just realised i forgot the ship WangXian kiss print #18
slides in five months later hi hello I have answered the prompt even tho it took me like half a year Iām so sorry
it also wasnāt supposed to be this long but it sorta ran away from me and wherever your fic goes you gotta follow tbh lol. thank you so much for prompting! ā„ means so much to me.
AO3 link hereĀ
(tumblr kinda messed up the format so it might be easier to read on AO3 honestly)
ā
the borders of you (untouched);WangXian; 5,900+ words;
Wei Ying creates a talisman thatās supposed to keep all the fierce corpses and beasts away. Problem is, it keeps away everyone, living people included. And worst of all? Itās not going away. (prompt 18:kisses where one person is sitting in the otherās lap)
ā
Itās not that Wei Ying has messed up.
The ward works,works well, as it has kept Wen Ning about four feet away from him from everyangle and he hasnāt been able to break through the barrier, not even after theadded strain of several fierce corpses that have been roaming the remote villagefor days on end.
Therefore, his inscription canāt be incorrect in thatsense, no. Itās just ⦠the ward works toowell, is the thing.
When the paper burned up and the hour mark has passed,Wen Ning is still unable to get anywhere nearer, bounced back against the invisiblebarrier like a stone, skipping across the surface of a lake. Not only that: noone else has been able to either. Notany of the villagers, their grateful bows directed towards the Lan juniors andtheir liquor bottles towards Wei Ying, not any of the juniors and not even LanShizui, increasingly worried the more the sun dips, low into the horizon.
At last, knowing that he must have made a mistake ortwo somewhere, Wei Ying watches as a birdcanāt sit on a branch when he stands underneath it, watches on as the curiouscat that has been sniffing at the robes of every unknown person, keeps pawing atthe barrier with a bit of irritation at the tip of her tail.
It isnāt trulyworrying Wei Ying yet. He can touch the liquor bottle and drink from it justfine, and some talismans were known to dissipate after half a nightās time at earliest.Maybe he added a stroke too many to his blueprint, strengthening and prolongingthe effect inadvertently.
He couldnāt have accidentally created a full on permanentbarrier, he knows that, because thereis no visible or spiritual writing anywhere on his clothes or his person andhis paper prototype has been ashes as soon as he surged his powers through itsform.
So he convinces the juniors to stay for dinner andsettle in for the night; itās past everyoneās bedtime and the comforting scent ofsoup and roasting meat painfully flares the hunger in Wei Yingās stomach,overriding any lasting thoughts of worry or anxious fears.
His mood doesdip slightly when he realizes he canāt truly share the table with anyone, thesweet taste of the sugar spun fruits souring in his mouth with every lonelybite. Heās gotten too used to this easy kind of company, to Lan Zhanās quiet,steady presence, his fingers never too far from Wei Yingās aid, from gettingtangled up with Wei Yingās own. Heās gotten used to the bundle of juniors followinghim around during the classes he teaches (to Lan Qirenās unending chagrin) andhe almost misses JingYiās ā a little tooloud ā voice right next to his ear.
His exasperated huff must reach all the way across thetavern, because Lan Shizui stands as close as he can to his table now, hiseyebrows etched with something nervous and small. He pauses as he tests the wardonce more, with the tip of his shoe.
āAre you sure we shouldnāt head back right away,Senior Wei?ā he asks, ever considerate and Wei Ying sees Lan WangJiās teachingsfilling out A-Yuanās shoulders, the chambers of his heart. It makes him missLan Zhan suddenly, with a pang of something sore, like swallowing a painfulgulp of water, feeling it travel all the way down his throat.
He rubs his sternum through his robes, the phantomfeeling making him feel silly (theyāve been gone for barely a day and a half) as he shakes his head.āThereās no point in leaving this late. Weāll arrive too late for breakfast ifwe do, anyway,ā he reasons, but A-Yuanās face stays cautious, eyebrows drawn. (Heāstoo good of a child, honestly, Wei Ying thinks.)
