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Jiang Cheng was truthfully, no longer certain that he had ever seen the mountain god Lan Xichen. He had the faintest foggy memory of the god when he was seemingly on the brink of death. His golden core had been crushed, the effect of which had left him in a state of depression. The exhaustion of it all making him sick and only able to cling helplessly to his brother’s back, as they went up the mountain. It was a long shot, they both knew that. However, they hoped the god who lived at the peak of the mountain might take pity and grant him some good fortune. Jiang Cheng was destined to be the next sect leader of the Yunmeng Jiang Clan, something that he believed could not be done without a golden core. Chances had to be taken, any chance, no matter how unlikely.
The slim chance had paid off though. The praying and pleading that Wei Wuxian had done on Jiang Cheng’s behalf had coaxed the mountain god into appearing before them. Lan Xichen, an ethereal figure clad in white robes, was now nothing more than a vision that began to blend into the mist of Jiang Cheng’s memory. The young sect leader wished that he could remember the kind deity that had granted his biggest prayer more. More than the hazy outline of a figure with a kind, deep voice, and golden eyes. More than the gentle smile gracing the god’s face that spoke of a deeper understanding of the pain Jiang Cheng had been through.
Unfortunately, the months since that day bled into years, leaving Jiang Cheng more and more doubtful that the memories he had were anything more than hazy hallucinations of exhaustion. The only proof of the interaction between him and the god were the reassurances of his brother and the feeling of his returned spiritual power and golden core when he awoke again at the foot of the mountain. Jiang Cheng had made a swear of devotion to the god, Lan Xichen, then and there, at the foot of the mountain cheering up to the peak with a raised voice of gratitude. He promised to return to the mountain peak monthly to leave prayers and offerings to the deity that had allowed him to follow his destiny.
Lan Xichen watched from a distance as the young sect leader came to leave offerings, admiring the devotion of the man. The young man had kept the promise he had made at the foot of the mountain. Every month for years he had returned to the mountain peak, despite the distance, to pray and express his endless gratitude. It was endearing. There had been many others who had come to pray at this mountain top, and plenty others whose prayers he had answered. However, none had been as truly devoted to their display of gratitude and none had faithfully left offers. At least, not in the same way the young sect leader did.
The offerings were sweet, lotus seed pods and flowers from Yunmeng. Lan Xichen felt it a sign of the Jiang Clan. A sign that it was doing well, because of his intervention.
He watched as every month, for every year Jiang Cheng kept returning to the mountain. He was a god, there was no reason for him to be taking such solace in the simple return and devotion of one human. But Lan Xichen longed for the days that he would once again see the young sect leader climb up the mountain, longed for seeing the man bow deeply, hair falling forward over his shoulders. It was becoming a familiar feeling, the stirrings in his chest. The joy he felt when he saw the familiar figure once again, and the inevitable sadness that invaded him as he watched him depart. It was insanely sentimental, Lan Xichen thought.
He stepped out of the shadows of the pine trees, bending to pick up the flowers and seed pods that Jiang Cheng had left behind. Though he was only ever gone for a month, the flowers never lasted that long. He found himself missing him. He brought the flowers to his face, deeply inhaling the delicate scent. The cream-colored petals gently brushed against his cheeks and nose. The scent was pleasant, sweet, and surprisingly fresh despite being several days old. It was clear that the young sect leader used small amounts of his spiritual energy to keep the offerings fresh and lively through the long journey, allowing them to be held dear to the god for longer. It only endeared Jiang Cheng to him more.
But the flowers were soon to wilt, such was the nature of something so delicate and fragile. They were beautiful, but they were nothing more than seconds in Lan Xichen’s life, a beauty held in his hand one moment and gone the next.
Jiang Cheng was used to the mountain path and the clearing that housed the god by now. Countless trips have made him well acquainted with each turn in the trail, each pine tree that swayed in the wind, and each stray root jutting out of the ground. It caused him to pause when he reached the clearing because there was an unmistakable change. Jiang Cheng stopped on the smooth gray stone that marked the end of the trail and glanced around.
