warriorgardener

[warriorgardener]

March 9th

Lan Xichen clasped his hands behind his back just like his uncle, following his every step through the dark forest. During night hunts, Lan Qiren focused on managing the efforts of the Lan sect disciples and serving as a point of communication for any questions or concerns. His little nephew kept his eyes and ears open to absorb as much information as he could. Even though he was not yet old enough to go on night hunts himself, he knew that someday this would be his job as well.

A high-pitched scream pierced his ears. A crack resounded in the sky, illuminated a glowing red. Lan Xichen looked up with wide eyes. “A signal flare?”

Lan Qiren frowned. “A junior is in trouble. Stay here until I return.”

Lan Xichen started forward, about to say that he wanted to go with him, but quickly shut his mouth and stopped in his tracks. If he disobeyed, he would not be able to go with uncle in the future. Besides, he was not strong enough to help if someone was in trouble.

So he remained alone in the dark. After a while, his mind became disquieted, so he sat down to meditate. Not long after he closed his eyes, a rustling in the bushes disturbed him. Standing before him, tall and majestic, was a white deer. Its antlers shimmered in the faint moonlight as if carved from opal. Warm breath steamed from its nostrils. However, two things took away from Lan Xichen’s awe of its beauty: the forest had gone completely silent, and the creature’s eyes glowed with spiritual energy.

If Lan Xichen had sensed a demonic presence, he would have sprung into action. But no resentment radiated from the deer as it slowly approached him. Lan Xichen reached out a hand. The deer lowered its head and touched its nose to his palm. Everything went black.

***

Meng Yao swung a basket as he walked The first cresting of dawn touched the tall, dewy grass with gold. The narrow trail, stamped down by herds of deer rather than human footfall, wandered along the edge of the forest to a patch of sweet berry bushes. If he reached far enough into the bushes, ignoring the thorns, he might find a few juicy, ripened berries to bring home to his mother today.

The trail dipped into a steep ditch, which Meng Yao almost slid down in eagerness to reach his destination. There he stumbled upon a white ghost. No, not a ghost, but rather a solid body. Unafraid of death as it came to others, he knelt down by the pale figure. He was surprised to see that it was a boy his own age, breathing faintly but evenly as if asleep. His face was as slender and clear as jade, his eyelashes long and dark. His silky hair spilled around him, as black and smooth as the finest ink.

Meng Yao wondered if he had come across a fallen immortal, a young god that had been somehow struck out of the sky by a loose star in the night. It was like the beginning of a story, the kind of tale sung in songs late at night as the pleasure house ladies entertained their guests. Then he chided himself for these fantastical thoughts and gently shook the boy’s shoulder.

He awoke gently. As his dazed expression turned to Meng Yao, he gifted a small smile, his eyes now clear and unafraid.

“Are you okay?” Meng Yao asked. His soft tone was almost reverent. To him, this boy seemed as if he belonged in a palace in a sky.

The boy sat upright and arranged himself into a proper kneeling position on the wet ground to greet him as if in a formal meeting. “Yes. But I do not know where I am.”

“This is the forest outside of Yuping. If you’re lost, you should come home with me. My mother knows all about the families around here. She can find your parents for sure.”

At this, a faintly pained expression flickered across the boy’s face. It did not escape Meng Yao’s notice.

Tentatively, he asked, “Unless…are you alone?” How could a boy wearing such fine clothes be an orphan? Perhaps he really was a lost immortal.

The boy had fisted his hands into his white robes, but as soon as he looked down at himself, he released his grip and smoothed out the wrinkles. “All I remember is riding a white deer. But such a thing…surely it was a dream.”

Meng Yao’s heart softened even more for this beautiful, ethereal person in trouble. He had never held the power to help anyone before, not even his mother, but now it seemed that he was the only person in the world who could be this boy’s savior.

“Don’t be afraid.” Boldness filled his tone now. “I’ll help you.” He extended his hand and felt a thrill as the boy reached out without hesitation. Although he made no complaint, his palm was cold in Meng Yao’s hand. He had no gloves or extra layer to give to the one now suddenly under his wing, so he could only hold his hand tighter and hope to impart some warmth that way.

“My name is Meng Yao,” he added as they climbed from the ditch.

“I don’t know my name.”

“That’s okay, I can call you—“ Meng Yao blinked up at him. Because he felt so protective over his unexpected charge, he had already decided this was his little brother, but now on even ground he realized that his so-called little brother was much bigger than him. Rather than being disappointed, a new flutter of excitement filled his chest. “Er-ge?”

The boy smiled warmly at him. Some of the worry and confusion that seemed to weigh on his shoulders melted away. “Mm. Okay.”

***

Meng Shi was not surprised when her little boy ran into their quarters first thing in the morning with the faint, fresh smell of pine and morning air blowing in with him. She was, however, forced to school her expression into one of careful delight when he exclaimed, “Mom! I brought a friend from the forest!”

She mentally prepared herself for a small bird, a large bug, or a medium-sized rodent. Instead, Meng Yao tugged in a boy nearly a head taller than him. Although a little shy, the young master had the upright bearing of good upbringing. He was dressed in fine quality silks which appeared to have been dragged through mud. Moreover, his robes were that of a cultivation sect, though apparently not one that acquainted itself with her line of work, so she had no idea which one it could be.

“He’s lost and can’t remember anything,” Meng Yao explained, a little more cheerful than the circumstances warranted. “So I promised to help him!”

Meng Shi rubbed her brow. Whatever cultivation clan this young master came from might not take kindly to their involvement. However, abandoning a lost child was out of the question. And there was a small chance that this situation could help advance Meng Yao’s education as a cultivator before he was introduced formally to the Jin sect.

“That’s very virtuous of you, A-Yao.” She knelt down at eye level to to the boy. “Little one, do you really not remember anything that could help us find your home?”

He shook his head, his gaze clear and unafraid. “No, Madame, I remember nothing before waking up in the forest.”

Poor dear. Even at his young age, he had fine, straight features and a noble countenance. He was surely cherished by his whole family and bound to grow into a great beauty. She hummed thoughtfully. “I have many friends in the city. I will ask them which sect has white robes like yours, and then I will bring you to them straight away.”

A slight pout had formed on Meng Yao’s face. She turned to him with a faint, knowing smile and clasped his hands as if in dire supplication. “A-Yao, you must continue taking good care of your friend while I’m gone. We don’t know who else he can count on right now. Can you do it?”

“I will!” he said, his enthusiasm bordering on fierceness. The determination on his small face was so cute, she resisted the urge to pinch his cheeks and quickly prepared to leave.

***

Lan Xichen looked at Meng Yao for a long while after his mother left. He was small and had a cute face with bright eyes, but he seemed far more capable and clever than many at his age. A lot of Lan Xichen’s unease upon waking had faded simply by being held under his attention.

After a moment, he hesitantly said, “A-Yao?”

Meng Yao flushed pink in the face. “…yes?”

“Can I not call you that?”

“Only my mother calls me that…”

“I see.”

“But you can say it too. I’ll make a special exception.”

Lan Xichen smiled and A-Yao smiled back at him, revealing a dimple on each side of his face. “Er-Ge, do you like music? My mom can play a lot of instruments. I can show you them.”

“I’d like to see them. Can you play?”

Meng Yao shook his head as he led him into another room. “No, she won’t teach me.”

Lan Xichen slowly looked over the instruments. His gaze rested on one in particular. Without realizing it, he had drawn nearer and even reached out to touch it before quickly withdrawing his hand.

“The guqin? You can play it if you want.”

“I don’t know if I can…” A tension was building in his temple, as if something was being stretched or pulled from within.

Meng Yao sat on the floor in front of it and idly plucked a few strings. “Sure you can. Look, it’s easy.”

He swept his robes neatly behind him and sat next to Meng Yao to watch him pluck at random notes for a few moments. Then he lay his hands to the strings and did the same. A simple, airy melody filled the room as he played. Then he began to tremble with a discordant fear, not knowing how or why or what he played. Lan Xichen ripped his hands away and folded them into his sleeves, ducking his head.

“Er-ge, it’s really beautiful when you play. Will you teach me someday?

Lan Xichen’s quaking heart began to calm as a hand reached over and touched his sleeve. There was no way he could know whether there would be a someday between them, but somehow Meng Yao knew that just the faint, hopeful promise of a familiar future would soothe him.

“I will.”

Meng Yao leaned in and bumped his shoulder. “It will have to be our secret then.”

Lan Xichen had never had a secret before, he was sure of it. The excitement he felt was entirely new. It felt like hiding a flame behind his cupped palm to stay awake reading at night.

