions—**would crumble into dust.

The air shimmered with heat, the flames creeping closer like living beasts, licking at the trees and consuming the dry undergrowth with a hunger that mirrored Wen Xu’s obsession.

Wei Wuxian’s breath was steady, but his pulse was a rapid drum against his ribs. His mind raced, calculating every escape route, every possible move to keep Lan Wangji safe—to keep both of them alive.

Lan Wangji was pale, his body still weak from everything Wen Xu had done to him, but he moved with unwavering resolve, his grip on Wei Wuxian’s sleeve tight.

They had no time.

The Weeping Cages had been released.

Wei Wuxian knew what they were—dark, ethereal traps that floated through the air like ghostly tendrils, sensing life, and when they found their target, they would wrap around them, locking them in a prison of spiritual silk.

And the worst part?

They were indestructible in this realm.

Wei Wuxian had already tried breaking one when he first entered this cursed place. His spiritual energy had done nothing.

If one of those cages caught them, it would all be over.

The portal that would take them home would only remain open for a few moments.

They had to make it in time.

Or they would be trapped in this realm forever.

---
They were following the energy of the portal when suddenly the artifact keeping them hidden , exhausted of its energy stopped working.
Wei wuxian mind worked fast and he started moving faster towards the portal.
But they were detected.

The first beast descended from the trees above them, its massive, hulking body hitting the ground with a sickening crunch.

It had no face—only a gaping, black void where a mouth should be, pulsing with writhing tendrils of darkness. Its body was covered in scales that shifted and cracked, revealing raw, exposed flesh beneath.

Lan Wangji tensed beside him, his breathing ragged.

Wei Wuxian’s hand flew to his talismans, his fingers closing around the protective spell he had prepared in advance.

“Hold on,” he whispered.

The beast lunged.

Wei Wuxian threw the talisman down, and immediately, a barrier of golden light erupted between them and the monster.

The creature slammed into it with a shriek, its body twisting unnaturally as it rebounded off the shield.

But Wei Wuxian knew this wouldn’t hold for long.

They had to keep moving.

He grabbed Lan Wangji’s wrist and pulled him forward, running through the dense forest as the shadows closed in behind them.

More beasts emerged from the trees, their grotesque forms crawling from the shadows. Some moved on all fours, their backs arched unnaturally, their elongated fingers digging into the earth as they sniffed out their prey.

Wei Wuxian’s breath burned in his lungs, but he didn’t stop.

They just had to reach the portal.

Then—

A Weeping Cage came into view.

It hovered in the air, floating like a ghost, its tendrils of silver silk drifting and pulsing, searching for a target.

Wei Wuxian skidded to a stop, pulling Lan Wangji back sharply.

Too close.

If they stepped even a little further, it would sense them.

Lan Wangji was breathing heavily, but his hand never left Wei Wuxian’s sleeve. His golden eyes flickered between the cage and the beasts closing in behind them.

They were trapped.

Wei Wuxian’s mind worked furiously.

If the cage was attuned to life…

His gaze fell to the dark, twisted branches above them.

A thought struck him.

It was risky, but they had no choice.

“Lan Zhan,” he murmured, tilting his head toward the trees.

Lan Wangji understood immediately.

They moved at the same time, launching themselves upward. Wei Wuxian grabbed onto a thick branch, hoisting himself up just as Lan Wangji followed.

The Weeping Cage remained motionless, its tendrils wavering slightly, but it did not react.

Wei Wuxian exhaled.

It was as he had thought—the cages were designed to sense movement on the ground, likely set up to catch Lan Wangji if he tried to escape.

Which meant—

A terrible screech cut through the air.

Wei Wuxian’s head snapped to the side.

One of the beasts had seen them.

It let out an ear-piercing wail, its hollow mouth stretching wide before it jumped—

Straight into the Weeping Cage.

The moment it touched the glowing silver threads, the cage snapped shut.

The beast screamed.

Wei Wuxian flinched as the creature convulsed, its body twisting violently as the cage’s silk burrowed into its skin.

Then—silence.

The cage floated upward again, the beast now trapped inside, its body hanging limp like a broken puppet.

Wei Wuxian felt Lan Wangji tense beside him.

They had barely avoided the same fate.

But they couldn’t afford to be careful anymore.

Because the beasts were still coming.