The reflective pond’s edges were masked with blooming lotus buds. There were less than a dozen, but they were unmistakably there. He set the basket he carried with him down and examined the pond again.
“Maybe the wind blew them in,” he questioned himself, head tilted in thought. But even the pond was new. A breeze couldn’t create a pond of this size, nor allow lotuses to take root in only a month. He took a few confident strides forward, coming to a stop at the edge of the water. He placed his hands on his hips and huffed. Closer, he could see imperfections in the environment. Namely-- “This needs to be weeded.”
There was nothing else for it, he settled on. He made quick work of undoing his gauntlets, rolling up his sleeves, and kneeling down to begin plucking out weeds. Most of the unwanted plants lingered around the sloping shoreline, making them easy to reach without soiling his robes entirely, but he could see that weeding wouldn’t be enough. Each time he dipped a hand into the pond, he could easily reach the soil without the water reaching his mid-forearm. ‘Not nearly deep enough,’ he thought to himself, bringing himself to his feet and shaking his hands free of dripping water.
He paused, looking around to figure out how he’d accomplish this task. His gaze settled on his basket for a split second before turning to the tree line, searching for any sign of the mountain god. He cleared his throat, straightening out his robes. “I know you’re here, or, well, I assume you are…” he mumbled the last bit more to himself than anything, suddenly feeling a little ridiculous for being unable to resist caring for the flowers much like he did his own.
“I need to grab a few things to assure your lotus bed will survive.” Jiang Cheng emptied his basket of the offerings, bowing humbly, albeit a little rushed, before turning to descend the mountainside again.
He had to return to the nearest town to purchase some basic supplies for the task ahead. A small spade, namely, to dig the pond to a more suitable depth and a rake to smooth the pond bed. He also had to evade the probing questions of his brother, who was doing his best to be supportive. But Wei Wuxian had full rights to be skeptical. Jiang Cheng was about to head up the home of a mountain god with a shovel and a scowl of determination that would scare anyone else away. But Jiang Cheng wasn’t about to explain himself either, especially not to Wei Wuxian who would tease him for caring for a mountain god’s lotus bed.
His short trip ended up being longer than he intended, and the sun was high in the sky before he made it to the peak once more. This was, by no means, an easy feat. There was no time to waste. As it was, it was likely to be nightfall before he finished. Jiang Cheng quickly stripped off his boots, socks, and outer robes, depositing them into a neat pile before stepping into the pond. That water was cold, shockingly so. Enough to make Jiang Cheng flinch and consider jumping out and abandoning the effort altogether.
Instead, he grit his teeth, scowling against the frigid water lapping against his calves, and brought the spade down into the soft mud.
Lan Xichen watched from the tree line. Watched as the sect leader carefully dug up the lotuses, laying them gently in the grass so as not to damage them in the renovation. Watched as he dug up shovelful after shovelful of dirt, heaving wet clumps of earth out of the water. He was, frankly, a little awed at the tender care that Jiang Cheng was showing the flowers, awed at the way he couldn’t help but ensure the lives of the flowers. Slowly, the pond was getting deeper.
Jiang Cheng could feel the watchful gaze on his back as he worked. Normally, he hated when he could feel someone watching him, hated giving people the option to criticize him. But now….Well, he had an oath to upkeep. And perhaps this was outside of what he had promised, but he wasn’t about to walk away from a task that felt right to do. So, just this once, he found himself not being uncomfortable under the gaze. It almost felt comforting, like the one watching was doing it with the utmost admiration. It gave him added determination to finish what he had begun, withstanding icy waters and physically exhausting toil. He was not going to disappoint the god that had given him so much.
It took hours for Jiang Cheng to be satisfied with the depth and evenness of the pond bed. Heaving himself out of the waters to rest on the grass, he sighed. He would’ve stopped sooner, would call it a day now even, if the lotuses didn’t desperately need to be replanted. He wiped the dirt from his hands onto his already soiled and soaked under robes before retying his hair, which had fallen loose ages ago. There was not enough daylight left for him to rest long. The sun was already beginning its descent through the sky, darkening the shade of blue with each passing moment. When Jiang Cheng began his descent down the mountain once more to bring in fresh water from a nearby stream, he hardly felt he had rested at all. And each trek back up and down the mountain was only adding to his fatigue, made worse by the weight of the pot he purchased to haul the water the distance. His mental fortitude was the only thing getting him through, and as the hour got later, that was wearing thin too.