***

However, Meng Yao soon carried the secret alone. When his mother returned, she was accompanied by several men in white cultivation uniforms. A man with a thin mustache and beard announced that he was Er-ge’s uncle and took him by the arm.

Meng Yao was afraid of their grim expressions and the swords at their sides and the way they wanted to take him away so quickly. He clung to Er-ge’s other arm and begged to go with him, even as his mother hushed him and tried to pull him away.

“Cease your foolishness, child. There is no time to waste,” said the man.

To Er-ge, he continued, “The demonic beast that stole your memories is trapped in a spiritual array, but your memories will soon disperse if you are not placed into an array as well. You must obey at once.”

Er-ge’s eyes widened. He looked back at Meng Yao once. “A-Yao…”

His grip slowly dropped away. He nodded. He knew he had no choice but to go.

Er-ge obediently followed his uncle’s quick steps, but then wrenched free to run back to Meng Yao, hugging him tightly. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll come back soon to thank you properly.”

Meng Yao had also told him not to be afraid that very morning. The same words handed gently back to him like a borrowed coat, washed and folded neatly upon its return, only made him more anxious that this was goodbye.

He watched Er-ge leave through the door, then ran to the window to watch with amazement as his uncle and the others flew away with him on their swords.

“Who are they?” he asked his mother.

“The Lan clan of Gusu.” She sat with him by the window, looking pensive.

“Is Er-ge’s name also Lan?”

“They did not deign to tell me his name. But the situation was quite urgent. Perhaps we will learn his name when they return.” She stroked his head to comfort him, but Meng Yao did not need any more comfort. Er-ge had already promised to come back.

Only he never did. Over the years, Meng Yao had come up with dozens of reasons why, but he never learned the truth until they happened to meet again. The boy he rescued so long ago was none other than Lan Xichen, future head of the Lan clan. And he did not remember Meng Yao at all.

Meng Yao burned inside. The memory of their meeting had somehow been eaten up in exchange for those which had been restored. The pain of being so completely forgotten after bearing the weight of remembrance for years stung him like a fresh whipping atop old scars. But beneath that pain came a cool balm, restoring him to a thin sense of peacefulness. Lan Xichen had never returned to him because he had no way of knowing his own promise. He had not been betrayed as he once thought.

This was enough. He could start over again.

“Are you okay? Don’t be afraid. I’ll help you.”

[warriorgardener]

March 8th

Shi Qinxguan had a brilliant, perfect plan. Being the star socialite of her university made it all too easy. All she had to do was throw an amazing party, invite absolutely everyone, and lay in wait for the hot goth guy in her classic-literature-or-whatever class to show up. She’d reel him in like a fish, and not a very big one at that! Any guy on campus would be lucky to have her attention and she was not above a little charity work when an unappreciated specimen of handsomeness fell within her sphere of influence.

Besides, the two of them used to be such good friends when they were little. It wasn’t Shi Qingxuan’s fault that her brother suddenly changed jobs and uprooted her entire life, put her in a fancy private school, and finally sent her to a prestigious college halfway across the country! What was a few years between besties with matching friendship necklaces? And how was it supposed to be her fault? Just how long did Ming-xiong intend to ignore her? Didn’t he understand the power they could have as two ten-out-of-ten pretty best friends?

Shi Qingxuan huffed as she laid out elaborate traps across her living room—potato chips with a selection of dips, a cheeseboard, chocolate fondue. Did Ming-xiong still like goldfish crackers or was that too juvenile? Just in case, she had several boxes. Pizza was on the way and there was enough alcohol in the house for the party to last two days straight! Which it would absolutely not, as she still needed her beauty sleep.

So much time and effort had gone into pulling off the perfect party that Shi Qingxuan managed to forget her original objective. Taylor Swift blasted from the speakers. She half-danced, half-mingled her way around, freshening conversations, making introductions, and having a wonderful time. She was on her way to rescue Xie Lian from the tall, standoffish art major wearing red letterman jacket who practically had him cornered when a shadow flitted at the periphery of her vision. She stopped so suddenly that the fun, fizzy drink in her cup almost sloshed over her hand.

Tiptoeing as if to sneak up on a stray animal, she peered into the kitchen. A tall, lanky figure leaned against the counter, completely alone. In one hand was a loaded plate and in the other, a rapidly shrinking slice of pizza. Despite the hood pulled low over his head, Shi Qingxuan’s heart lifted in immediate recognization.

“Ming-xiong!”

From beneath messy bangs in need of a trim, a sharp gaze fixed on her with glowering resentment. He Xuan set down the plate, unhurriedly dusted the crumbs off his hands, and moved to walk past her right out the door. Shi Qingxuan threw her arms around his neck in a tight hug, not minding that she was being dragged along with him.

“Ming-xiong, you came! I knew you would!”

“I was hungry.”

“I know. I was watching. You can eat a slice of pizza in three bites now. Just imagine how many other things we have to catch up on!”

He Xuan pried the hands from around his neck. “Forget it. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Why not?” Shi Qingxuan’s wrists started to hurt when he began to squeeze.

“You know why.”

“Why would I ask a question that I already know the answer to? That’s so dumb. I’m literally not dumb. I get B’s in all my classes. Ow ow ow—Ming Xiooooooooong, it hurts!”

He walked her backwards until she was pushed against the counter. Finally, Shi Qingxuan wrenched her hands away, shooting him a spiteful look. He planted a hand to each side of her instead, blocking her in. His dark, embittered gaze forced her attention away from her reddened wrists.

“You left.”

She stomped her foot. “I was ten!”

He scoffed, wordlessly rejecting her excuse.

“I wrote you letters all the time because you didn’t have a phone or even an email. What else was I supposed to do, hop on a train and come banging on your door because you never replied?”

He Xuan remained silent this time.

Shi Qingxuan did not understand it, but she sensed that she was gaining the upper hand somehow and immediately crossed her arms in a judgmental stance. “What, you never thought of that?”

“I didn’t receive any letters.”

“I wrote like ten billion! Or…at least twelve.”

His expression darkened. “How did you send them?”

“There’s no way I got the address wrong either. You were right next door—“

“I said how?”

“I gave them to my brother to take to the post office, duh.”

He Xuan laughed, though it was cold and fleeting, as if the joke were at his own expense. “I see. Oh, I understand now. So it was never your fault then. Just your perfect older brother’s.”

“Why are you so obsessed with whose fault it is? I threw you a party, Ming-xiong. I wanted you to come just so we could make up.” Shi Qingxuan grabbed his white-knuckled hand and held it between her own. “I’ve missed you.”

The music and the laughter of the party carried on around them, indistinct and out of place.

“Forget it,” He Xuan said. It was the second time he said that tonight, but this time he only sounded tired. “It’s been too long. It doesn’t matter, and…we have nothing in common anymore.”

“That’s not true,” Shi Qingxuan said earnestly. Tears filled her eyes without warning. No matter how tightly she held his hand, it seemed that He Xuan was trying to tell her goodbye once and for all. “We’re both very good-looking. And…we both go to planet literature class.”

“World literature,” He Xuan sighed, more tired than ever. “Not planet literature.”

“You’re still nitpicky!” Shi Qingxuan threw down his hand. “You haven’t changed at all, actually! Ming-xiong, don’t you dare—“

He leaned in close so suddenly that she was shocked into wide-eyed silence. She could have sworn He Xuan had been looking at her lips (did she have something in her teeth during this whole dramatic episode?!), but instead he turned his face against her hair and…breathed in.

“You smell different.”

Shi Qingxuan had not mistaken it. He Xuan had actually sniffed her. This was too weird to accuse him of in the moment, but she would definitely devote a diary page to it later.

“Ming-xiong,” she said delicately, as if she had not just been sniffed. “I use these things called ‘hair products’ now. I wear perfume. It’s been almost a decade, of course I smell different. I also look different, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“No, it’s not that.” He Xuan moved his head down. This time he cupped the other side of her neck, bringing her in close to inhale the crook of her shoulder. “Something’s different.”

The shiver than ran through Shi Qingxuan from head to toe made her knees feel like jelly. She was so close to passing out that she did not even bother to argue this time.

“Are you quite finished?” she squeaked.

He Xuan pulled away and had the audacity to look bored. He picked up the plate on the counter. “Guess so. See you Monday.”

He walked out before Shi Qingxuan could decipher his words. Before she even caught up to the idea that hey, he was leaving! How dare he! But then the meaning of those words finally kicked in: planet literature! He said they would see each other in the class where they did see each other! In other words…He Xuan was no longer ignoring her.