āWhat if theward isnāt gone in the morning?ā he asks and Wei Ying drinks another cup ofwine, just to dissipate the distant, cold restlessness stuck at the back of hisskull. Thereās no need to be worried, yet.
But it must be a question thatās not just runningthrough Shizuiās mind, because the white robes of the juniors have gotten muchcloser now, JingYiās questioning look clearly convicting him of eavesdropping,alongside with the others, craning their necks in a ā fully inconspicuous āway.
Wei Ying feels a smile graze his face as he watchesthem quietly strain their ears, despite how obvious they are, how much he stillhas to teach them.
(Are they even trying to hide their curiosity at all?)
āThen it wonāt matter if I find out here or in theJingshi,ā he decides to come back to the question, answering it firmly, decisionmade.
(Itāll just worry Lan Zhan if they arrive and theeffects are not gone, he adds, for only his heart to hear.)
He gets up, brushing out his robes, stepping aroundthe table. Worrying Lan Zhan is one of the last things he ever wants to do.
Copying his movement, the juniors stand up from theirempty bowls and reserve a tired bow to the owner as they head up the stairs totheir bedrooms, quiet enough not to wake anyone else. Shizui and JingYi are thelast in line and they reluctantly look over at Wei Wuxian as he stands at theentrance of his own room, the dissatistified look on JingYiās face so much morevisible than the slight crook of Shizuiās eyebrows, the corner of his lips.
JingYi opens his mouth, undoubtedly to argue Shizuiāspoint again in a more, well, JingYiway, but Wei Ying is faster, interrupting him as soon as he takes in a slightlybigger breath.
āGo to bed. Worry about the report youāll have towrite, if you want to think about something,ā he tells them, with a smile thatis just a little bit too fond and after a moment of decision between arguingfurther and just letting it be for the night, they slowly step over thethreshold of their room, closing the door behind them, softly and slow. WeiYing lets himself collapse onto the single bed of his, a little too stiff underhis weight but clean and with thick covers and a pillow so soft it begs for himto stick his face in.
He really should take his own advice, he thinks as ayawn cracks through the bones of his jaw; his thoughts scattered across theheavy set of his mind. He thinks of Lan Zhan, of a symbol he might have torewrite on the talisman, of Lan Zhanās chest rising and falling, the lullaby ofbeing there that he plays to Wei Yingevery night.
He doesnāt recall anything after that.
ā
Wei Ying knows heās stalling. Heās decided to stay inCaiyi Town for lunch, sending the juniors ahead and idling about the riverbank, picking all the deserted spots so as not to raise too much attention,twirling Chenqing and wondering just howheāll explain this to Lan Zhan so that his mouth and brows donāt curl into thatconcerned shape like they do whenever he does something detrimentally stupid,usually to himself.
He doesnāt get far beyond the edge of the town after hefinally starts up the journey up themountain when he spots him, the afternoon trailing across his robes, awakeningthe woven patterns as Lan WangJi walks towards him, regal and ethereal asalways; even more so with the sun gingerly touching his features between thetrees.
(The same sun feels suddenly way too warm on WeiYingās own neck.)
āLan Zhan!ā He greets him, happily, despite theprevious moments of avoidance: something about this man just reassures him tothe deepest parts of his soul, calls him to be paid attention by.
Lan WangJi pauses, stands at the exact border of thecharm, tracing the unseen outlines with his eyes before he carefully extendshis fingers, the tips pressing against the ward. Ā
āWei Ying,ā he answers, in a tone hard to describe:relief, concern, affection, each atthe tip of a different finger, a different note.
(Wei Yingās heart is an instrument, lovingly played.)
āDonāt look so worried, Lan Zhan! My dearestHanGuangJun,ā Wei Ying smiles and itās never been so difficult to keep still,to keep away from that beautiful face in front of him, kissable and dear. āIāmperfectly fine, see? Aiya, the children must have been telling you all kinds ofgruesome stuff, havenāt they?ā he twirls around just to show he can, thatthereās nothing hurt or aching (besides his poor heart, trying to press itselfout of his ribcage, pulled towards Lan WangJiās own).