It was with utter relief and exhaustion that Jiang Cheng sighed once the last lotus was rehomed, and he could finally sit and rest his aching muscles. And the Jiang Clan disciples had the nerve to complain that his exercises were too tough, he scoffed. He had never been exhausted like this after a day of training, even in his youth when he trained harder and longer. But he was never as satisfied as he was now either, watching the cream-white blossoms sway in the breeze, shining in the moonlight. Jiang Cheng leaned his head back against the pine tree behind him, gazing up at the stars that danced in the dark sky. His eyes scanned for constellations, an easy task to let his mind and body rest. He was dreading getting up and having to walk back down the mountain. He certainly knew the path well enough to navigate in the dark, that wasn’t what was stopping him. He simply felt so peaceful. The worries of the world could not touch him here. He was tired, and his body ached, and the mountain top was just so tranquil.
He shook his head, snapping himself out of his tired daze. It would be far too easy to close his eyes and fall asleep in the soft grass if he continued to let his mind drift like that. Instead, he tilted his head back down and stopped. His gaze locked on a white-clad figure sat near the lotus pond, hand trailing against the blossoms. He was haloed by the moon. The dark hair that flowed down his back and over his shoulders shone like silk, and the ribbon that sat across his forehead and tangled in his hair looked like Orion’s belt in the night sky. His robes reflected the moonlight far more brilliantly than the flowers, pooling around him with ethereal grace. He looked as if he was made of starlight himself, bright and glimmering in the dark. And Jiang Cheng couldn’t look away if he tried, far too captivated by the beauty before him.
Lan Xichen turned to look at Jiang Cheng and smiled. He had done something extraordinary for the god. He had taken the small pond and transformed it into a haven for the flowers Lan Xichen had grown to love. And Lan Xichen felt his feelings for the sect leader shift from tender fondness to something deeper. Something he couldn’t quite place to words. Jiang Cheng began to move under the god’s gaze, looking as if he was going to begin bowing before him. A held up hand stopped him in his tracks.
“Please,” Lan Xichen said, crossing the distance between them. “There is no need for that now. You have shown more than enough devotion and gratitude today.” His voice was gentle and adamantly sincere.
Jiang Cheng did not return to his previous relaxed position, but he did not argue against Lan Xichen’s words either. He remained seated allowing the god to crouch down to his level, kind, light eyes scanning over him. He felt a stirring in his chest, a twinge of anxiety from the proximity. But it was more than that. Adoration, devotion, and above all else content. He was happy, even with the pair of eyes examining him with such warmth.
“You are so tired,” the gentle, deep voice whispered. Jiang Cheng remembered when that voice was nothing but a far-off memory. Now he wonders how he had ever gotten so close to forgetting it. Lan Xichen placed a cool hand against his forehead, easing exhaustion and worries with a singular touch. “Rest.”
Jiang Cheng couldn’t refuse if he tried. The singular word was inviting and warm, causing his eyelids to flutter shut without hesitation. Sleep found him soon after. With gentle hands, Lan Xichen pushed Jiang Cheng back to lean against the tree behind him. He didn’t want to let go of him. He didn’t want to take his hands away from where they now rested on his shoulders. Most especially, though, he didn’t want the morning to come. The dawn would wake the man before him and he would retreat down the mountain once more. Lan Xichen would be left in solitude for another month, with only the lotuses to remind him of the man he perhaps loved. Loved? Lan Xichen considered the word for a moment, moving a hand to gently caress Jiang Cheng’s cheek. Yes, he thought, I do believe that this is what love is.