Shi Qingxuan sank to the kitchen floor and covered her face with her hands. Her cheeks felt like they were burning off. Why was it that her neck still tingled where He Xuan had pressed his face? Was she actually allergic to him? That’s it, if He Xuan gave her hives, they were no longer best friends!

For the first time in her life, Shi Qingxuan couldn’t wait for a Monday morning. She was going to touch He Xuan until she was absolutely positive she wasn’t allergic, and then—and then she might just have to kiss him to be extra sure.

[warriorgardener]

March 7th

Once upon a time, in a prosperous seaside town full of bright wonders, there was a clever and charming sorcerer. There also happened to be a less clever, but very handsome artist who had traveled from a faraway land and had since made his home in the town. How the two happened to cross paths and under what circumstances the sorcerer fell in love at first sight are stories lost to time, but the story of how the sorcerer was married was such a ruckus of an affair that it remains in the town’s history to this very day.

It began one fair summer day when the sorcerer marched into the market plaza and called for attention with a grand show of magic. Golden peonies made of pure light blazed forth from his hands, dancing in the air overhead. The cobblestones sung with music beneath the feet of all who gathered in front of him. Embroidered animals on jackets and skirts leapt to life, chasing themselves in circles on sleeve cuffs and hems. Even those who doubted the sorcerer’s true power could not bring themselves to call the spectacle a mere illusion.

Soon the sorcerer had gathered a large crowd. He cleared his throat gently and then spoke in a pleasing, well-mannered tone quite unlike the bold performance of his magic. “I have decided to marry.”

This alone sent a titter through the crowd. A tall, handsome man in white standing at the edge of the crowd now nudged himself a bit closer, murmuring a few apologies to those he passed by.

Jin Guangyao raised a small golden key pinched between his fingers. His dark eyes sparkled and a pair of adorable dimples added a boyish charm to his smile. Even with his silly sorcerer hat that added several inches to an otherwise unimpressive height, few could deny that he had the good looks to make a fetching bride. “This is the key to my home. Whoever takes it from my cat can simply let themself in and I will be theirs to wed.”

He cast that smile across the whole crowd, though it seemed to linger at one corner in particular. Then in a flash and a puff of misty smoke that smelled faintly of incense, he disappeared. In his place was a small black cat with a gold key around its neck. It delicately licked its paw and washed behind its ear. Then, giving the onlookers a rather disdainful look, it sprinted down the street. Several suitors yelled out in shock, realizing the trick at play, and pushed through the crowd to give chase.

The rest of the crowd slowly dispersed, filling itself with enough gossip to raise a hot air balloon into the sky. Soon only the man in white remained in the market square. He picked his easel and paints off the street corner and slowly walked the other way, a contemplative look on his face.

The next day, Lan Xichen was putting the finishing touches on an intricate painting of two seagulls fighting over a croissant when a little black cat rubbed against his leg with a purr. Black hair immediately covered his white pant leg, but Lan Xichen did not seem to mind. He leaned down and scratched under the cat’s chin where the gold key dangled.

“I didn’t know A-Yao had a cat…” Unless, perhaps, he didn’t? Transforming into a cat was surely an easy task for someone so talented.

It was hard to resist scooping up A-Yao and giving him a little kiss on the forehead, but Lan Xichen restrained himself and respectfully inquired after his day. “You must be tired from running around town. Would you like a piece of croissant?”

The cat meowed, but Lan Xichen was not sure if it was a yes or no. Then A-Yao started climbing his leg. “Ow! Oh! What sharp…good claws you have.”

Lan Xichen sat on the ground so that the little cat could curl onto his lap without further demonstration. He stroked its silky fur, warmed by the afternoon sun. After great hesitation, he said, “You must have great trust in me, to think of me as a resting place.” No response. He sighed. “Only a great brute would go so far as to chase you down and take the key. Are you sure you want to marry such a person?”

No matter how Lan Xichen tried to wrap his head around it, he couldn’t understand why someone as smart and wonderful as Jin Guangyao would resort to such a method to find a spouse. Furthermore, he had not even hinted at wanting marriage during their late night talks. All of this was truly too sudden.

“I’m taking you home,” he decided. “It’s not safe for you to run around like this alone. And then perhaps we can talk properly.”

Mrrp, said the cat, waking as he scooped it into his arms. Lan Xichen almost gave in and kissed his forehead, but resisted a second time. He kept away from the hustle and bustle of the main streets, but a few townsfolk still recognized the pair and made faces of surprise, dismay, and delight in turns. Lan Xichen did not notice much of it.

He voiced his growing list of concerns as he walked up the hill to a little cottage. “A-Yao, I don’t think you should get married. Not like this. Even if you are too smart and too clever to be caught by anyone you didn’t really like, I just feel terrible thinking about you getting married. It would be like losing a…a brother, maybe. Oh, I don’t know. You’re just so little. You’re too little to get married without me, A-Yao. I’ve always wanted to paint you and I never got up the nerve to ask, but if you get married I’ll be too embarrassed to ask you.”

He reached the yellow-painted door, knocked and waited. Belatedly he remembered the key. “Pardon me,” he said, untying the ribbon from the cat’s neck. He opened the door and gently set the cat down, not wanting to be so rude as to enter first in A-Yao’s home when he had not technically been invited.

The cat bolted as soon as it was set down. Lan Xichen was not sure what to do next when a kettle whistled from the kitchen. Fueled by the innate sense of urgency only a screaming kettle can provide, Lan Xichen rushed to fetch it off the stove. However, Jin Guangyao had beaten him to it. He poured the hot water into teapot. The table was set for two.

He smiled at Lan Xichen. “I hoped it would be you.”

The feeling that washed over Lan Xichen was like a flame of relief touched to a sparkler of joy, burning bright in his heart. He rushed to Jin Guangyao and held his face between his hands. At last he kissed that sweet little forehead.

Something rubbed against his leg. Lan Xichen looked down to see a familiar little black cat. “What? But I thought—“ He could not even voice what he thought, it was so terribly incorrect.

“What did you think, Er-ge?”

“Is that not you?”

Jin Guangyao could handle even the most stupid question with utmost poise. He took one of the hands still cradling his face and kissed Lan Xichen’s palm. “Tiger? No, he’s adopted. Though I can see where you might find the resemblance.”

“I’ve been talking to a cat,” he confessed pitifully. His ears burned with embarrassment.

“Oh? And what did you tell him?”

“Not to get married.”

“That’s a shame, because I dearly wished to be married to you, actually.”

Lan Xichen was gobsmacked. “Me?”

“You took the key from my cat, didn’t you? A deal is a deal. Have a seat, my dear, you look like you could use a cup of tea.”

He really could. Lan Xichen sank into the wooden chair and looked up at Jin Guangyao serenely pouring the tea. Although he seemed as composed and hospitable as ever, the flow of tea from the pot wavered slightly with the trembling of his hands.

“You really can’t turn into a cat?”

“I could if it would please you.” Despite his lighthearted tone, Lan Xichen could see the strain of practice behind his little smile.

“I am pleased!” he blurted. “A-Yao wants to marry me, how could I be anything less than pleased?”

Jin Guangyao finally took a seat, raising his cup of tea. He blew on it softly. The cat leapt onto his lap and began to knead, though the sharp claws did not seem to bother him. “I’m glad you feel that way, because there are still two other trials you must face.”

“I’m ready,” Lan Xichen said gravely.

“…I’m joking. Goodness, you really are inclined to believe anything.”

Lan Xichen shook his head, unable to take his eyes off the radiant, mysterious, utterly lovable person before him. “Not quite. Just when it’s you.”

Jin Guangyao’s eyelashes fluttered with surprise. He looked away from him quickly. His dimples gave away the smile he hid behind his teacup. It was his most unpracticed smile, the one Lan Xichen had tried to paint several times already—it had always been too fleeting to capture in his memory, never mind on canvas. Now he knew with a great soaring happiness that the chance would come to him again and again. That beautiful smile would become engraved in his mind’s eye at last. Soon he could show A-Yao what magic looked like to him.

[warriorgardener]

March 6th

Jiang Cheng strode along the docks of Lotus Pier, disregarding the frigid weather that clouded his breaths. His chapped hands were clenched stiffly at his sides. Sect disciples murmured their greetings and commoners hastily ducked their heads in respect as he passed by without sparing even a glance. The rich, spicy aroma of roasted lotus seeds wafted from a street vendor.

He stopped, struck by a wave of nostalgia. The old man serving customers in front of the food cart was surely not the one from his youth, but his hazy memory of running along the docks with his brother was generous enough to see a resemblance. He scoffed to no one in particular. There was no one left from that idyllic time. Not even a humble street vendor. All of them, every last one of them was dead and gone.