---

Wei Wuxian jumped from the tree, landing lightly before pulling Lan Wangji down with him.

They ran.

The shadows twisted, shifting unnaturally, but the portal was close.

Wei Wuxian could feel it now—the flicker of energy that didn’t belong to this realm.

Lan Wangji’s breathing was unsteady, but he kept pace with Wei Wuxian, even as his body threatened to collapse from exhaustion.

Just a little further.

Then—

The air changed.

Wei Wuxian felt it instantly.

The air in the shadowed realm was thick with malice, pressing against them like an invisible weight. Wei Wuxian felt the shift before he saw him—the sickening wave of dark energy that rippled through the ground, warping reality itself.

Wen Xu had arrived.

Lan Wangji flinched, instinctively taking a step back. His body, weakened from the torment he had endured, trembled slightly as his grip tightened on Wei Wuxian’s sleeve. Before he could stop himself, he moved closer, pressing his face against Wei Wuxian’s shoulder, hiding from the predator before them.

A cruel laugh split the silence.

Wen Xu stood at the edge of the clearing, his eye gleaming with amusement and something far darker. His robes, black with the embroidered insignia of the Wen Clan, fluttered around him as if the darkness itself obeyed his command.

“Well, well,” Wen Xu sneered, crossing his arms. “What happened to that strength you had when you took my eye, Hanguang-Jun?”

Lan Wangji froze.

His grip on Wei Wuxian’s sleeve tightened until his knuckles turned white.

Wei Wuxian stepped forward immediately, shifting so that his body shielded Lan Wangji completely. His red robes flared with the movement, forming a protective barrier between his Lan Zhan and the monster who had tormented him.

Wen Xu’s smirk widened. His gaze slid past Wei Wuxian, clearly trying to get a glimpse of Lan Wangji.

Wei Wuxian moved again, blocking his line of sight.

“Oh?” Wen Xu chuckled, amusement dripping from his voice. “A little protective, are we?”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes darkened, his fingers twitching over his talismans. Every muscle in his body was coiled tight, waiting for the moment to strike.

But Wen Xu was unfazed. He tilted his head, a mockery of curiosity.

“Do you think hiding him behind you will change anything?” Wen Xu said smoothly. “You may have forced your way into this realm, Wei Wuxian, but let me make something clear—you will never save him.”

Wei Wuxian gritted his teeth.

The oppressive air of this realm was suffocating. He could feel the energy Wen Xu had poured into it—this place was his creation, his domain.

Wei Wuxian’s chances of winning here were slim.

But that had never stopped him before.

Wen Xu suddenly let out a short laugh. “I can’t say I blame you for being so desperate.” He licked his lips, his eye gleaming. “No one in their right mind would want to leave behind an Omega like Lan Wangji.”

Wei Wuxian stilled.

A slow, terrible rage began to build in his chest.

Wen Xu’s smile widened, sensing it.

He leaned forward slightly, voice dropping into something dark and vile.

“Aah,” Wen Xu sighed, as if savoring a memory. “How delicious he looked beneath me… skin so soft, so tender. Such a pity I couldn’t—”

Wei Wuxian lunged.

With a snarl, he rushed forward, talismans crackling with power as his spiritual energy flared.

But Wen Xu barely lifted a hand.

A shockwave of energy blasted from his palm, slamming into Wei Wuxian’s chest before he could land his attack.

Wei Wuxian was hurled backwards, his body twisting violently through the air before he crashed against the stone ground.

Blood splattered from his mouth.

Lan Wangji’s breath caught in his throat. His hands clenched into trembling fists, his entire body screaming at him to move.

But he could barely stand.

Wei Wuxian groaned, spitting blood onto the cracked ground. His limbs shook as he forced himself onto his hands and knees.

A hand closed around his throat.

Wei Wuxian was yanked into the air, Wen Xu’s fingers tightening like an iron vice.

He struggled, clawing at Wen Xu’s wrist, but the Wen heir’s grip was unrelenting.

Lan Wangji took a step forward.

Wen Xu turned toward him, smirking.

His boots crunched against the shattered remains of Wei Wuxian’s talisman as he began to move forward, dragging Wei Wuxian with him like he was nothing more than a doll.

Lan Wangji instinctively took another step back.