The morning brought life to the mountain top. Birdsong floated through the air and delicate rays of sunlight hit Jiang Cheng’s face. He sat up straight, stretching the kinks and tension out of his joints. He was sore from the labor of yesterday and sleeping upright against a tree. But overall, he felt extremely well rested.
Lan Xichen sat a distance away near the edge of the pond. The morning sunlight didn’t bathe him in the same splendid light the moon did, but his beauty was unchanged. Jiang Cheng suddenly felt unbearably inadequate. And very aware that he was still only in his under robes which were hopelessly stained with mud and that his hair was a mess. He wrangled his hair into something almost presentable with a few quick tugs, but his clothes were another story. The neat pile that he had left near the pond edge had been moved to sit beside him, making getting dressed easier. They weren’t going to hide the dirt caked into the fibers of his underclothes though. He could only hope that the mud was dried enough not to stain anything else. He looked disheveled enough that he was going to have to thicken his face before venturing back down the mountain path.
He dressed quickly, dreading having to return to the inn and pretend as if he doesn’t notice or care about the inquisitive stares he was going to get going through town. A familiar scowl set into his face as he tied his sash belt, the final step in his process of getting dressed. He had no more reason to linger on the mountaintop today, even if he wanted to. Which he did. Desperately. It was the reprieve from the hassles of his life he longed for, and the god had shown himself again. Jiang Cheng didn’t know when, or if, this would ever happen again. Leaving would be wasting an opportunity to express his gratitude and to memorize the god’s face and voice so he never forgot again. But he didn’t want to intrude and offend him. And he wanted to get the feeling and smell of grimy pond water off his skin.
Jiang Cheng took confident strides over to the edge of the pond, still standing a few feet away from Lan Xichen, but close enough that he could see his face clearly. Just as Lan Xichen turned his head to acknowledge him, he dropped to his knees and bowed deeply. From his position, he couldn’t see the way Lan Xichen’s hand flew up to stop him, didn’t see how tucked his hand back onto his lap with a small grimace. The gesture was much more over the top than the bowing Jiang Cheng did regularly, almost a bow of regret and embarrassment than anything else. And that didn’t sit right with Lan Xichen.
“Thank you,” Jiang Cheng stated, clearly and with a carefully clipped voice. It was not the sincere voice that Lan Xichen had gotten to know any other time Jiang Cheng would address him in prayers. This was the voice of a sect leader, who knew how to keep his emotions measured and constrained so as not to offend others. “For allowing me to rest here for the night. I am deeply grateful for the sanctuary you granted me last night.”
“You are more than welcome to rest here whenever you need.” Lan Xichen could only hope his sincerity came across with those words. Jiang Cheng rose from his bow, but remained kneeling. He looked as if there was more he wished to say, his frown deepening on his face.
In the end, he settled on saying, “I must take my leave now. I have to return to Yunmeng.” He bowed again, this time to show respect before his departure, and again Lan Xichen could do nothing to stop him. He could do nothing to stop the aching of his heart upon hearing that Jiang Cheng would be leaving again, despite this being an inevitable of every meeting they had.
“I shall see you next month, then,” Lan Xichen said instead of a farewell.
Jiang Cheng bit the inside of his cheek to keep a smile from forming. “Until then.”
The next meeting didn’t only have Jiang Cheng anxious to see if the mountain god would appear before him again. He was also anxious to see if the lotuses had survived the month. He was confident in his ability to create an environment for them that would be more than adequate, and he had certainly put in the labor to prove that. But the air on the mountain was colder than what most lotuses preferred, and there was nothing that could be done about that. So it was only natural that he was concerned about the state of the flowers, having grown up around them, loving them as if they were an extension of himself.
And he was relieved to see that the lotus bed flourished. They were blooming stronger and healthier than before. Each passing visit also revealed that more and more flowers had taken root, and that made Jiang Cheng happy.
However, nothing compared to seeing the mountain god again. He was no longer a hazy memory. Jiang Cheng now knew the curve of his face, the sincerity of his smile, the tones of his voice, and the gentleness of his touch. He tried to reason it to himself as wanting to express his gratitude for everything he has, but he knew that it was much more than that. He wanted to selfishly memorize that face, never let it fade away to the recesses of his mind again. He had seen something truly beautiful, something he was nowhere near deserving of seeing, and craved seeing him again.