He imagined approaching the seller and buying a warm bag of roasted seeds to enjoy on the way back. Would they taste the same as he remembered? Had even that changed over time? The tips of his ears stung with the cold, reminding him to keep moving. Besides, he had too much work to do, no time to risk getting ensnared in the past.

As he swept past the cart, a voice called out to him, bright but not overly carefree. “Sect Leader Jiang!”

He turned and waited for his second-in-command to catch up to him, frowning deeply. Why was he chasing after him with such urgency? Did something come up? Was there bad news?

His usual straightforward and meticulous appearance was disheveled from running. A few strands of dark hair escaped from his high ponytail and his nose was pink from the cold.

He hugged a thick bundle to his chest. Upon catching up to Jiang Cheng, he unfurled it and swept it around his sect leader’s shoulders in one swift movement.

“You forgot your cloak,” he said breathlessly.

Jiang Cheng held rigidly still as the man worked at clasping the cloak with stiff, cold fingers. After a moment, he finally clasped it and stepped back to a more appropriate distance.

“Is that all?” Jiang Cheng asked warily.

“Unless you have other orders, I’ll be returning to oversee the inventory of night hunt equipment.”

“You’re dismissed then.” His words came automatically even as his thoughts remain preoccupied with the sudden warmth that had blanketed his shoulders. His winter cloak was thick and heavy, lined with fur, instantly shielding him from the icy wind that blew off the river.

“Yes, sir.”

His second-in-command left without further ado, but Jiang Cheng still had not recovered. He felt uneasy, as if something had been left unfinished. He still could not believe that the man had run halfway across Lotus Pier to simply deliver a cloak. How had he thought of such a thing? What made him do it? The matter was incomprehensible and even a little irritating in its opaqueness. Jiang Cheng was forced to admit that he had very little idea what kind of person his second-in-command was outside of his reliability and conscientiousness. Perhaps this incident was just an extension of that.

Jiang Cheng walked more leisurely now that he was not so bitterly cold, and moments later, he heard the same voice call out to him again.

“Sect Leader Jiang, one more thing!” His second-in-command pushed a small bag into his hands. “Something to warm your hands.”

Jiang Cheng looked down at the bag of roasted lotus seeds, more agitated than ever. He did not know what to make of this. “Do you really want to avoid doing inventory this badly?” A bribe was certainly beneath his second-in-command, but procrastination was not.

He laughed unabashedly and folded his arms over his chest to warm his hands. Jiang Cheng noted belatedly that he wore only the sect uniform himself. “This same time last year, you caught cold due to my negligence. Sect Leader doesn’t know how to rest, so it took a long time for you to recover…”

Jiang Cheng’s brow twitched at the subtle criticism, turning away with a humph. “I see that I’ve inconvenienced you in the past.”

“What you call inconvenience, I call job security, Sect Leader,” he replied mildly in response to the cutting sarcasm. He followed behind Jiang Cheng as he walked away this time.

Jiang Cheng held tightly onto the lotus seeds beneath his cloak. “And where in your oath of loyalty were such trivialities included?”

His second-in-command fell silent for so long that he could not help but sneak a look at him. However, he seemed unbothered by Jiang Cheng’s vitriol, enjoying the view of the slow-moving river.

“What now?” he prodded. “Any other excuses to avoid going back?”

His second-in-command smiled, not at all minding the insinuation that he was slacking off. For someone so dependable, he was rather lax when it came to defending himself. “Aren’t you going to try it?”

Jiang Cheng did not honor that question with a response. He ignored it for a time, then shoved his hand into the bag to try the seeds. They crunched in his mouth, bursting with flavorful spices that warmed him from the inside out. Unexpectedly, it was just as he remembered them. The taste had not changed a bit.

“Good?” his second-in-command prompted.

“Mm.”

“I want some too.” His second-in-command patiently held out his cupped hands. They were bright red from the cold.

“Where did your manners go to die? Just carry it then.” Jiang Cheng shoved the warm bag into his hands and stomped off.

That familiar footfall remained two steps behind him, as steady as they were on a night hunt or a diplomatic mission.

“Too spicy,” his second-in-command muttered under his breath.

“What kind of Jiang clan member are you,” he retorted.

The man only laughed. Jiang Cheng slowed his steps until the two walked side by side, one clutching the seeds between his cold hands, one fully cloaked.

[warriorgardener]

March 5th

Chu Wanning was in a dream. In that dream, his body burned with pain, not unlike how it did before he collapsed in bed amid the broken mess of his automatons. A fever wracked his body and the world was dark and confusing. Brief lapses of clarity slipped through his fingers like the smallest fish in his koi pond. His body was weightless, then weighted by an arm firmly wrapped around his shoulders, sitting him up in bed.

“Drink this, it’s sweet,” a voice said, familiar and yet unfamiliar in his dream. The tone of voice was caring, even coaxing, a tone no one dared to use with him.

In the darkness of his room, Chu Wanning could not even see a dim outline of the person holding him. But the rim of a cup touched his lips and he obeyed, sipping the warm brew. Instead of sweetness, a heavy, inescapable bitterness coated his entire mouth. He coughed and spat out the remainder. The effort only exhausted him further and his head lolled against the chest that cradled him from behind.

A cloth gently dabbed at his face. “This one is sweet for sure, go on and drink.”

In his bleariness and confusion, Chu Wanning repeated the same mistake. The ugly, blackly bitter taste almost made him retch. He groaned and resisted when the rim of the cup returned to his lips once more.

“Don’t be difficult. It’ll be sweet if you just finish this last sip. Come on.”

Chu Wanning kept his lips tightly shut. A sigh rose and fell from the chest he was nestled against.

“I’m being truthful this time. If you don’t sip, it’ll still taste bitter in your mouth.”

This was enough to convince Chu Wanning in his addled state. Unfortunately, he was betrayed for a third time. Angry now on top of his disappointment, he thrashed to get away from the one who tormented him.

“Shh, shh.” that voice said, holding down his arms. “Don’t move, you’ll open your wounds again. You finished the last drop, so I’ll reward you with something sweet now.”

Chu Wanning knew better than to fall for the same trick again, so he turned his head away. A firm hand gripped his chin and pulled him back. Warm lips pressed firmly against his own. Taking advantage of his shock, a tongue slipped into his mouth along with something cool and lightly sweet.

Finally encountering that promised sweetness, Chu Wanning eagerly chased the taste of it, sucking gently at the lips where a few of the sweet droplets remained. They pulled away suddenly and Chu Waning humphed in displeasure.

A warm, shaky breath ghosted next to his ear. “Wanning…” The voice was strained in a way he could not understand.

Slowly, the hands squeezing him relaxed and withdrew. A cup pressed to his lips once more, delivering the cool, sweet drink as light and airy as the spring breeze carrying the scent of haitang flowers.

When Chu Wanning awoke, it was with sudden clarity. His fever had broken. He abruptly sat up in bed, the wound on his back aching in protest. After recovering from a bout of dizziness, he looked around to find himself alone in his room. Nothing should have surprised him about that, although he somewhat recalled having dreamt of someone with him. Nothing more of the dream remained.

However, some part of the dream must have been true, for beside his bed was a cup of clear liquid. Chu Wanning reached over and hesitantly raised it to his lips. There was no bitter smell, nor sweet scent. He took a small sip.

It was water, of course. Nothing more, nothing less. However, because of the faint bitterness remaining in his mouth, it tasted sweeter by comparison.

He could not remember his dream, but fragments of his anger and disappointment stayed with him. Along with those familiar feelings was something else, the sense of someone looking after him even as he resisted and resented.

Chu Wanning smashed the cup, breathing so heavily that it tore at his newly scabbed wounds. He clutched at his heart. It ached as if it had descended into a deep well of loneliness accumulated over the years. Was he so terrible that only in his dreams would someone stay by his side? After all the bitterness of his long years, something as simple as water would be sweet to him if only someone dared to offer it. But even that, it seemed, was too much to ask.

Chu Wanning did not dare sleep after that. He rose, changed his robes, and went back to work.

[warriorgardener]

March 4th

Wei Wuxian knelt down on the sidewalk in front of the kindergarten. “A-Yuan…” The toddler was distracted by a grasshopper so Wei Wuxian turned his face back with his hands and gently squished his cheeks, which were not as chubby as he wished they were. “A-Yuan, pay attention. Do you want ice cream?”

“Yes!” He threw his hands in the air in wild approval, waving them as if about to take flight from excitement alone.

“Okay, listen up. I need you to go inside and say ‘Gege, are you single?’, can you remember that?”

“What’s a single?”