Lan WangJi watches, a stern look slowly seeping intohis features, a sigh buried deep within his lungs. Heās not fooled and Wei Yingknows this, all too well.
āShizui said no creature living or dead can get closeto you,ā Lan WangJi answers and an aborted twitch of his arm belies the intentto hold, to try to defy the limits of whatever Wei Ying has created, despitethe impossibility of it all.
(Itās more painful than Wei Ying imagined it would be,if heās honest with himself.)
(Heās not.)
He lets out a sigh, tracing the invention heās stuckin through the air, each stroke a confident memory. āI must have strengthenedthe effect of the charm with a stroke too many somewhere. I already have a fewideas to try out,ā he promises and while Lan WangJi still doesnāt look happy, probablythinking: how many have you tried already,unsuccessfully?, he nods anyway, aligns himself at Wei Yingās side as closeas can be, always beside him, always a guardian of Wei Yingās own.
āLetās go back,ā he says and the smile Wei Ying feelsblooming on his own face is positively hurting his cheeks. He grins, relieved. āLetāsgo home, Lan Zhan,ā he agrees, pleased at the warm hue enveloping Lan WangJiāsears like little buds of flowers.
No touches needed for Lan Zhanās ears to go warm, henotes, fondly amused.
(Thoroughly in love.)
ā
Neither of them can sleep peacefully that night. LanWangJi forfeits his bed to sleep at the other side of the room, even when Wei Yinghimself protests profusely against it (to no avail).
If itās the unfamiliar scenery of their empty bed orsimply being too far away from Lan WangJi himself he canāt tell, but not evenWei Yingās usual bedtime can lull him to sleep. He misses the satisfied achesof a night well spent, of loving and being loved in Lan Zhanās arms and feelingeach of his touches bitten into his skin; the only pain heās currently feelingis the unpleasant twitch at his back as he slumps over the table, scribblingnonsense into his notes.
So maybe he hasmessed up. Heās studied every strokeās direction and count on his blueprint,has corrected all the places he felt unsure about and yet, not one modificationhas worked one bit. Heās cast tens of reverse charms, trying to unweave the spellheās trapped himself in but nothing has changed: the space heās isolated inhasnāt shrunk and not even one of the bunnies has been able to hop through tonibble at his robes (heās been baiting them with carrots all evening so thatthey would actually get near enough to him, too).
Wei Ying doesnāt think heās an impatient person. Heāsnot patient per se, either, but heās able to withstand things. To persevere.Heās lived through enough to know that heāll thrive in places others go to to becondemned and damned: heāll root through the soil and heāll rise like a lotusflower, crawling through to live, to resurface, to be plucked by Lan Zhanāskindness, by his heart.
Perhaps Wei Yingās been spoiled. Spoiled by Lan Zhanāsvery own hands and very own warmth: he simply doesnāt want to struggle anymore.He wants instead, yearns, he wantscomfort and softness and affection and heās frustrated when itās this close yetout of his reach altogether. Itās in the very room they share, in the robesthey store in the same place, in the kisses they wear on each otherās lips;theyāre two strings bound together.
And now theyāre like two parallel rivers, longing toget closer but held apart by earth itself, by soil and trees, the miles inbetween.
Wei Ying must have been worn down by Lan Zhanās love,a stone sanded down to a grain, because heās frustrated and unsettled, alonein a choice of his own making. But maybe itās Lan Zhanās fault too, just alittle bit, Wei Ying thinks, petulant. Just for all the ways he has indulgedWei Ying, spoiled him to pieces.
Itās completely unfair.
As if responding to his thoughts, Lan WangJi shiftsunder his blanket and his face turns towards Wei Yingās, laid down on the table,the feeble cushion of own his arms. Lan WangJiās still asleep and Wei Ying letsout a quiet huff, just to conquer the need to curse at his own stupid luck, thegrind of his frustration.
