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He wakes up in a cold bed, and ignores the feeling of something missing. Jiang Cheng is merely worried for Lan Xichen. How could anyone not be?
He pulls himself out of bed, moves around the room once, and when no trace of the other man becomes apparent, he panics.
He’s hastily putting on his boots when the door slides and he is face to face with Lan Xichen’s belly button.
They stare at each other awkwardly before Jiang Cheng lets out a curse and jumps back mumbling about nature calling, then rushing out past.
Lan Xichen merely smiles in amusement, pulling the edges of his inner robe closed, resolute not to think of Jiang Cheng’s eyes at the level of his…
Definitely not going there!
The tea he pours to calm his nerves helps, and soon he is breathing normally again.
It feels offensive for his heart to beat, without causing him grief.
It takes him a moment to realise that he hasn’t felt grief in a good few hours.
It takes him less than that to understand why that is, and he sinks his head to the table cursing himself.
Good friend, trusted ally. Good friend trusted ally. Good friend, trusted ally!
Maybe he can hypnotise himself into believing he’s not attracted to the other clan leader.
Jiang Cheng picks that moment to walk through the door again.
Maybe pigs can yet learn to sprout wings.
The man’s hair is messily tied up. There are still sleep lines on his face, but he seems calmer.
He throws himself down unceremoniously.
“Thanks for making tea.” He murmurs uncharacteristically.
He reaches for the teapot, but Xichen already has his hand on it.
They stare at each other awkwardly once again.
“Please let me pour…”
“I didn’t mean to see your belly button!”
They both stop.
“What?”
“What?”
Jiang Cheng waves him away:
“I can pour for myself, it’s fine.”
Lan Xichen takes a moment to respond, but when he does his voice is low.
“I’m sorry for not being more careful in how I tie my sleeping robe.”
Jiang Cheng sputters.
“Seriously?”
Lan Xichen merely fixes him with a dispassionate stare.
“I wasn’t trying to seduce you, if that’s what you thought.”
Jiang Cheng’s face darkens.
He grabs the other man by the wrist and pulls him up, heedless of the table between them.
“That’s it. Out!”
He drags the other man outside, despite the considerable effort opposing him.
“You can’t kick me out of my own house, clan leader Jiang.”
“I’m kicking you out of reclusion, you muppet.” Letting go of the man’s hand he spins around to face him. “Now come at me.”
“I won’t.”
Zidian sparks ominously.
“We’re getting the grief out of you, because you’ve definitely gone loopy.”
Lan Xichen is offended.
“How dare you?”
“How dare you?” retorts Jiang Cheng.
“You have no idea what I’m dealing with!”
“Betrayal by a loved one, loss of faith in humanity, general malaise, a sense of failure at life, and a distrust of yourself so bad you wish you could stop yourself existing.” Jiang Cheng intones flatly.
Lan Xichen feels slapped.
“What, did I miss anything?”
The punch happens without him having awareness of thinking of it, grazing the other man’s cheek.
“Good to know you can still hit. Let’s see you block.”
Lan Xichen tries again, but still barely gets there. He has always been better at swordsmanship than hand-to-hand.
“Getting soft in your old age, Zewu-Jun!” taunts Jiang Cheng.
Xichen is becoming aggravated. There is something in him he thought hollow, but it’s on fire right now. It demands sacrifice. It demands violence. It demands blood.
Jiang Cheng flits here and there, teasing him with barely charged punches that largely miss.
“Do not patronise me!”
“No such thing. I just don’t want to hit someone when they’re down.”
“You couldn't hit me if I were flat on the ground!”, he responds tartly, lunging.
Jiang Cheng grins:
“I don’t want to be hit by someone that has the consistency of a noodle.”
Lan Xichen swerves to grab a nearby branch, and deftly repurposes it into a sword.
“So all that flavourless porridge is how you cultivated this fighting style right? Explains a lot.”
With a sword Lan Xichen is graceful. He remembers his steps, puts distance between them, tries to put space between his thoughts. The fire burns worse.
“So, what’ll be Zewu-jun? You gonna keep hiding? Wallowing in self-pity?” Zidian lazily touches his shoulder adding injury to his insult.
“You shut up.”
“Make me!”
They charge again, parrying each other’s attacks, throwing themselves furiously against the other’s spiritual power.
“It’s amazing what you can do with spiritual power, huh? I can’t imagine why you’d ever turn it off.”
Lan Xichen sees red.
He launches himself forward. Jin Guangyao’s fingers linger on all the acupuncture points. He wants to crawl out of his skin.
“Shut up! You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know enough.”
“You don’t know!”
His vision blurs.
“You don’t know anythinganythinganythinganythinganythinganythinganythinganything!” the growl from his throat is eery, inhuman.
His aura is filled with resentment. He attacks sharply, forcefully, screaming.
“I tried…I didn’t… I trusted…he lied! He lied. He lied!!!!” There is a moment where he looks absolutely shattered before his face turns back into a mask of rage: “How could you?! I loved you and you…and you…and Qin Su…and Mingjue!!! How could… why?”
He is heaving now but continues attacking.
“You could have killed me! You should have killed me! You left me…you…and…I…for years and years…I loved…shared…and you…!” He is shaking now. The images in his head clear before his eyes. The subtle gazes to Qin Su. The occasional glares towards Mingjue. The curl of his lips while he played the song that he himself had taught him. How he had thought the smile was at the progress on the instrument, not at…at…
There is a storm inside him. Outside him? He isn’t sure, but he is in Jin Guangyao’s arms again.
This time he will not part from him. This time Mingjue can end them both. It is the correct choice.
It is justice.
Instead the other man pushes him out of the way and he has to witness the gruesome death again.
The last words to him had been…had been…about never wishing to harm him.