“That’s not important. Just remember to ask him and tell me what he says, okay? Then we’ll get ice cream.”

A-Yuan nodded brightly, but then his smile faded into a grave expression out of place on such a tiny face. “It’s okay. I don’t need it, Xian-ge.”

Wei Wuxian’s heart pinched. Wen Yuan had not experienced ice cream since his birthday last year and the happy memory was still engraved in the forefront of his thoughts. Using it to bribe him at a time like this was already a little cruel, but faced with such altruism, Wei Wuxian’s guilt multiplied. He swore to himself that he really would bring home ice cream no matter what.

“Don’t be silly! You need ice cream to grow big and tall like me! I’m going to go get it right now. Go on, don’t be late.”

A-Yuan’s grin returned in full force. He ran towards the school doors. With his oversized backpack, he looked like a turtle waddling at full speed to win some kind of race. Wei Wuxian huffed a little laugh.

A tall, imposing man wearing a light blue apron appeared at the doorway to help him take off his backpack and coat. Although his face was as unyielding and stern as always, he let A-Yuan hug his legs and even patted his head once before guiding him inside. Their eyes met briefly, and the warm feeling in Wei Wuxian’s chest fluttered.

If only that stuffy Lan Wangji treated him with the same solitary ounce of sweetness he seemed to reserve for his students! With how willfully childish he acted around Lan Wangji, he thought some of that faint nurturing instinct would be sure to apply to him as well, but it only seemed to irritate him. Ah well, teasing Lan Wangji was fun. That’s why he wanted A-Yuan to ask such a thing, right? That was the only reason.

***

That ice cream almost got Wei Wuxian killed. It was one of the few things that was impossible to go dumpster diving for, so he went into a grocery store out of the way from their neighborhood, stuffed two ice cream bars into his jacket (damn near freezing his nipples off) and walked out. After that, he was in the clear and relaxed a bit, sticking to the alleys as he leisurely headed back towards the kindergarten to pick up his kiddo. It wasn’t easy to keep Wen Yuan in school, but he got fed well there and it kept him out of his hair long enough for Wei Wuxian to scrape together a living. Besides, Wen Yuan was already top of his class! He was the first one to learn his alphabet! He could probably graduate high school no problem, even go to college on a scholarship, and then maybe Wei Wuxian would be able to tell himself that he hadn’t failed in raising him.

Lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t seen the men smoking in the alley, never mind recognized them as “old friends” from his brief stint as a cardsharper. Needless to say, they weren’t happy to see him. Nor were they inclined to use their words so much as their fists. It took several blows for Wei Wuxian to finally recover his wits, fight back and make his escape. Just to be safe, he took an even more roundabout way to the kindergarten.

His throat burned with every step. His feet dragged. He stopped once to heave into someone’s unfortunate hedge, though there was not much in his stomach to come up. Once A-Yuan’s school came into view, he started running. No cars were parked by the entrance. The playground was empty. Wei Wuxian realized he was very, very late. His heart plummeted into his stomach. What if someone reported him for—for—shitty parenting, or something? What if A-Yuan was taken away from him? What if A-Yuan went home by himself? Would they allow something like that? Fuck the school system! How could they let a little boy walk all the way home like a sad little turtle?

His footsteps echoed through the empty hall, the walls covered with scribbled drawings and macaroni art. He knew exactly where Wen Yuan’s classroom was and slowed down as he neared it. A faint conversation came through the cracked door. Wei Wuxian hurriedly tried to put himself together. Without a mirror, it was hard to tell if he was presentable or not, but he straightened out his clothes and combed his hands through his hair.

“What’s a single?”

“It means there’s only one.”

“Are you a single teacher?”

“No,” said the voice patiently. “There are other teachers.”

“Oh…my mama is a single.”

“Wei Ying is not a mother…for several reasons.”

“He’s mine though.”

Wei Wuxian stopped frantically wiping the blood from his scraped knee and burst into the room before the conversation could get any worse. “A-Yuan! I’m late, I’m sorry—Lan Zhan, I’m really sorry.”

The two of them were sitting at a children’s table, Wen Yuan on an appropriately small chair and Lan Wangji on a less appropriately small chair. They seemed to be having some kind of tea party. The plastic scoops of ice cream on the table made Wei Wuxian sick all over again. He patted down his jacket. The ice cream bars in his pockets were squished and melted. Even with that small task, he had failed.

Wen Yuan bolted out of his chair so fast that it fell over.

“Don’t run,” Lan Wangji said mildly, but of course the boy didn’t listen.

He ran straight to Wei Wuxian and hugged his leg. “Xian-ge, you got hurt!”

Wei Wuxian laughed. “I tripped! Like Lan Zhan said, you shouldn’t run inside. I fell right on my face, hahahaha!” He swallowed and finally summoned the courage to look at Lan Wangji, hoping he wasn’t angry enough to call the cops.

Lan Wangji carried a dark expression he had never seen before, something adjacent to irritation but not quite. In the same patient, unerring tone, he ignored Wei Wuxian to speak to Wen Yuan, who looked like he did not know whether to laugh or cry. “Go wash your hands and we will put some bandaids on your mama.”

How could Lan Wangji say such a thing with a straight face?! Wei Wuxian was stunned speechless as A-Yuan happily ran out of the room to do as he was told. Lan Wangji immediately advanced on him.

“I can explain,” Wei Wuxian said. Without realizing it, he had backed himself against the wall. “I mean—I was telling the truth about tripping! Lan Zhan, cut me a break just this once. I’ll never be late again.”

Lan Wangji’s icy, unperturbed gaze lowered to Wei Wuxian’s lips. He anxiously rubbed them with the back of his hand. A small streak of blood came away. Dammit.

“Listen, it’s complicated, but—“ He swore under his breath. Why did he even try? No one could understand, certainly not someone so unerringly perfect as Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji held his chin, turning his face to each side, inspecting the red marks and scrapes in judgmental silence. Wei Wuxian was caught off guard by his close proximity, mesmerized by the length of his dark lashes and the dark eyes that looked him over inch by inch.

His gaze lifted, piercing Wei Wuxian through the heart. “Who did this to you?”

His low voice sent a shiver through Wei Wuxian, who immediately had to fight off gay thoughts. Thankfully, he was saved from having to respond, as A-Yuan bolted back into the room at that moment.

“I’m ready to be a doctor!”

The two of them separated quickly, almost guiltily. But as Wei Wuxian took a place at the tiny table in an equally tiny chair, letting Lan Wangji clean his scrapes with antiseptic and letting Wen Yuan clumsily apply bandaids anywhere he pleased, he couldn’t stop thinking about those words, that voice, the anger in his eyes that was not, as he was beginning to realize, directed at him this time.

Maybe Lan Wangji…Wei Wuxian shook his head at himself. No, certainly not. But just in case…

“Hey, Lan Zhan, are you single?”

[warriorgardener]

March 3rd

Alcohol is prohibited. This was one of the first rules to be carved into the Wall of Discipline generations ago. Alcohol led to the breaking of other rules: do not speak loudly, do not run, do not be promiscuous, do not speak frivolous words, do not laugh for no reason, do not stand incorrectly, do not smile foolishly, do not steal, do not sit improperly…

Alcohol led many a disciple down the wrong path, therefore it was prohibited. This was as good a rule as all the others on the Wall of Discipline and Lan Wangji had enforced it passionately for many years. By virtue of his soft and silent footsteps alone, he had often happened upon both juniors and elders in the act of breaking this particular rule.

Lan Xichen had once smiled at him, bemused and resigned, and told him that it was not alcohol itself that was prohibited, but rather drunkenness. If alcohol could not cause one to become drunk, it would not be prohibited. Thus he reasoned with Lan Wangji that while he had broken the word of the rule by drinking alcohol at a banquet, he had not broken the spirit of the rule, thanks to his cultivation technique that transformed the liquor into a harmless drink.

Lan Wangji had followed the rules of respecting elders and not arguing with family members, by saying no more on the subject. However, he secretly disagreed. Despite seeing the firsthand perils and vices of drunkenness, he stubbornly persisted in thinking that while alcohol may have been prohibited, a rule against drunkenness itself was not inscribed upon the wall.

Lan Wangji needed this to be true, because he was certain that it was Wei Wuxian who made him drunk. It was Wei Wuxian who made him uncontrollably heated inside. It was Wei Wuxian who muddled his thoughts and made him act with impropriety. He was certain that alcohol could have no effect on him the way Wei Wuxian did, causing him to become impulsive and willful, blind to the consequences of his unrestrained desires. He needed this to be true, because if there was truly a rule against becoming drunk on Wei Wuxian, he had finally crossed the line.