Wen Xu laughed, a deep, mocking sound.

“I was angry before, you know,” Wen Xu mused, his grip tightening on Wei Wuxian’s throat. “But I’ve reconsidered.”

Lan Wangji’s fingers curled against his sides.

“I’ll give you another chance,” Wen Xu purred. “Come back to me willingly, and I’ll forgive your little act of rebellion.”

Lan Wangji’s breath hitched.

Wei Wuxian, still struggling in Wen Xu’s grasp, froze.

Wen Xu’s smirk widened. “You have a choice, Lan Wangji.” He tilted his head, eye glinting dangerously. “Come back willingly, or I’ll kill Wei Wuxian right here.”

Lan Wangji stopped breathing.

“I’ll let you decide,” Wen Xu continued, his voice light. “Doesn’t matter to me either way.”

With a snap of his fingers, Wei Wuxian’s body locked in place.

Chains of dark energy curled around him, forcing him to his knees as thousands of black swords materialized in the air.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes widened.

The blades hovered above him, their tips gleaming menacingly as they aimed for his neck.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to save your husband,” Wen Xu sighed. “I’ll just—”

The swords shot forward.

“WAIT!”

Lan Wangji’s scream shattered the air.

The swords stopped.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes snapped toward Lan Wangji in horror.

“Lan Zhan, NO!”

But Lan Wangji wasn’t looking at him anymore.

His gaze was locked on Wen Xu, and in that moment, something in his golden eyes broke.

“I…” Lan Wangji swallowed, his throat trembling. He lowered his gaze.

“I will… willingly submit.”

Wei Wuxian’s blood turned cold.

Lan Wangji’s hands shook as he took a step forward.

Then another.

Then—

Wei Wuxian moved.

He tore free from the energy chains, his hand flying to his talismans.

Before Wen Xu could react, Wei Wuxian’s talisman erupted in blinding golden light.

The explosion threw Wen Xu backwards.

Wei Wuxian lunged for Lan Wangji, gripping his wrist—

And shoved him through the portal.

---

Lan Wangji’s vision blurred as he stumbled into the portal.

The world around him shifted—colors bleeding into each other, the air vibrating as if the entire realm was collapsing.

He turned sharply—

And froze.

Wei Wuxian was still on the other side.

A transparent, mirror-like barrier separated them.

Lan Wangji’s heart slammed against his ribs.

Wei Wuxian smiled softly from the other side, his dark eyes filled with gentle sadness.

“Take care of yourself, Lan Zhan.”

Then—

A burst of energy erupted from Wen Xu’s palm, slamming into Wei Wuxian’s chest.

Lan Wangji’s eyes widened in horror.

Blood gushed from Wei Wuxian’s mouth, his nose, his ears—

He collapsed.

“WEI YING!”

Lan Wangji screamed.

But—the scene before him blurred.

And suddenly—

He was outside the portal.

Lan Wangji threw himself against the barrier.

His hands banged against it violently, his nails scraping against the glassy surface until blood dripped from his fingers.

“Let me through!”

No response.

Tears blurred his vision. His hands trembled as he pounded at the portal, his knees giving out beneath him.

“Wei Ying…”

His vision darkened.

The last thing he saw was the blurry image of a woman stepping toward him.

Then—darkness.

Chapter Text

The moment Wen Xu saw Wei Wuxian collapse, a smirk curled on his lips. Victory was his.

Wei wuxian lay in a pool of his own blood, breath weak, fingers twitching against the fractured ground. The realm trembled, its very foundation crumbling, but Wen Xu paid no heed.

It was over.

Or so he thought.

A sound—low, raspy—slithered through the void.

It started as a whisper, a choked breath laced with blood. But then, it grew. A chuckle, rich and dark, spilling through the air like venom.

Wen Xu’s smirk faltered.

Wei Wuxian lifted his head, grinning despite the crimson dripping from his lips. His dark eyes gleamed—an abyss filled with something unholy, something far worse than any ghost Wen Xu had ever summoned.

“You—” Wen Xu took a step forward, his instincts screaming at him to stop.

Wei Wuxian cut him off.

“You were so desperate to kill me,” he rasped, amusement lacing his hoarse voice. “So blinded by your own arrogance… that you failed to see it.”

Something inside Wen Xu twisted.