They burn. They feel like hot rocks in his gut. In his throat. In his heart. In his veins.
“You never wished me harm! Never wished me…never…wished me…and I…”
The ground is somehow closer now. He heaves and heaves, but all that escapes him is bile.
“… you cursed me to a fate worse than death. What do I do? Why let me live when you killed everything in me? Why not take my life too? Was I not good enough for you to kill ? Was I only good to be your puppet? Your bed warmer? Your shield against the consequences of your actions?”
Jiang Cheng knows he’s hit a nerve when Lan Xichen drops the mask and attacks wildly.
“Shut up! You don’t know anything about me!”
“I know enough.” Jiang Chen is a younger brother after all. Getting under people’s skin is what he does best.
“You don’t know”, Xichen grazes his shoulder.
Jiang Cheng might allow him to land a punch, to help him rebalance.
Instead the sound that leaves Lan Xichen’s throat is inhuman.
He curls up heaving. Words escape his lips like a torrent. He’s screaming, and crying, and Jiang Cheng realizes just how much more damage Jin Guangyao has done than he’d previously thought.
He drops carefully by the other man, and grips his shoulders.
Lan Xichen is still breathing heavily, eyes unfocused.
There are tears running down his face, and he looks frail. Jiang Cheng knows little about romance, but he knows about loss and betrayal.
More gently than he has ever thought himself capable, he raises Lan Xichen’s face to meet his eyes.
“You live. You forgive yourself.”
The other man doesn’t respond.
Jiang Cheng takes him into his arms.
“I see you. I believe you. You didn’t deserve any of that. I’m sorry.”
In his mind he can see his younger self who had been punishing himself for his perceived failures. The image gives him the courage to continue.
“Live. Grieve. Heal. Lan Xichen is a good man. I believe in him...we all do.”
The words undo a torrent of sobs. Jiang Cheng kneels there, letting the other man cry, squeezing him periodically.
I’m still here. I see you. I believe you. You didn’t deserve that.
There is something in the energy of his core that is flickering, reaching.
He lets it flow where it will, amazed when it reaches through his hands and slides through Lan Xichen’s hair.
The other man shivers, but doesn’t let go. His cries soften.
The energy that is flowing forth seems to be eagerly absorbed.
Jiang Cheng never really understood how energy was meant to work, but if it helps Lan Xichen that’s good enough.
It is a while before Lan Xichen’s breathing returns to normal.
It is an even longer while before he stirs and tries to pull away.
Before he lets go, Jiang Cheng offers a bit of resistance.
“If you think you’ve offended, don’t.”
Lan Xichen shakes his head and pulls away successfully, this time.
He is sallow, there are red spots under his eyes. There are tear tracks and he looks like a mess, but for the first time in a long time, his eyes are clear of shadows.
“Thank you.” He manages, although his voice is shaky.
Jiang Cheng shrugs.
“Sometimes a good cry is all you need.”
Lan Xichen reaches out to take his hand, bowing to press his forehead against it.
“Thank you!” he intones seriously, flustering the other man.
“S’ fine. You needed it.”
“I did.” Lan Xichen raises his eyes, offering a soft smile.
“I bet you’re sad you don’t have better food here after working up an appetite like that!”
Lan Xichen startles for a moment then begins laughing.
He laughs and laughs until the other man joins him.
“You…might be on to something there, Jiang Wanyin.”
“Why make Emperor’s Smile in Gusu if you’re not going to use it?”
Lan Xichen nods thoughtfully.
“You are absolutely correct.” He pauses for a moment. “Take me to the nearest tavern, and let us drink our woes away.”
Jiang Cheng sputters in surprise.
“Now…you just had a difficult moment. Shouldn’t we get you back, wash you up, feed you, before you make such decisions?”
“It’s because I had a difficult moment that I would like to be drunk out of my mind right now.” He pauses, then adds as an afterthought “…and not worry about Wangji barging in.”
“He’s going to kill me if anything happens to you, you know?”
Lan Xichen smiles broadly:
“I guess you’re just going to have to protect me like the treasure I am.”
Jiang Cheng sputters more.
“Let’s go to Yunmeng. That way you don’t have to worry about my brother, and I don’t have to worry about being seen gone in my cups.”
It makes sense. Truthfully, Jiang Cheng can only think it a good thing. It shows a willingness to keep going. And who is he to judge how Lan Xichen manages his heart?
“Ok, but you’re leaving a note making it clear that you left willingly. I don’t need to have Lotus Pier attacked because your brother thinks I kidnapped you.”
“Oh no note will be needed.”
Jiang Cheng frowns.
Lan Xichen taps his nose, then turns away picking up a stick and throwing it at a random bush.
A startled Wei Wu Xian jumps out and not one minute later follows Lan Zhan, looking frustrated.
“Now that I’ve got both your attention…” begins Lan Xichen “I’m leaving for a bit. I’ll borrow your brother and Lotus Pier. Don’t search for us. I’ll be back when I’m good and ready.”
Then he turns happily towards Jiang Cheng:
“Ok. I’m ready!” Shuoyue makes its appearance, raring to go. Tied to its hilt is Lan Xichen’s flute.
“Brother…”
Lan Xichen meets the other’s eyes.
“Didi.” He says warmly.
Lan Zhan’s eyes widen, then he offers a bow.
Both Jiang Cheng and Wei Wu Xian sputter so similarly they look more like twins than the Lan Jades.
Lan Xichen jumps on his sword, puts Liebing at his hip and readies himself for the sword to lift.
Jiang Cheng shakes his head, then jumps on his own sword.
They leave behind a confused Wei Wu Xian, and a softly happy Lan Wangji.
Larchangel Sun 26 Oct 2025 11:54AM UTC
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CShuy Sat 13 Dec 2025 05:55PM UTC
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