Wei Wuxian was pressed under his body, blindfolded and squirming against the grip that pinned him against the tree. Lan Wangji pushed his tongue into his mouth, chasing the taste of him deeper and deeper until a small gasp—neither of them knew how to breathe at a time like this—shuddered between their lips and spiraled through him. His body was aflame with an intoxication that only grew more and more. Fear, anger, resentment, grief, desire, longing, confusion, regret, pride, contentment: all of it surged through him at once, pouring into that single, desperate kiss. Lan Wangji nipped his lip, only to lap at the wound a moment later. His mind buzzed, hardly recognizing the metallic taste of blood. His chest tingled as if growing numb. Wei Wuxian’s body faintly trembled beneath him, no longer resisting.

Drunken to his heart’s content, a warm, sated feeling slowly spread through Lan Wangji’s veins. His heart continued to throb almost painfully, wanting to be even closer to Wei Wuxian, an impossible, intoxicated wish. His kisses slowed and wandered to Wei Wuxian’s jaw, his cheek, his ear, his eye, his temple, his hair. Even all of him would not be enough for Lan Wangji to stop. This was the temptation and danger of drunkenness, he knew. And yet even knowing could not make him pull away.

His mother had taught him about kissing. She was a gently carefree person who wore a faded sadness like mourning that had grayed, something he was too young to understand. The first time she ever scolded him, it shocked him and made his stomach unwell, despite its pale comparison to the way his uncle constantly reprimanded him. She had gathered him into her arms and pressed little kisses all over his face, murmuring with regret, “Are you cross with me? Mama was just teasing. Don’t fuss. You’re a good boy.” Lan Wangji only frowned and wriggled free as soon as he could, not knowing how his righteous indignation looked at that young age, a pout giving his true feelings away.

Lan Wangji broke the kiss suddenly. Beneath him, what could be seen of Wei Wuxian’s face was completely flushed. His red, parted lips panted for breath. Lan Wangji’s throat was too constricted to ask him the same question. Are you cross with me?

He fled into the forest before Wei Wuxian could speak. His eyes burned and his vision blurred, spinning into a dark mire of despair and aching want. His sword withdrew from its sheath. He lashed out, splintering a tree in two. Whether alcohol or drunkenness, it was all prohibited in the end. He knew why such rules were worthy of being carved into the Wall.

This taste would not be so easily forgotten.

[warriorgardener]

March 2nd

Wei Wuxian’s heart pounded as he neared his husband’s office. He suppressed three quarters of a shit-eating grin and coyly peeked his head through the open doorway.

Lan Wangji’s chair faced him, but he kept his headphones on and his gaze fixed on the screen. His stoic, handsome features were lit by the screen and he wore those silly blue-light glasses that made him look like a strict boarding school teacher but in the sexiest way possible. It was impossible to say whether he had not noticed Wei Wuxian or was simply ignoring him. Either way, Wei Wuxian was not deterred.

Using his ninja prowess, Wei Wuxian half-crawled, half-slithered from the doorway to underneath his desk. He popped up between Lan Wangji’s legs. “Surp--!”

A hand clamped over his mouth. Above him, Lan Wangji responded evenly, “I agree with Xichen. It’s too early to assume. We should wait until the end of the fiscal year.”

Damn Zoom meetings. He should have known his plans would be foiled…unless? Wei Wuxian smiled behind his hand and began kissing his palm. At the warm touch of his tongue, Lan Wangji gripped his face harder. Nice. Wei Wuxian’s unrestricted hands slid up and down his husband’s slacks, thumbs massaging gently over his inner thighs. Lan Wangji’s pinched frown twitched as Wei Wuxian dared to let out a soft, muffled whine.

“I’m having connection problems. Excuse me.” Lan Wangji tore off the headphones.

Wei Wuxian barely had time to register the bald-faced lie that just left his husband’s pristine mouth when he was yanked up by the collar and kissed. “Kiss” might have been too generous of a word, as it entailed more teeth than tongue. Not only had Lan Wangji been teased during his meeting, but his work had been derailed completely. Wei Wuxian’s reckoning had come in full force.

“Lan Zhan,” he gasped. “If you keep going—“ He had to pause as Lan Wangji very much kept going. “There won’t be anything left of my poor lips!”

“Ridiculous,” he murmured into his neck. A thrill coursed through Wei Wuxian as his teeth pulled at his skin, slow and teasing.

Wei Wuxian had only one opportunity to escape. “Look at me!” he whined.

Lan Wangji drew back. His gaze passed over his husband’s flushed face and reddened lips down to the shirt collar wrinkled in his unrelenting grip, then froze upon taking in the remainder of his outfit.

“What is this…”

“Lan Zhan, doesn’t it remind you of something?” Wei Wuxian played with the light blue tie of the school uniform. He had never worn a tie when he was a student and was constantly reprimanded for it, half of the time by Lan Wangji himself, whose mugshot-esque photo had been immortalized forever in the dress code section of the student handbook. In fact, Wei Wuxian’s school uniform was long gone, tossed in the trash as soon as he dropped out. But Lan Wangji had kept his own for some unknowable reason, and Wei Wuxian had discovered it in their closet only moments ago.

Lan Wangji had always been slightly bigger than him, and his formidability made him seem even taller and stronger in his memory. So it was with genuine surprise that Wei Wuxian discovered Lan Wangji’s uniform to be too small for him. The shirt barely buttoned, fitted tightly around his chest and left unbuttoned at the collarbone to fit over his shoulders. The pants stretched tightly over his thighs and had to be left unzipped. Altogether, the sight was far more indecent than he had ever worn his own uniform.

“I can’t believe you used to be so small,” Wei Wuxian said coyly. “Didn’t you want me in your pants even back then? Your lucky day is finally here!"

Although Lan Wangji remained expressionless, Wei Wuxian could feel the heat from his gaze rake over him slowly, all but undressing him with his eyes. He nuzzled Lan Wangji's lap, feeling exceptionally tempting in his current position. "Lan Er-gege, I was too busy being an idiot for us to have a high school romance. Don't you think we should make up for it the best we can?"

"Get on the desk."

Wei Wuxian grinned devilishly. "Hey, where did your manners go! Is that any way to ask--"

Of course, his husband did not waste time with his foolishness but simply hoisted him onto the desk and spread his legs, gripping his hands on Wei Wuxian's thighs.

Wei Wuxian's breaths had already turned shallow, his body on edge with anticipation. He could only imagine the filthy things his husband wanted to do with him right now--all his years of horny Lan fantasizing finally coming to good use!

"You're too smug." Lan Wangji covered Wei Wuxian’s eyes with a hand and moved closer, close enough for him to feel the warmth of his breath.

He bit back a delighted laugh. This was already going kinkier than he expected!

Lan Wangji closed the small gap that remained between them. Their lips met softly and chastely. Wei Wuxian did not move, expecting Lan Wangji to have his way with him any moment, but their lips parted just as gently and the hand covering his eyes followed in suit.

"What kind of kiss was that!" Wei Wuxian protested. In the back of his mind, he was beginning to realize that he would always find something to whine about, whether Lan Wangji was too rough or too gentle. Maybe he just liked whining...but kinks aside, this right now was a real grievance!

"Our first," Lan Wangji answered softly. His ears were pink.

Wei Wuxian stared at him, then burst into loud guffaws until he was gasping for air, slapping his knee. "Are you kidding me? The first time you kissed me, you practically tore my clothes off! I had to make up a whole story just so Yanli would sew the buttons back onto my shirt!"

Lan Wangji’s face pinched ever so slightly into a pout, but he had no rebuttal.

Wei Wuxian quickly soothed him, even taking the opportunity to squish his cheeks. "Don't be mad, Lan Zhan. I like our love story just the way it is, from our first kiss to this very moment. You shouldn't wish for anything different either, okay?" He sighed. "Except..."

"Except what?"

"We really should have banged in the library while we had the chance."

"You were incapable of being quiet in the library under normal circumstances."

Wei Wuxian snickered at the thought. "The uniform is still a turn-on for you though, right? Tell me I'm right."

"You're right." Lan Wangji cut off his next bout of smugness with another kiss, slow but now full of growing desire. His hand slipped around Wei Wuxian's backside to slot their hips together, pulling Wei Wuxian into the teenage dream he wanted so badly. Finally!

…

Blooper Reel:

Lan Xichen’s hesitant voice came faintly from the discarded headphones. “Wangji, could you mute yourself until your connectivity problems are resolved?”

[warriorgardener]

March 1st

“Stop running.” Cherry’s voice rose as the kids ignored his earlier warnings, continuing to chase each other around the pool with twisted wet towels as their weapons of choice, smacking each other and screaming with laughter. “I mean it, someone is going to slip and bust their head open.”