āLan Zhan,ā he whines, quietly, barely a sound underhis breath. āHow unlucky is it of me to have you so near yet unable to touchyou at all? How miserable is this fate of ours, keeping us apart like this?Truly such rotten luck,ā he complains, letting the childish words run theircourse, soothe the fear guarding the back of his throat.
He tiredly follows the slope of Lan WangJiās nose withhis eyes, the bow of his mouth, the press of his chest, the dips and highs ofhis knuckles; falls asleep to the longing of a man dying at an empty well.
He wakes up confused and sleepy, thoughts still sunkenunder the syrupy pull of a dream, a blanket stolen from their bed slipping downhis shoulders as he raises his head and blinks: Lan WangJi is sits across fromhim, a cup of tea in hand.
āLan Zhan, good morning,ā Wei Ying, smiles, softly,but purses his lips upon noticing where heās slept, confused. āWhy am I sleepingon the table? And why are you sitting so far away and not right next to me?ā heasks through a stretch and a yawn; what a strange morning it is. Usually Lan WangJinever lets him get away with falling asleep on the table or in the bathtub andalways carries him off, carries him right into their bed ā
āOh,ā the memory falls on him like a bucket of water, cuttinghis stretch short. Lan WangJi simply pushes a steaming bowl across the table:the bowl inches closer over to where Wei Ying has pillowed his head on hisarms, but Lan WangJiās own fingers cannot pass beyond the outer edge of hisnotes.
āStill here, huh,ā Wei Ying comments and Lan WangJinods; pushes more insistently. It must be close to lunch time, the air insideof the Jingshi warm and fragrant, the afternoon outside inviting itself inwithin a soft breeze.
āEat your breakfast,ā Lan WangJi says, picking up hisown cup again, carefully adjusting his sleeve. Wei Ying accepts the hot bowl ofcongee, sipping at its contents and contemplates, grazing his lips across therim.
He vaguely feels fifteen again, waiting for Lan WangJito look his way, to pay attention to his whims.
āLan Zhan. HanGuang-Jun. Did you throw this at me?ā Hetouches the blanket after a moment between them stretches and laughs when LanWangJi nods, then looks at the papers strewn all over the table.
āAny progress?ā
Wei Ying swallows another gulp of his congee and shakeshis head, supporting his chin with his palm. āThere must be something Iām missing.Will you look at it as well for me?ā He takes the papers and pushes them allthe way across and leans back, waits for Lan WangJi to accept them, follows hisface as he meticulously reads every line, studies every annotation and scribble.
His forehead ribbon is as immaculate as ever and WeiYing really wants to play with it, tug at the ends and mess up the linecrossing Lan WangJiās forehead, hold it until all of its length is as warm asthe parts warmed by Lan WangJiās skin.
It reminds him of the time he had a paper body,blowing Lan WangJi a kiss and crooking his ribbon, annoying Lan WangJiās patience,when all of this between them was still unsure and hidden away.
āLan Zhan, remember when I ā wait,ā Wei Ying stops, straighteningup, and Lan WangJiās eyes flicker towards him, caught by the movement, sudden,a spring unleashed. āAll this time, Iāve been trying to dispel the ward fromthe inside. But maybe it can only be reversed from the outside.ā He taps his chin with a finger, already biting into histhumb. āI mean, this kind of thing doesnāt usually happen and therefore doesnātneed to be specified, but I didspecify the outside protection so maybe Iāve only made it reversible from theoutside, as well.ā
Lan WangJi opens his palm and waits for the freshlymade talisman to flutter his way, catching it smoothly between his fingers. āIāllcast it,ā he nods.
āMn, yeah. Thank you, Lan Zhan.ā Wei Ying smiles andthe hope swells in him like a tidal wave, like the breath you take in afterbeing submerged for minutes on end. The sound he lets out when the paper burnsout and Lan WangJi is still unable to touch him is almost pained, like all theweight of the failure dragged his heart down to his feet.
He lets out a frustrated growl instead and his headthuds against the table, nearly knocking his finished bowl of congee over.