He was lucky, that’s what he told himself when Lan Xichen appeared before him again. He kept a respectful distance, standing along the tree line. His golden eyes lingered on Jiang Cheng as he gently cared for the lotuses. He was lucky to be in the presence of the mountain god. Lucky that for the following months, he stood in the tree line. Jiang Cheng relished every second he spent on the mountain, loving being in the company of Lan Xichen, even if they didn’t speak much. But each visit ended with a promise of Jiang Cheng’s returnal the next month. A promise of a comfort for both of them, much to Jiang Cheng’s dismay. He hated how he grew to long for the moments when he was in the company of Lan Xichen. It was moments of peaceful quiet, with no obligations to act strong with whip-sharp remarks ready to be lashed out at any moment. He could be gentle, be calm. He could allow himself a moment of selfishness. He could allow himself the gentle tuggings of his heart when he thought of the warm smile of Lan Xichen and his soft gaze that held no judgment. He could allow himself to dread leaving the solace on the mountain.
The routine he had come to find comforting was abruptly ended. Lan Xichen’s appearances hiding amongst the safety of the trees abruptly ended one day. Jiang Cheng arrived to see him sitting next to the pond, breeze tangling the tails of his forehead ribbon and hair together. His arrival caught the eye of Lan Xichen, who then gestured him over to sit with him. Jiang Cheng obeyed, bowing deeply before sitting. The grimace that briefly flashed across the god’s face did not go unnoticed.
“Did I do something wrong?” Jiang Cheng asked, his gut wrenching with anxiety. The thought that he had messed up again, just as he did so frequently was terrifying. The thought that he had somehow wronged Lan Xichen of all people, only made his worry grow.
Lan Xichen quickly shook his head, “You do not need to bow so deeply. Your respect and feelings are clear without it.” He explained, hiding how he truly felt and how the bowing made the distance greater. That it made his heart ache more than watching him leave.
It was Jiang Cheng’s turn to grimace then. Expressing his feelings openly to others was never his strong suit. When Lan Xichen had remained in hiding during his visits, he felt confident in his gestures. Now, he was being watched. His actions were always in the view of another, and he had to be all the more careful to not offend. And somehow, he had done just that. Every careful move to be respectful, every calculated effort to ensure he wouldn’t be his usual displeasing self was going to waste. I was so careful, he thought to himself, How did I do this again?
Jiang Cheng was not uncomfortable in Lan Xichen’s presence. Perhaps that was the problem. He never felt the uncomfortable crawling of his skin when he was under Lan Xichen’s gaze. He was always acutely aware of the eyes on him, but they didn’t make him uneasy. He could feel that they held...admiration, perhaps. He felt at peace beside him. It was terrifying, and thrilling, and absolutely maddening. Maybe he was going mad...
He distracted himself by reaching into the basket that sat beside him, retrieving the small bundle of lotus seed pods and flowers. The thought had occurred to him to find different offerings after the appearance of the lotus bed, but he couldn’t bring himself to. The offering had been a representation of himself, of who Lan Xichen helped him be.
The offerings were given without a word from the young sect leader, and the god took them with care, reverently caressing the petals in between two fingers. He was glad that he never stopped receiving the flowers from Jiang Cheng. They felt so personal, so much like him. They were strong, persevering through the changes thrown at them. Even the lotuses in the pond seemed to pale in comparison to the new bundles he was gifted every month.
Lan Xichen paused before choosing to ask, “I trust all is well in your sect?”
“It’s a challenge, building everything up from the ground again. And some of the disciples don’t take discipline well,” Jiang Cheng stopped himself. Lan Xichen didn’t need to hear the trivial complaints he had about his life when he owed everything he had to him. “It’s fine. I’m perfectly capable of managing it.”
Lan Xichen hummed. “You do not need to censor yourself. I don’t hear much news of the outside world, and I want to know of your clan.”