Joe lounged in a deck chair as he leisurely watched the spectacle. He was about to call out to Cherry to give it up and let them learn the hard way when Langa dodged around Cherry, Reki in hot pursuit. Cherry stepped out of the way as Reki barreled past him with a whoop. His pinched frown of disapproval and exasperation morphed into wide-eyed shock as he fell victim to his own warning. His sandals slipped on the wet poolside and he fell backwards with a huge splash.

Everyone stopped and gaped. Even Joe was too shocked to laugh. Cherry spluttered to the surface before anyone could think to help him. Only then did Joe realize he had been holding his breath. He jumped up and ran to the pool, kneeling and extending his hand. “Ha! I told you to leave them alone. Grab on!”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he snapped. Cherry had managed to lose his glasses. He shook water off of his face and rubbed his eyes as he made his way to the wall of the pool, muttering all the while.

Reki and Langa, who had hesitantly approached to help, retreated as soon as Joe stepped in. Langa whispered, Reki snickered, and they both ran back inside knowing full well that the lecture they would get later would make up for any fooling around they did now.

“Alright, alright,” Joe said in a soothing tone, still very much in the mood to tease. “You sure showed them. They’ll think twice before running at the pool again—“

Cherry grabbed his hand and yanked him in. Joe yelped, swallowing a mouthful of water. He thrashed back to the surface a moment later and swiped back the wet hair from his face. “Why you little—“

A smug little smile remained on Cherry’s face as he bobbed backwards out of reach. “Little what?” he asked mildly.

Joe clenched his teeth and forced a smile back at him. “Little darling,” he said, dripping with as much sarcasm as water.

Cherry huffed and stayed clear of Joe as he plunged under the water again. Several moments later, he resurfaced and placed Cherry’s missing glasses at the edge of the pool. The blind fool didn’t even notice. He was too busy trying to heave himself out of the pool with a degree of dignity. He had more than enough strength for it, but was impeded by the sopping wet yukata that clung to his legs.

For the second time that day, Joe forgot to breathe. The dark blue silk had come loose enough to hang off one shoulder, exposing a wide section of Cherry’s pale but well-defined chest. The wet robe hugged his slender waist and the curve of his backside. Joe was struck as if with lightning by the realization that his ever prim-and-proper, exquisitely cultured Cherry clearly adhered to the tradition of wearing no additional undergarments under the yukata. Even under the sun that burned Joe’s shoulders and the back of his neck, a chill ran through him. He couldn’t stand to watch any longer.

“Stop. Just stop.” He waded over and grabbed Cherry’s waist to lift him out of the water. “You’re killing me. Just get out.” The lump in his throat made it difficult to even speak.

Cherry shot an aggrieved look over his shoulder. Without the edge of maturity that came with looking over his glasses in glaring disapproval, his intimidation was cut in half and he could even be called a little cute. Especially with the way Joe’s hands damn near encircled his waist. Their positions sent his mind reeling in directions that made him unable to look Cherry in the eye. He practically threw him out of the pool before climbing out himself. His heart pounded in his chest, his arms felt boneless and his traitorous hands even tingled where he had held him.

Cherry had long since adjusted his yukata to cover himself again, though it still hung open loosely at the chest. Joe glanced away quickly but it was too late to erase the image of a hard, pink nipple from his mind. Cherry squeezed the water out of his hair and attempted to do the same to his sleeves, complaining about the damaging effects of chlorine on silk.

"Kaoru," he interrupted.

"What?" Cherry's tone was borderline pissed in that sweet spot between being tired of his teasing and genuinely angry.

He threw a towel at Cherry, silently begging him to turn into a terrycloth burrito that would not torment him nearly so much. Cherry humphed but wrapped it around himself, to his instant relief.

"I'm going inside," Cherry said tersely. He hadn't gone more than a few steps before he tripped on a pool noodle and nearly fell face first. Now, Joe knew, as he knew Cherry like clockwork, he was properly pissed.

He couldn't help himself from dryly asking, "Need your glasses?"

"No!" Cherry’s face was dusted with pink, partly from a brief foray into the sunlight and partly with good old-fashioned humiliation. "I'd rather die than see you with 20/20 vision."

Joe actually laughed. His insults were absurd, yet this one pricked at his heart for some reason. His gaze lingered on Cherry as he stormed indoors (albeit more carefully). Then he picked up the glasses and carefully dried them with the shirt he had discarded by the deck chair.

“Blind,” he muttered. He held the glasses up to ensure the lenses weren’t smudged. “You couldn’t be more blind.”

[warriorgardener]

Xiyao before they start dating goes skiing… what happens

Meng Yao was invited. He demurred excessively, with genuine regret, saying that as much as he loved spending time with Er-ge, he did not have nearly the same number of ski lessons growing up that Lan boys did (his number was zero).

“I’m happy to teach you. A-Yao is such a fast learner, I know you’ll pick it up in no time.”

Since when was Lan Xichen capable of such coaxing, borderline manipulation? Meng Yao was taken aback but quickly regrouped. “Studies have found that couples are 17% more likely to breakup when one tries to teach the other to ski. This is due to the high skill threshold, likelihood of injury, and wide experience gap between the two.”

Lan Xichen smiled in that warm, confused way Meng Yao was so weak to. “But A-Yao, we’re not dating?”

The damage this did rendered Meng Yao incapable of further resistance. He didn’t even print out the article. What he didn’t expect was for Lan Xichen to get cold feet before they even arrived to the ski resort.

“We’ve always gotten along so well,” he murmured as he drove, a faint flicker of worry in his eyes.

“One out of 43 first time skiers break a bone. There are over 100 skiing related deaths every year.”

He got Lan Xichen so worked up that as they prepared to hit the slopes, he suddenly turned and caught Meng Yao’s hands. “A-Yao, you came all this way with me. I’d feel just awful if…if…” So many possibilities had wormed into his mind that Lan Xichen couldn’t even decide on the worst one.

Meng Yao patted his cheek with one gloved hand. “Do you know what sounds like fun? Sitting in the lodge with a warm drink and watching you go down your little hill while I catch up on some light reading.”

Lan Xichen was relieved. “Really? You’d like that?”

Meng Yao would like it if he said those exact words in a softer, breathier tone next to his ear, but he blinked that fantasy from his dazed thoughts and smiled reassuringly. “Of course I would. Go have fun with your brother. I’ll see you soon.”

Lan Xichen went down the run two times before the thought of Meng Yao alone in the lodge was so distracting that he crashed. He hobbled back to the lodge with a twisted ankle and a sheepish smile, where he and Meng Yao sat too close together on a couch until Lan Wangji was ready to go home.

[warriorgardener]

Can you tell me a sweet moment teen xiyao had at a sleepover

If it hadn’t been Nie Huaisang’s sleepover, Meng Yao world have never received such an invitation. Although Nie Huaisang had many friends, including those his own age, he was a total pushover when it came to smoothing over the high emotions and bickering that came with sleepovers, and Nie Mingue hated company so he was conspicuously absent when it came time to chaperone his little brother. Therefore he knew why an invitation had been thrown his way, although he did not know whose idea it had been. Lan Xichen received a similarly surprising invitation alongside one for Lan Wangji, and accepted without a second thought—after all, it was his little brother’s first sleepover. What if he got homesick?

He needn’t have worried. As soon as they arrived, Lan Wangji attached himself to a confused but wildly entertained Wei Wuxian and followed him around like a puppy, not caring for his brother’s thoughtful presence at all. Thankfully, he wasn’t bored or left out after all, because A-Yao was there! They spent the whole day together, following Nie Huaisang’s whims and making sure Nie Mingue’s house didn’t burn down while he played Call of Duty upstairs, making only rare appearances.

At nine o’clock, however, Lan Wangji silently and resolutely went to bed on the living room floor. Even when Wei Wuxian used his rigid form as a backrest to start a game of Cards Against Humanity, he was immoveable. Meng Yao gently but insistently moved the game downstairs and came up to find both brothers now asleep on the floor, with the wide coffee table between them. He sighed and set up his sleeping bag next to Lan Xichen, who hadn’t even said goodnight, and turned towards him. Even in the near darkness, his handsome face was too much of a temptation. Meng Yao poked it.

Without opening his eyes, Lan Xichen whispered, “I can’t sleep.” Meng Yao imperceptibly almost keeled over with shock, but only politely asked why he could not sleep. Out of all the possible answers, he never expected Lan Xichen to say softly, “I’m a little homesick.”