Lan WangJi sighs too, quietly, almost like he forgotto breathe for a moment as well and just remembered, willed his lungs to let go.
āAre there more?ā
Wei Ying looks up. āMore reverse spells?ā
āMn.ā
āIāve written down a few.ā
āI will try them as well.ā Lan WangJi gathers up WeiYingās notes again, copies down all of the talismans, no matter how minisculethe correction and uses them one by one, always pausing to test if it worked,relentlessly, without a second of complaint or anger, without losing hope.
How heās so composed, so seemingly calm ruffles WeiYingās feathers ā he wants to ruffle Lan Zhanās instead, but not like this, not in ways that hurt underneath: hewants to watch him flick all of them back into its place, not render him unableto fly.
Yet thereās this undeniable, irrational annoyance whenthe last talisman is gone and instead of offering alternatives, Lan WangJi proposesWei Ying should take a bath, Wei Yingās inner robes the ones that heās arrivedin yesterday, his hair tangled up around his ribbon in stubborn knots.
āA bath wonāt solve anything,ā he protests but LanWangJiās already gotten up, leaving to fetch their bathtub and hot water,silently preparing it like he always does, like nothingās different, payinglittle attention to Wei Yingās protests beyond a glance.
Wei Ying keep sitting down at the table, as aprinciple, because there are more pressing matters than a dirty robe, like whyheās still not figured this out and why his notes arenāt clear to his own mind, why Lan Zhanās fine with all of this, why is he notvisibly upset, why isnāt he angry with him for causing this mess.
Why, instead, he stands as close (far, far) as he can, beckoning him into the water.āWei Ying,ā he says and just stands there and watches him like Wei Yingās the unreasonable one, theneedlessly annoyed child.
āFine,ā WeiYing huffs, giving in after a two minute stare down, jerkily taking off hisclothes right there at the table, notstomping across the room naked, plopping into the water with an unnecessarysplash.
The water presses into all of his tensed up musclesand it does clear his head as hedunks it under, refreshes parts of him he didnāt realize were this tired as hescrubs the remnants of travel and uncomfortable sleep off, decidedly notlooking Lan WangJiās way.
Heās slowly getting unwound by the soft suds slippingoff his shoulder, the weight of his body that just always lifts when heās inthe water, when heās brought back to being small and never cold anymore: he canalmost feel Shijieās careful fingers combing through his hair.
(He can almost feel Lan Zhanās, even gentler,somehow.)
Wei Ying sighs.
Heās not sulking and heās not feeling guilty for being petulant, for making things harder forthe one person whoās chosen every hardship just to be by his side, just toprotect what heās already lost once before.
When he looks up, embarrassed at his own meltdown, LanWangJi is at his work table, two stacks of papers neatly pressed against eachother, one pile decidedly bigger than the second and Wei Yingās hit with hownormal, how routine this feels: Lan Zhan grading reports as Wei Ying bathes,Wei Ying reaching over and helping when his cheeks are already pink and hisskin all scrubbed, commenting on the wonky calligraphy of one student, praisingthe neatness and detailed work of anotherās next.
Itās still a long way until evening but Wei Yingshifts in the tub until heās at the other side, wet fingers tapping at the edgeof the desk. āLet me help, Lan Zhan,ā he offers, drying his hands and eventhough thereās the everlasting unnatural gap between them, it calms his heart,this quiet time of togetherness, this little piece of normalcy.
His irritation dissipates fully, sinking to the bottomof the bathwater, forsaken and ashamed.
ā
Lan WangJi collects Wei Yingās discarded clothes to bewashed, pausing at the threshold, holding the inner robe close, enclosed withinhis arms, wrinkled and worn. He lifts the cloth to his lips, inhales shakilyagainst the tightness of his pulse, the emotions knotting up his heart.
He stalls, allows himself this minute of longing, thisminute outburst of missing a person whoās standing right in front of you, sofamiliar yet strange, unreachable.
(He makes sure that Wei Ying doesnāt ā that no one āsees.)
