Chapter Text
The morning sunlight shone through the window into his eyes. Lotus light kisses tickled his spine. His lover stopped before he reached the sheet that covered his lower body, then it was gone. Bare ass greeted the room, teeth bit his flesh and startled him awake.
“Wei Wuxian, I’m not a dog toy,” he muttered, voice rough from the moaning he did all night.
Wei Wuxian laughed and laid beside him, elbow and hand propped his head up. His smile wide, front teeth longer than the rest. They fit his face now. He remembered how they used to stick out, after his baby teeth fell out and his adult ones grew in.
Wei Wuxian kissed his shoulders, the back of his neck, then his ear.
He leaned out of reach of his mouth; lips tickled his ear. He couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his face and made the hard angles of his cheeks and jaw less severe.
“Morning, ChengCheng,” Wei Wuxian whispered.
His spine tingled, back arched up, a soft groan on his lips, coaxed him to sit up. His long dark hair flowed over his shoulders. Kiss marks bloomed reddish purple along his neck, down his chest, and between his thighs. He grabbed the sheet to cover himself up.
“Wei Wuxian, these marks will take days to heal. I can’t cover this up.”
“Looks like you won’t have much of a wedding night.”
Jiang Cheng glared at him, lips thin and seething.
“I’m sorry.” Wei Wuxian traced the marks from Jiang Cheng’s neck down his chest. Fingers ghosted over a nipple.
“I can’t have you after today. I feel like if I didn’t leave my mark, you’d forget about me once you married up.”
Jiang Cheng grabbed his hand and held it to his chest. “How could I forget the man that made me get rid of my dogs when I was a boy? Or all the times you got me into trouble, because you can’t help being a nuisance. Or that time with the ducks -”
“Didn’t we agree not talk about the ducks again?”
Jiang Cheng snorted. “I didn’t agree to that.”
Wei Wuxian sighed and smiled, melancholy in his expression. “I’ll miss this.”
His thumb brushed against Jiang Cheng’s chest.
Jiang Cheng dropped his gaze. He wouldn’t cry again. Months went by, the time ticked down to this day. They said all they needed to say, kissed all the kisses they could, and shared their warmth and passion in every nook and cranny of Lotus Pier. How they got away with it, he’ll never know.
A knock came at his door. “A-Cheng,” Jiang Yanli called. “We need to get you ready. The procession from GusuLan will be here mid-day.”
She knocked again. “Is A-Xian with you?” she spoke softer for only them to hear.
“I’m here,” Wei Wuxian said. He climbed off the bed, and donned his robes scattered along the floor.
Jiang Cheng followed suit. He only bothered with the inter robe.
After they were dressed, Jiang Yanli came into the room. Her dimpled smile lackluster for his wedding day. She held his face, sorrow in her eyes. They matched.
“The Chief Cultivator is said to be a good man. Righteous. I know he’s not who you want,” she looked at Wei Wuxian, all her love and sorrow expressed to him as well, “but he could be worse.”
He leaned into his sister’s hand. The previous Chief Cultivator and Emperor, Wen Ruohan, razed the land with his fierce corpse soldiers. He sent his son, Wen Chao, to burn down Lotus Pier, where he tortured Jiang Cheng when his parents refused to align themselves with the Wen Sect. The discipline whip scarred him for life, and the one thing that made him worth even a little bit in his father’s eyes got destroyed. Without his golden core he couldn’t be sect heir, so he might as well be a maiden. One worth less than Jiang Yanli, since she had a core. The weakness in its strength didn’t matter. They all would have died that day if not for Wei Wuxian.
“I don’t want righteous. I want a drunkard that sleeps ‘til nine and does wicked tricks,” he said, hand reaching for Wei Wuxian’s.
Wei Wuxian smiled, and held his hand close to his chest. His heart beat steady and familiar. Now he’ll know the heart of a different man.
“You’re marrying into the imperial family. A drunkard with wicked tricks couldn’t compare to the honorable Hanguang-Jun.” Wei Wuxian tried to lighten his mood.
Jiang Cheng pulled his hand away, the barest of fingertips still connected when Wei Wuxian grabbed him back. “I need to get ready.”
The desperation in Wei Wuxian’s grip didn’t take him by surprise. After today, he’d just be someone’s husband and Wei Wuxian inherits the sect as the first senior disciple. Their lives will diverge, and they may never see each other again.
He grabbed the back of Wei Wuxian's neck and kissed him hard and desperate. Arms wrapped around his waist and held him close.
“It's not too late to run away. I know a place in Yiling,” Wei Wuxian whispered, his lips pressed to the corner of his mouth.
“Yiling isn't far enough away.” Jiang Cheng kissed the mole under Wei Wuxian’s lips, the one on his chin, then his cheek, and finally his nose.
“Dongying then.”
He pulled away, thumb pressed on Wei Wuxian's bottom lip. “In our next life we'll marry and live a long happy life together. I promise.”
“A-Xian,” Jiang Yanli called. “A-Cheng needs to get ready. You’ll see him again before he departs.”
Jiang Cheng turned away from Wei Wuxian, not wanting to see his face again, because if he did, he’d buy into running away with him.
Jiang Yanli linked her arm through his. “The bath is ready for you.”