Meng Yao reached out his hand between them to comfort him. But his hand had no experience comforting, and fell short in a moment of hesitation. Lan Xichen did not hesitate to take it himself, interlacing their fingers and squeezing as if to make sure of his presence.

“I can end this sleepover right now,” Meng Yao reassured quietly and sweetly. “All that has to happen is for Nie Mingue to find out about the underage drinking going on downstairs and we’ll all be home within half an hour.”

Lan Xichen exhaled a quiet laugh. “It’s okay just like this. I might not be able to sleep, but we can have a late night talk.”

Nine o’clock was hardly late at night, but they truly did whisper into the AM hours until at last, not knowing who did so first, they fell asleep.

[warriorgardener]

What does JGY do for lan xichen this valentines day?

He finally gives in to one of Lan Xichen’s deepest desires…they spend the whole afternoon at the kitchen table taking personality tests together and discussing the results in depth, and most importantly, determining their supposed compatibility. Lan Xichen is delighted that their results are compatible every single time! Truly a sigh that they were soulmates in every way!

Little did he know the reason behind Meng Yao’s original reluctance. After deciding that he would finally humor his husband, he spent hours answering the quizzes as Lan Xichen would, then hours determining which answers would give him compatible results. It was a huge headache the whole time, but after seeing Lan Xichen’s oblivious delight as he printed out every single page of results…Meng Yao decided it was worth the effort.

[warriorgardener]

Does jgy like getting his face fucked?

Oh yes…oh yes. You see, Lan Xichen is naturally inclined to gentle, sappy lovemaking (think the polar opposite of Wangxian), which Meng Yao has yet to fully come to terms with. Always one to ruin a perfectly good thing, Meng Yao finds Lan Xichen’s romantic ways almost a little unnerving in the bedroom. To be loved and adored is a little different from being desired and lusted after—and Meng Yao has stubbornly decided that he wants to be objectified, dammit. He wants Lan Xichen to lose himself to passion and manhandle him and show him just how much he wants Meng Yao in the most obscene way possible. One day, he gets his wish. And in return, Lan Xichen experiences an utterly undone (wanton, if you will) A-Yao he had never seen before, a side of him he never knew existed! He couldn’t help but think about it even afterwards and want to see it again…

[warriorgardener]

What would happen if jgy and lxc got lost hiking and they both secretly got genuinely scared?

After realizing with sudden dread that they were lost, their first reaction is to protect the other without alarming them. It is a total breakdown of communication with the best intentions at heart.

Lan Xichen remains steadfastly cheerful. He knows that someone in their family will come rescue them if they’re not back on time. He won’t let A-Yao get cold or scared. It’ll be like surprise camping! …A-Yao hated camping, unfortunately. Lan Xichen suggests that they climb a little higher to get a good view of the sunset (and the way back hopefully).

Meng Yao smiles at him and says that he feels a little overheated, and that it’d be nice to wash his face in the stream they passed awhile back instead. At the very least, they could follow the water back the way they came…

So it was that the sun set without a single word between them regarding the fact that they were still very much lost. Once dusk settled over them, fear truly set in. They held tightly onto each other’s hand, groping blindly through the brush until the last light faded away.

Neither wanted to be the first to admit that they were very, very lost.

“I think we should sit down for awhile,” says Lan Xichen. They had ignored bigger problems in their relationship with greater success, so why stop now?

“It’s too late to head back now…” Meng Yao says tentatively. Not because they were lost. Just because it was dark.

“We’ll go home in the morning,” Lan Xichen reassures him. As if spending the night in the woods is a normal thing to do.

They both hold each other in the highest esteem, but manage to convince themselves that the other is not aware that they are lost (very lost).

Lan Xichen holds Meng Yao in his arms, sleeping peacefully against a tree on a perfect Lan schedule while Meng Yao lays awake all night. In the morning, Lan Wangji I unexpectedly shows up to fetch them.

“How did you find us?” Meng Yao asks blearily.

Lan Wangji looks at him as if he blinks manually. “The chip.”

“The WHAT?”

Meng Yao pesters him down the mountain but refuses to elaborate.

[warriorgardener]

what would jgy be like with a sling

He would outwardly brush it off as no big deal and deny any help, looking as impeccably put together as always, but then at home he’d be a frazzled mess. With his arm in a sling, he can’t write or type or have good table manners or do household chores. There are crumbs on the floor and unopened mail on the counter and he hasn’t flossed his teeth. Er-ge has tried everything from attempting to help to giving him space and nothing seems to make his A-Yao more at ease.

So he resorts to kidnapping. He ignores all of Jin Guangyao’s protests and resistance, bundling him up and throwing their bags in the car and then he drives. He takes A-Yao to his family’s beach house, though it is the middle of winter. A-Yao has gotten frustrated with Er-ge’s stubborn sense of mystery and is giving him the silent treatment as Lan Xichen gets them settled in.

“There’s no work for you to do here. It doesn’t even matter if the floors get dirty.” He kisses Meng Yao’s head and hands him the paperback he had left on his nightstand at home.

“I’m not an invalid, it’s just a sling and an inconvenience.”

“You were one inconvenience away from throwing a fit.”

“So you decided that manhandling me was the better alternative.”

“You gave me permission as long as I didn’t abuse my privileges. Do you feel abused or do you feel cared for?”

Meng Yao grumbles and sinks into his Er-ge mandated blanket burrito like a cat who was swaddled to go to the vet.

The two of them had a peaceful, unexpected vacation while Meng Yao came to terms with his inconvenience and learned to let Lan Xichen help him.

[warriorgardener]

What are xiyao like at the airport?

Meng Yao has to be there five hours early and even then he still can’t relax. Airports are nothing but dens of chaos and germs. Even with his lavender scented neck pillow, noise cancelling headphones, and iced coffee in hand, a permanent frown pinches his face. He just knows a flight is going to be delayed or cancelled, or his baggage is going to be lost even though he never checks his bags for that reason, somehow it’s just going to disappear from the overhead storage, and while they’re at it the plane might as well crash. By the time they’re on the plane, he’s wishing that he had procured Valium through dubious means. Though he would never admit it, each bump of turbulence makes him feel like he’s going to die.

Lan Xichen had never heard of getting to the airport early before traveling with Meng Yao, but he never seemed to have problems getting where he was going. He travels with an oblivious lack of fear and doesn’t quite understand why A-Yao dreads flying so much, but intuitively knows the perfect balance of soothing him with attention and simply being a steady presence. He shows Meng Yao the funny dog videos on his little apps, wanders the gift shops in search of novelty socks for his collection, and happily takes up conversation with anyone nearby until he’s inevitably invited to a wedding. Through the whole plane ride, he keeps a hand casually on A-Yao’s leg, which tends to bounce impatiently (anxiously). Then he proceeds to nap the entire way. It is indeed the only time Meng Yao has seen him nap, and he’s appalled at Lan Xichen’s Choice of environment.

[warriorgardener]

Has meng yao ever procrastinated?

When Meng Yao first met Lan Xichen in their youth, he knew he would have to face his feelings eventually. There was no not loving Lan Xichen, but surely there would be a better time to do something about it. After this war, Meng Yao thought. After I rise to the top of the Jin clan, Meng Yao thought. After I get rid of Nie Mingjue’s corpse for good, Meng Yao thought. When he had accomplished every other thing, when all in his world was finally perfect and good and under control, then he could love Lan Xichen freely. When there was nothing left that required him to taint his hands, then he would finally let himself love Lan Xichen the way he knew Lan Xichen loved him.

When the sword ran through him, he realized that it did not matter. The time would never have come for him in this lifetime. But if there was a next…

Meng Yao had no idea what came over him on the first day of the semester. He walked right up to the boy sitting in the front row of his Ethics 101 class, nothing short of entranced by his looks and the unusual way he carried himself and something he could not put his finger on. He introduced himself succinctly and to the point—he had never once gotten to the point in his life—saying, “Hello, my name is Jin Guangyao, but I’ll let you call me A-Yao. If you partner with me in group projects you’ll definitely get an A. Here is my class schedule for the semester and my phone number. With this information, you can either date me or try to avoid me.”

Lan Xichen blinked at him with a polite and mildly confused smile, as if this did not happen to him very often. He accepted the extended piece of paper automatically. “Oh? I was planning to get an A in this class either way, but thank you. You’re welcome to the seat next to me if you like.” He dated the upper right corner of his notebook page in ink. Meng Yao noticed everything he did as if it meant something and he felt insane about it.

He sat down. His hands were shaking too much to write, so he pulled out his laptop instead. That was the first time he met Lan Xichen, and the from the moment he laid eyes on him, he felt with an underlying thread of anxiety that he could not wait another second.