ā
Another two nights pass and Wei Ying decides to stophiding in the Jingshi and doesnāt cancelhis late afternoon class like theyāve planned: heās bored out of his mind.
(And heās not getting any new ideas either, anyway.)
Lan WangJiwanted for them to head to the Library Pavilion right after breakfast buttruthfully, Wei Ying is going stir crazy, stuck at the table and riflingthrough notes close to two days in a row now. He needs some movement and aslovely as watching Lan WangJi is, he needs a change of scenery, too ā and eventhough itās not night, he can still teach the juniors a thing or two,especially when the sun beckons so sweetly and the news of a lone ghoul findingits way into a pond halfway to Caiyi Town has reached Gusu just days before.
(It reminds him of Yunmeng summer days, sticky and hot,with a bundle of juniors at his heels and Jiang Cheng scowling right next tohis side.)
It barely stings anymore, memories like this, so helets them pass, focuses on the uniform footsteps that follow in his wake.
āWho can tell me where weāre headed?āhe turns aroundas he asks, pausing when the juniors seem to be hesitating on the cuff of the crossroad,not one disciple trying to answer his question or meeting his eyes.
He frowns. āWhatās wrong with you all? Did someonespill chili powder into your breakfast?ā he asks again, teasing, but his eyesnarrow when even A-Yuan shifts nervously. āCome on, spit it out. Whatās thematter?ā He tries for a gentler tone and unsurprisingly, itās JingYi that stepsforward, a stubborn air to his stride.
āWhy wasnāt HanGuang-Jun seeing us off today?ā heaccuses, quickly, and some of the juniors nod their head along.
Wei Ying gapes.
āHuh?ā
āHanGuang-Jun wasnāt āā
āI heard you, I heard you!ā he interrupts, indisbelief.
No one makes a single move for what feels like anhour, no one starts laughing telling him heās fallen for this elaborate prank,this gaggle of teens frowning upon him for not letting his husband see him off.
Okay. Whatās trulygoing on?
āHanGuang-Jun hasbetter things to do than standing around watching people leave,ā Wei Yingcounters, arms crossed in front of his chest. Heās never been faced with thejuniorsā disapproval like this and heās as taken aback as heās slightlyannoyed.
(Isnāt there a rule that says not to question yourelders about their love life or something?)
āBut he always sees us off when we leave with SeniorWei,ā a disciple interjects, quietly piping up from among the crowd. Thedisciples around him nod, gravely, as if theyāre judges of a severe crime,ready to profess him guilty as charged.
(Wei Ying feels like heās living through a rathersurreal dream.)
āSenior Wei, did you tell HanGuang-Jun we were leavingCloud Recesses?ā Shizui asks then, kindly, with the smallest hint of hesitationthat tells Wei Ying heās worried about something, troubled by the possibleanswer Wei Ying will give.
It softens Wei Yingās temper, just a little bit.
āArenāt you guys being a little too much? HanGuang-Junknows perfectly well I am teaching a class.ā He doesnāt quite know Wei Ying has left Gusu, per se, true, but theyāre goingbarely halfway to Caiyi Town. It doesnāt even count as a field trip.
āHanGuang-Jun always tells Senior Wei goodbye, nomatter how far we go!ā
āThatās right!ā
āYeah!ā
The disciples chime in and for once, Wei Ying almostregrets how openly him and Lan Zhan operate. Now even the kids think they areprivy to the details of their relationship, is it?
āWe believe you didnāt tell him we were leaving CloudRecesses at all! Because the ward is still there and HanGuang-Jun wouldnāt behappy with you leaving in such a condition!ā JingYi finishes for everyone andWei Ying has a moment of thorough disbelief at how transparent both his and LanZhanās motives seem to be.
(And here he used to believe his husband was an enigmato anyone but Zewu-Jun.)
āYou kids āā
āHanGuang-Jun has been really worried for Senior Wei!ā
āMaybe we should head back?ā
āYeah!ā
Wei Ying subtly pinches himself, making sure he trulyis not, in fact, stuck in a fever dream.