Wei Wuxian tilted his head, his smirk widening. “Did you really think I wouldn’t have a backup plan? That I would let Lan Zhan stay here with you?”

The color drained from Wen Xu’s face.

His head snapped toward the portal—

Empty.

Lan Wangji was gone.

“No!” Wen Xu’s roar ripped through the collapsing realm. His spiritual energy surged, golden light crackling around him, but the shift had already begun.

A deafening crack split the void.

The realm shuddered violently, fissures tearing through the ground, widening like the jagged jaws of some unseen beast. Wen Xu staggered, his core twisting in agony. The sky fractured like shattered glass, pieces of dark energy peeling away into nothingness.

Wei Wuxian moved.

Despite his wounds, he stood tall.

His robes billowed in an unseen wind, soaked in blood yet untouched by weakness. He lifted a trembling, bloodstained hand—

And then—

A pulse of red light exploded from his core.

It wasn’t the soft glow of ordinary cultivation. It was something else.

It was raw power—fire and shadow, blood and vengeance. The very air trembled, vibrating with a frequency beyond the mortal realm.

Behind him, the shadows coiled, twisting, writhing—

Then, they took form.

A dragon.

Ten times his size, its massive, serpentine body curled in the air, a beast woven from black and crimson energy. Its scales shimmered like molten iron, and its eyes—two burning stars of endless red—pierced the darkness.

Wei Wuxian exhaled.

The dragon inhaled.

Then—

The beast let out a roar that shattered the void itself.

Wen Xu stumbled back.

For the first time since this battle began—since he had taken the first life in his brutal reign—true fear gripped his heart.

Wei Wuxian’s gaze locked onto him, his eyes no longer their usual shade of stormy darkness.

They glowed.

Crimson and unrelenting.

The eyes of a devil.

“You,” Wei Wuxian whispered.

His expression twisted.

“You dared to touch him.”

The shadows lunged.

---No—no, this wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

Wen Xu gritted his teeth, his mind racing. He had anticipated a fierce battle. He had expected Wei Wuxian to be relentless.

But this?

This was something else.

This was not the Wei Wuxian , the son of jiang clan of the cultivation world . This was something much, much worse.

A beast that had been restrained for too long. A god of vengeance that had finally been unleashed.

And he—Wen Xu—was nothing more than prey.

The first tendril lashed out.

It struck his arm—sharp, cold, digging beneath his skin like an invading parasite.

Then another.

And another.

The black tendrils wrapped around his limbs, lifting him into the air like a puppet on fraying strings. Pain lanced through his nerves, a burning agony so intense it forced a raw, guttural scream from his throat.

Wei Wuxian stalked closer.

Each step was deliberate.

Each step was slow.

A predator savoring his kill.

“You thought you could break him,” Wei Wuxian murmured. “You thought you could take him.”

The dragon behind him growled, deep and guttural, sending shockwaves through the air.

Wen Xu thrashed, but the restraints held firm.

How? How had it come to this?

Wei Wuxian was a mistake—an outlier, a shadow that should have been erased long ago.

And yet—

He stands before him like a god of death.

Wei Wuxian raised a hand—

The shadows obeyed.

They curled tighter around Wen Xu’s arms—

Then—

Snap.

The sound of Wen Xu’s shoulder dislocating rang through the crumbling void.

His scream followed, raw and agonized.

Wei Wuxian smiled.

“Did that hurt?” he asked softly.

Wen Xu gasped, chest heaving, sweat dripping from his temple. His body convulsed, pain radiating from every nerve.

Wei Wuxian knelt beside him.

Their faces were inches apart.

“Good,” he whispered.

The shadows surged.

A tendril coiled around Wen Xu’s remaining good eye, yanking his head up—forcing him to look directly at Wei Wuxian.

Wen Xu’s eyes widened.

He saw it now.

He saw what Wei Wuxian truly was.

Not just a cultivator. Not just a son of jiang clan.

He was something beyond human.

Something older, something the world had long feared but never dared name.

The heir of the Immortal Baosan Sanren.

The son of the forgotten royal bloodline.

The child who should have died long ago—but instead, rose from the ashes, stronger, vengeful, divine in his wrath.

He never stood a chance.

The realization hit him like a blade through his chest.