He breathed deep, listened for the door to close, then turned back to his sister. Time to get it over with.
It took several hours to get him cleaned and dressed in black and red wedding robes. He sat on a stool, Jiang Yanli behind him with a comb in hand. Had he been a woman, then it wouldn’t be his sister combing his hair, but a clan elder with a healthy family and a lot of children. The elder would comb his hair four times for longevity, loyalty, children, and good luck. They didn’t stick so close to tradition given the nature of his and his fiancé's gender.
Jiang Yanli combed his hair three times, each stroke slow and gentle like she wanted to stall for time. They didn’t have much left. Any moment now Hanguang-Jun and his procession would be here to whisk him away from the only home he’d never known.
“A-Cheng,” she started. She put down the comb, through with his hair. “I’m sorry you didn’t choose this for yourself. Fuqin wouldn’t have agreed to this if we weren’t in need of help after the Wen attacked. I would have gladly taken your place, but I’m-”
“Already engaged to Jin Zixuan. I know.” He turned around and grabbed her hands. “You love Jin Zixuan, and I would’ve agreed to Hanguang-Jun anyway if it meant you could happy.”
The war and the rebuilding of Lotus Pier stretched the Jiang Sect’s funds thin. Marrying their children into powerful sects, one being the sect of the emperor, ensured the Jiang Sect’s survival.
“I feel like I’ll never see you again, A-Cheng.”
“I know, but you will. I’ll be back in three days to bow to our ancestors and have dinner with the family. I can accompany Hanguang-Jun to Discussion Conferences whenever LanlingJin hosts them. When you have your wedding, you can invite me. Then you’ll have your first born’s one month celebration and I’ll get to meet my niece or nephew. There will be plenty of opportunities to see each other.” Even though he said all of that, he still couldn’t help that her worries weren’t misplaced.
A knock came at the door. “The Lan procession has arrived,” a servant called out.
“Thank you,” Jiang Yanli replied. She turned his head back to the mirror. “Just one more piece left.”
She picked up the comb, pulled his hair up into a bun, then picked up the juebian from the table and placed it on his head. She tied the red straps under his chin, had him stand, double checked his appearance, then smiled.
“A handsome bridegroom for a wedding.”
Out in the courtyard all the disciples stood in two lines awaiting his arrival. At the front of the line stood Wei Wuxian. Beyond the doors stood his parents along with the GusuLan procession. The escorts and his fiancé crowded the dock, and musicians played calming music on the surrounding boats.
His sister trailed down the line beside him, his hands in his sleeves, clinched nervously for the new chapter in his life. He stopped beside Wei Wuxian when he stepped out of line and grabbed his sleeve.
“Here.” Lighting quick, Wei Wuxian snatched Jiang Cheng’s Clarity Bell off his belt, and handed him his own.
Jiang Cheng looked at the bell. Inscriptions covered the lotus leaves.
“What did you do to it?” he asked, clipping the new bell to his belt.
“Warded it. It’s for protection.”
Jiang Cheng swallowed. This would be the first time he left Lotus Pier since before the Wen attacked. Journeying to Gusu would be simple if they could take the river upstream until they arrived in Caiyi Town, but they couldn’t. They would either take another river or take the roads for the Irreversible Route – a different way than the groom traveled to symbolize the marriage being irreversible. The roads could be dangerous, and without a way to protect himself it’ll be the best protection he has beside his fiancé and Gusu disciples.
“And to remember me by,” he whispered the last part.
Jiang Cheng looked down. “As if I could ever forget you.” He wanted to cry. After months of the courting process, he thought his tears dried up long ago. He promised himself that he wouldn’t anymore.
“Wei Wuxian, now’s not the time to talk. Stop being a distraction,” Madam Yu chided.
Wei Wuxian stepped back in line.
No more tears, so he sucked it up, lifted his jaw like his mother would, and set determined eyes forward.
Jiang Cheng continued down the dock.
His parents presented him to his fiancé.
Hanguang-Jun, though the same height as him, seemed taller with his back straight in his matching black and red robes, and juebian. His white sword sheath held in his left hand, he brought his hands together and bowed to Jiang Cheng.
“I am Lan Zhan, courtesy name Wangji, title Hanguang-Jun,” his deep voice bland, he showed no interest in this union. Or rather, his severe expression lent well to his unimpressive personality.
From the betrothal letter, the gift letter, and the wedding letter, Hanguang-Jun sounded much the same, but he hoped formality played a part in his proper and polite self-expression. Jiang Cheng didn’t expect a stiff personality.
Jiang Cheng reciprocated his bow. “I am Jiang Cheng, courtesy name Wanyin.” The awkwardness of not having a title of his own settled in his nerves. He’ll never have one. Forever the Great Hanguang-Jun's husband and nothing more. The tears he held in burned his eyes. Brides were supposed to cry when they left home, but no one ever said if bridegrooms could do so. So much for no more tears.
“Jiang Wanyin may call me Lan Wangji.” Lan Wangji motioned for Jiang Cheng to stand beside him.
Jiang Cheng stood next to Lan Wangji, then they both saluted his parents along with the escorts. Lan Wangji helped him into the boat and under the awning, before he joined him.
They were off. Lotus Pier shrunk on the horizon line, and the whole time Jiang Cheng couldn’t take his eyes off it.