āAm I still with the obedient, quiet, good Landisciples? Or have they all been possessed?āHe shakes his head, uncrossing hisarms to put them on his hips, authoritatively (he hopes).
āNow, everybody, listen up. Of course I told everyonewho needed to know where we are going. While I am objectively the safest I canbe in this state, it is you juniors we are worried about. So of course thereāssomeone who knows where we are. And I have signal flares with me in case we runinto more trouble than we can handle.ā Not that itās likely, if there truly isonly one or a couple of water ghouls ā they should be perfectly capable oftaking care of a situation like that, even withouta supervising elder.
Thereās a hum that sweeps through the crowd Ā at that and with distinct relief upon nofurther protests being received, Wei Ying deems the problem settled, returningto his first, original question, repeating it just a tad louder to overpowerthe remaining echoes of suspicion and his own rattling surprise:
āNow, does really noone know where weāre headed?ā
ā
Naturally, Wei Ying cannot keep the childrenāsoutburst to himself.
Heās sprawled on the ground with a cup full of wine andwith his stomach all warmed up by dinner, just spicy enough to redden hischeeks a little, just red enough to quicken his pulse (or is that all Lan Zhan,watching him so intently?)
So, naturally,Wei Ying complains, shaking his head after taking a generous, alcoholic sip. āCanyou believe the children accused me of not telling you I was leaving with themtoday? They were saying I didnāt let you tell me goodbye!ā
āYou didnāt,ā Lan WangJi retorts, not disapprovingly,but his lips might be just a littlebit tighter, pursed the tiniest amount.
(Wei Ying wishes he could kiss them, kiss all of itoff.
Alas -)
āI told your Uncle,ā he defends himself, belatedly andLan WangJi pauses as he refills his own cup of tea, herbal and scented aftermedicine, the fragrance bittersweet.
Wei Ying quickly raises his own cup, chasing the heavyscent from his throat. āAnd we didnāt go far! Not even as far as Caiyi Town,āhe adds.
Lan WangJi takes his time with his answer, but after amoment he sighs, voice soft. āI still wish to tell you goodbye, no matter whereyou go or how long you will be gone for.ā Heās talking carefully, as if heāsteaching this, as if heās intent on not being misunderstood.
Itās endearing as hell.
āThatās what the juniors said too,ā Wei Ying responds,grumbling, despite the pounding of his heart.
How can any man resist a confession this sincere?
āAnd, well ā Iām back now. Will you tell me welcomeback?ā He grins. He means it as a tease, a way to change the subject of beingguilty of exactly of what he wasaccused of: but Lan Zhanās just too good of a person, too good of a man to notdo it anyway.
āMn. Welcome back, Wei Ying.ā
God. Wei Yingās insides hurt with how much he wants to touch him, devour him on the spot.He hurts with how much he just wants and wantsand how every time heās being kept apart, itās by his own doing, his ownfaults, his own actions, keeping him stranded in empty fields, in places thateat him alive.
āLan Zhan! Iwas clearly teasing you!ā he yelps and hides his flushed face behind the cup ofwine heās emptied two times over by now; peeks over the edge.
Lan Zhanās never letting him go.
āMn. But greetings are polite. Wei Ying should saygoodbye properly next time, as well,ā Lan WangJi says, tucking in whatās trulybothered him in such an efficient way Wei Ying just canāt help but feeladmonished and endeared ā again ā at the same time.
āYour notes say so, as well,ā Lan WangJi adds and itāsa strange enough remark to tilt the world right into its axis again, away fromLan WangJi and words that Wei Ying canāt possibly fit all in, canāt keep all ofthem without an overflow.
(Lan WangJi is always so helpful, he truly is.)
āMy notes?ā Wei Ying shuffles through the ā lessmessy now that Lan WangJiās organized them ā papers on the table, trying tofind what Lan WangJi means. Has he mentioned anything like that on them?
āMn. Here. āDonāt forget to say goodbye.āā Lan WangJiāsfinger points to a corner of Wei Yingās final page, underneath the finishedlayout of the ward.