All this time—Wen Xu had thought himself superior. That the Wen Clan held all the power. That Wei Wuxian was nothing more than a rebellious dog who needed to be put down.

He was wrong.

The true monster in this world had never been the Wen Clan.

It had always been him.

Wei Wuxian’s expression was unreadable, but his eyes burned with pure malice.

“An eye for an eye,” he murmured. “Isn’t that what you always believed?”

Wen Xu gasped, his body trembling violently. He struggled, his arms jerking, but the restraints tightened, rendering him utterly helpless.

Wei Wuxian’s fingers twitched—

A dagger of shadow materialized above Wen Xu’s eye.

Shimmering with malevolent energy, it hovered—

Waiting.

“Wait—” Wen Xu choked.

Wei Wuxian smiled.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured, almost gently. “I won’t kill you just yet.”

Then—

The dagger plunged forward.

Wen Xu’s scream shattered the realm.

The blade sank deep into his eye, twisting mercilessly. A sickening squelch followed as blood and viscous fluid spilled down his face, dripping onto the fractured ground.

Wei Wuxian watched, his expression unreadable.

Then, softly—

“This pain?” He tilted his head. “It’s nothing compared to what you did to Lan Zhan.”

The shadows pulsed.

New tendrils coiled around Wen Xu’s ribs.

Then—

Crack.

His first rib shattered.

Crack.

His second followed.

Each snap sent fresh agony coursing through Wen Xu’s body. His back arched, his screams hoarse, body writhing against the restraints.

Wei Wuxian listened.

He savored every broken gasp.

Every shattered plea.

But even as Wen Xu lay broken before him, something in Wei Wuxian’s expression darkened.

“This isn’t enough,” he murmured.

His fingers curled—

And the dragon roared.

The beast lunged, its massive jaws parting—

---

No.

Wen Xu’s mind screamed at him, his body broken, his vision blurring. No, no, I refuse to die here.

He reached within his robes, fingers trembling, digging for the last hope he had left.

His father’s talisman.

Forged from the Demon Realm’s power, infused with the blood of a thousand fallen cultivators.

A single-use escape technique.

He had scoffed at it before. Had believed he would never need to run.

Now—he understood.

He had to survive.

His blood dripped onto the talisman—activating it.

The moment before the dragon’s jaws closed around him—

A dark explosion erupted between them.

The force sent Wei Wuxian skidding back, shadows unraveling in a violent gust.

When the dust settled—

Wen Xu was gone.

Wei Wuxian’s glowing eyes flickered. His breath came in harsh, ragged gasps, his chest rising and falling as exhaustion seeped into his bones.

The realm—

It was collapsing completely.

Wei Wuxian swayed. Blood dripped from his fingertips, still warm, still fresh.

His lips curled.

“Run while you can,” he whispered into the empty void.

Then—

He turned.

His body felt heavy. His vision blurred. But none of that mattered.

Lan Wangji was waiting for him.

And this time—

Nothing would stop him from returning.

_______________________

The first thing Lan Wangji felt upon waking was the aching heaviness in his body. His limbs were sluggish, his head throbbed with dull pain, and his chest felt constricted—like something vital had been ripped away from him. The scent of herbs and incense filled the air, familiar yet oddly suffocating.

His golden eyes fluttered open, greeted by the wooden ceiling of an infirmary. A soft, warm light flickered in the corner, illuminating the pristine room with a calming glow. For a moment, there was silence. The world seemed still, as if time itself had stopped.

Then—like a crashing wave—memories surged back.

Wei Wuxian.

The collapsing realm.

Blood pouring from Wei Wuxian’s face, staining the ground beneath him, his body wracked with pain. The desperate last moment when Lan Wangji had reached for him—only for the void to rip them apart.

A cold chill ran through Lan Wangji’s veins.

He sat up abruptly, ignoring the sharp sting of pain lancing through his body. His breath came in ragged gasps as panic clawed its way into his chest. Wei Wuxian—where was he? Was he still in that place? Had he—

No. No.

He refused to think of the worst.

"You're awake," came a voice, careful and measured.

Lan Wangji turned sharply, his gaze locking onto Wen Qing, who was standing beside his bed. She looked exhausted, dark circles under her usually sharp eyes, her robes slightly disheveled. Her arms were crossed, but there was a tenseness in her posture—a wariness that set Lan Wangji further on edge.