“You must never let the sun go down on your anger,” one of his sixth cousins advises him. “If you fight with your husband, you must make up with him before you go to bed. Neither of you should ever have the chance to sleep on it.”
“I do not fight with my husband,” Lan Wangji says, bemused. “I have never fought with him, not since the Sunshot Campaign.”
And then, a little smugly, he adds–
“The only thing we quarrel over is my attentiveness to him. He thinks I dote too much, and I believe I do not treasure him enough. But I have swayed him on that subject every time, so it is irrelevant.”
His third cousin, Lan Liu, throws up her hands in dismay. “Wangji! It breaks my heart to see him reject you so cold-heartedly–for heaven’s sake, at least listen to us! Of course an outsider would know nothing about the strength of a Lan’s love, so I do not mean that he is in the wrong exactly, but still–how can you bear it?”
Wei Ying, rejecting him! Lan Wangji nearly laughs out loud–how could anyone say that Wei Ying rejects him, when his hands began to grasp for Lan Wangji’s sleeve the moment he leaves their bed in the morning, and when he quivers like a crimson maple leaf whenever Lan Wangji touches him? If anyone–anyone at all–ever saw the way Wei Ying glows when Lan Wangji praises his cooking, or takes a second helping of it, or fusses over Xiao-Yu, how could they even dream that Lan Wangji’s love was being rejected?
Marriage has been everything Lan Wangji ever dreamed of and more (save for the worrying development of his husband’s increased lethargy in the evenings and the way anything too sour or spicy seems to make him ill–but the cure for that turned out to be bland, plain foods and plenty of rest, thank heaven) and he is so heart-breakingly happy that Xichen can hardly keep himself from laughing out loud at the sight of him.
“Being married to him is bliss,” he says softly, his lips trembling at the memory of Wei Ying combing his hair for him that very morning, and helping him dress it and tying on his ribbon before kissing him goodbye. “I am happy, Liu-jie. So much so that I can scarcely hold it.”
(meanwhile, on the other side of the Cloud Recesses:)
“Lan-san-gongzi!” a little voice shouts at the gate fencing off the rabbit field, as Wei Wuxian sits on the other side of it with Xiao-Yu and a heap of baby rabbits piled up in his lap. “I’m here to–to challenge you!”
Wei Wuxian squints against the afternoon sun and jumps at the sight of one of Lan Zhan’s little cousins glaring down at him.
“Little Lan Li? What are you doing here?” he asks. He recognizes the little boy from Sizhui’s infant calligraphy lessons, and then bites back a snort before deciding to go along with whatever chip the child seems to have on his shoulder. “And challenge me, A-Li? What for?”
“For breaking Hanguang-jun’s heart, and flouting all the laws that govern a good and happy marriage! Now stand up and fight me like–like a true, honorable and chivalrous gentleman!”