Wei Yingās heart stutters.
ā⦠Lan⦠Zhan. Lan Zhan! āHe laughs, and stumbles,hastily getting up with a sudden buoyancy of hope, of a memory gasping for air.
āOf course itās this simple!ā He laughs again and his reliefcould span the universe, itās so vast and deep. He claps and perfectlypronouncing, says: āGoodbye.ā and even though he doesnāt feel any difference, inhis gut he knows: it worked. He knows because heās remembered, heās finally remembered and he curses his badmemory, curses working late into the night, half delirious and halfway todrunk, because it has finally bit him in the ass.
God, he really should listen to Lan Zhan more.
With a leap that might have sent all his notes flying,Wei Ying jumps into Lan WangJiās arms, somehow already open and prepared tocatch him as he crashes into Lan WangJiās lap heavily, kissing every inch ofLan WangJiās cheeks and nose and temples, pecking his lips and holding onto him,desperately, holding onto the one anchor he has in this world.
āIām sorry Iām sorry Iām sorry,ā he repeats after eachkiss, chanting the words into Lan WangJiās skin and he knows, he knows thereās no Iām sorryās and no thank youās between them but heās finewith breaking the rules; heās kissing a thankyou right into Lan Zhanās mouth.
Lan WangJiās fingers tremble minutely against hisback, his heart is loud under Wei Yingās palm and Wei Ying loves him too muchto just not kiss him some more, to press himself into every little space leftbetween them, no matter how small.
Of course heāduse something so simple to break the ward. Something anyone can do. It is a talisman meant for ordinary people in thefirst place, not for cultivators: the person can best decide themself whentheyāre safe. When they do, the talisman vanishes, without any other wards,without any spiritual energy necessary. Ofcourse heād pick something he has felt so smart about only to forget aboutit right after.
Of course.
Lan WangJiās palm slips under his outer robe, his lipsmessing all of Wei Yingās thoughts up ā they fall apart when Lan WangJiāsfingers cross his skin and push his hips forward, keeping Wei Ying incredibly āimpossibly ā close.
Thereās a laughhe presses into Lan WangJiās cheek, right next to his temple, thereās anotherone trapped in the crook of Lan WangJiās neck, airy and soft.
I have missedyou, Lan WangJi says, in a crushingly gentle hold,bruising but tender; in a kiss tracing Wei Yingās hair, his neck, the curl ofhis shoulder.
Wei Yingās eyes sting.
He thinks he might never let Lan Zhan go.
(He thinks Lan Zhan wouldnāt mind it either, at all.)
āLan Zhan, Lan Zhan.āHis fingers cup Lan WangJiās face and he canāt help himself but push againstLan WangJiās cheeks, pressing his fingers against Lan WangJiās perfectlyimpeccable features. āTell me, Lan Zhan: would you have stayed even if Iāvenever remembered how to get rid of this? Would you have gotten sick of mehaving our bed all to myself? Would you have finally gotten angry at me forruining something good? Would you have told me to leave?Would you have saidgoodbye and found someone else to āā
āWei Ying,ā Lan WangJi interrupts him; face still alittle smushed, held fully between Wei Yingās palms, a frown hidden deep in hisvoice. āStop talking nonsense,ā he tells him, seriously, sincere.
There are tears falling off the precipice of WeiYingās jaw, dropping onto his arms like heated wax, a melting sob curling up inhis throat. Lan WangJi stays still under his fingertips but his thumb brushes atear away from Wei Yingās cheek, rests underneath, waits for more sadness todispel.
āI want you, wherever you are,ā he says, simply and WeiYing doesnāt know why he was crying in the first place, why he continues tofeel tears slip past his cheeks but soon after, Lan WangJiās mouth replaces histhumb, replaces the air on Wei Yingās own lips and they donāt quite tumble intobed: they donāt really make it that far.
For once, Wei Ying doesnāt complain about it, at all.



