Jiang Cheng turned his gaze away from the man beside him to focus instead on the pond. “I should get started on caring for your lotuses.”
The most beautiful and melodic laugh burst forth for Lan Xichen, short and restrained as it was. Jiang Cheng stopped in his tracks. Amazement flooded his veins at the sound he just heard. And he couldn’t even fathom what he had said that had caused him to laugh. He wasn’t known for being funny. Yet, he had caused Lan Xichen to laugh.
Lan Xichen smiled, having calmed and now only able to cast an affectionate gaze at Jiang Cheng, “They are your lotuses. I planted them to remind me of you.” He softly murmured.
“What?” Jiang Cheng could feel his heart beginning to race, his cheeks flushing.
“You’ve grown very dear to me. I wanted to give you something of your home here.” He waited for Jiang Cheng to respond. It felt like he was waiting for hours. Each breath felt agonizing as he waited.
“Why?” He nearly choked on the anxiety welling up inside him.
“In the hopes you’d be willing to stay longer,” Lan Xichen said, heart beating wildly, “Your journey is so long and tiring. I want you to feel welcomed here… with me.”
Jiang Cheng stood in disbelief, taking several steps back in shock. This was too much, Lan Xichen was a god. He was not supposed to feel this way for him. Lan Xichen was kind and good, a beacon of generosity. Jiang Cheng was irritable, made mistakes often, and owed his entire life to the god before him. He couldn’t have accomplished what he has on his own. He had nothing to offer the god. He ran, fleeing down the mountain without another word.
Lan Xichen watched the retreating figure. Unconsciously, he raised a hand, wanting to call out after him, call him back to his side. He forced himself to return his hand to his lap. His heart clenched agonizingly. Lan Xichen feared that his feelings would overwhelm Jiang Cheng. But he didn’t expect him to flee so suddenly. He didn’t expect the sword to be thrust so firmly into his chest with the rejection.
It wasn’t until the sun was near setting that Jiang Cheng returned. Lan Xichen was sitting in the same spot as before. His hands trailed idly along the flowers, his face startlingly stoic. The return of the sect leader drew his attention. Jiang Cheng dropped to a bow before Lan Xichen could raise a hand to stop him. Countless words were frozen on Jiang Cheng’s lips, anxiety keeping him quiet.
He had spent the past few hours holed up in the room he had rented at the inn, desperately trying to make heads or tails of the information he had received. Lan Xichen cared for him, deeply it seemed. More so than a god should care for a mortal, especially one as mediocre as himself. But somehow, Lan Xichen had grown fond of the sect leader. He wanted him to feel welcomed atop the mountain, at his side. He put in the effort to ensure that he would feel welcomed. It was foreign to Jiang Cheng. No one had ever loved him in this way. He didn’t hate it, even craved it. He often longed to stay atop the mountain with the god. Many times when he was caring for the lotuses, before he even knew that they were meant for his comfort, he entertained the fantasy of staying there. It was incredibly tempting to stay too. Especially since he still had that melodic laugh ringing in his ears paired with the image of his beautiful smile. He would do anything to hear that laugh again, anything to get him to smile at him once more.
Jiang Cheng wasn’t ready to tell all of this to Lan Xichen. He wasn’t ready to admit that he had been feeling more than just devotion built on gratitude to him. The racing of his heart when he saw him was his secret to keep. And he certainly wasn’t ready to leave behind the life and duties he had in Yunmeng to entertain his fantasies. But he could take a small step. He could do something small to see that glorious smile again. If it was a little selfish...well, he could excuse that.
“I can stay here tonight if you would like,” he offered.
Lan Xichen’s smile was as bright and full as the moon, and his heart felt similarly. “I would like that,” he sighed contentedly.
The two settled into a comfortable silence, sitting side by side watching the lotuses and pine trees sway in the mountain breeze. The silence was only interrupted by Jiang Cheng scowling and saying, “You should learn how to care for the lotuses. They shouldn’t be going a whole month with improper care,” which was followed by a bout of Lan Xichen’s beautiful laughter.