Chapter Text
A young man gazed out into the bustling streets of Yunmeng, cheek resting against his hand. A dark wine jar was grasped languidly in the other, around three-fourths empty. From the high balcony where he sat, there was much to see, but his silvery eyes remained adrift, lips parting as if he were in a daydream.
In the pavilion behind him, lovely maidens were scattered inside like petals, surrounded by piles of bright blooms.
“Did you know?” Came a soft, high voice. “Each flower has its own meaning!”
“Meaning?” A chorus of curious maidens asked.
“En! Like this purple magnolia. If I were to toss it towards a gentleman, it would confess for me—I’ve fallen for your charm and temperament!”
Peals of laughter rang out, the ‘voice’ of the flower having been a swooning, pitchy thing. Another maiden asked, her tone smooth and gentle. “What about this one? It’s a peony, isn’t it?”
There was a faint rustle of silk sleeves, as if she were gesturing towards something.
“Oh, this one…” The original speaker seemed a little hesitant, “In flower language, the peony says, unwilling to part, my sincerity everlasting. That’s why it has another name—the farewell blossom.”
Hearing this, Wei Wuxian’s fingers curled tightly around the neck of the wine jar, a hint of irritation in his heart. It seemed almost mocking, then, that the flower that had been taken from him on Phoenix Mountain was a peony.
And what exactly had he received in return?
As the girls dissolved into murmured conversation—the longing, the romance of it all!—occasionally asking about the meanings of their various flowers again, Wei Wuxian finally turned to look inside the pavilion. That knowledgeable maiden was crowded on all sides, presented with flowers left and right, her red sleeves clashing with the rainbow of colours.
“What about orchids?” Wei Wuxian called out. The girls fell quiet, turning their attention to him with interested eyes.
Since they had settled in this inn for the day, their master had kept to himself, drinking quietly by the balcony. He had only ever opened his mouth to either sigh or call for more wine.
“Orchids?” A young girl dressed in pale green piped up, tilting her head. The ornaments in her double-buns swayed with the movement. “Oh, I know that one! Don’t they represent elegance?”
Another lady spoke, sniffing as she snapped open a fan to chase off the warmth of the sun, “Not merely elegance, but admiration and friendship.”
Wei Wuxian froze, then made a face. The now-empty wine jar was set down firmly. “Friendship…?”
The red-robed maiden gave both of the speakers an amused glance, before turning back to him. “Aiya, the meaning depends on the colour! Wei-gongzi, what type of orchids did you receive?”
Idly, he looked away from her, flicking a finger against the table, “Ah? They were purple.”
He knew the colour well. Wei Wuxian had worried that pressing the flower would cause the vibrant gradient of the petals to fade. In the end, he pressed it first in the interest of time, and in the next few days, he created a talisman to ensure the colours remained as vivid as they were in life.
A red sleeve rose to cover her painted lips as the maiden swooned prettily. “I love you, deeply and sincerely. How romantic, Wei-gongzi!”
Wei Wuxian spluttered, his hand spasming. The empty wine jar tipped over with a clink.
“Not just that! It also means ‘wishing for happiness’, that is, the hope of marriage!”
“M-marriage?!”
“The petals of the orchid blooms dance in the wind, as adorable and lively as our Wei-gongzi! My, what a tasteful admirer he has!”
The girls were up in a frenzy now, tittering and fluttering about the tea table like butterflies. Wei Wuxian immediately grabbed for more wine, the liquid sloshing wildly, and swatted at them.
“You—all of you! Enough!” He cried helplessly.
It was no use.
Suddenly, the bustling of the street outside seemed to become subdued, as if a hush had swept over the people below. The breeze brought along admiring whispers to Wei Wuxian’s ears, and he rose from the table, hurrying over to the very edge of the balcony. The girls, having noticed his abrupt change in mood, followed along behind him to peek over the railing.
At the very end of the street, gliding towards their direction like an immortal, was a brilliant young man clad in white. With a silver sword at his side at a qin on his back, the air of frost around him was barely smoothed out by the tails of the forehead ribbon that slid through his dark hair, caressed by the wind. Simply put, he was a beauty, his very features carved artfully from pale jade.
The many cultivators that roamed around seemed to be quelled by his very presence, parting around him with the ease of water and quiet greetings of Hanguang-jun.
“Lan Zhan…” Wei Wuxian murmured, eyes fixed on that slender figure. What was he doing here in Yunmeng?
Could it be…
After a moment, he huffed, drawing back from the edge to turn to the girls. “Didn’t you ask me to find a handsome gentleman you could toss flowers to?”
The lady with the fan shot him a sharp look. “Hm?”
They hadn’t realised that Wei Wuxian had actually been listening to their teasing—at the question, he had simply hummed in response.
A slight smirk tugged at his lips. “Here comes one. Hanguang-jun.”
“Who’s that?”
As the girls gathered closer to him, Wei Wuxian nodded pointedly towards that outstanding figure on the street. “The one in mourning clothes with the qin on his back, who is the most attractive of anyone down there.”
Upon catching sight of Lan Wangji, the younger ones eagerly swept up their flowers by the basketful, giggling as they raced downstairs. The few maidens left behind smiled at the antics and began cleaning up the fallen petals.
There was a peony by the corner of Wei Wuxian’s table. He picked it up, looking towards the street again, and spoke to the red-robed maiden.
“Say, are there any flowers to scold scoundrels that eat tofu and run?” He asked lightly.
She stared at him dumbly for a moment, then burst into laughter, sleeves coming up again. “Wei-gongzi, men like that simply don’t get any flowers!”
“Hmph.” The peony was tossed into a spare basket.
It had an inauspicious meaning anyway.
Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but draw closer to the edge again, jar in hand, sprawling onto the red-lacquered divan that looked over the balcony to watch the show.
Lan Wangji had already made his way in front of the inn, where he was being accosted by a shower of blossoms. The girls ran past one-by-one, and Lan Wangji, rather guilelessly, simply caught the flowers as they were thrown at him. His expression was as impassive as ever.
From here, Wei Wuxian could only catch a glimpse of those downturned eyes, surely bright with embarrassment. There was a sudden itch in his heart. They were but one storey apart—when would Lan Wangji look at him?
He leaned dangerously far over the balcony, as if trying to drop onto the person below.
“Lan—” Wei Wuxian began to call, but faltered halfway through the name. Clearing his throat swiftly, he tried again, this time with confidence.
“Ah, Hanguang-jun! What a coincidence!”
It came out sounding more like a loud question.
Wei Wuxian wanted to fall off the balcony.
On second thought, maybe not.
Lan Wangji turned to look up at Wei Wuxian. The latter’s slim figure draped halfway off the railing, swaying gracefully as he admired Hanguang-jun bedecked in blossoms. Those golden eyes of his pierced through the gauzy curtains of the upper pavilion, tracing from the liquor jar dangling from his fingertips up to meet Wei Wuxian’s gaze.
Wei Wuxian’s gaze, which was most likely embarrassingly open.
Just as he decided to stop playing cool and lug his arms back over the railing before he toppled over and made an even bigger fool of himself, Lan Wangji said, “Wei Ying.”
It was but a quiet call of his name, but the simple words seem to carry the fragrance of flowers as they landed softly where Wei Wuxian lounged. He shivered, unable to turn away.
Instead, he swirled the wine jar over the balcony. The liquid glinted in the sunlight.
“Lan Zhan, would you come up for a drink?”
Heavens. He’d meant to tease, but why did he sound so damn desperate?!
The white-robed figure remained still, even as the girls leaned down and giggled, echoing his words, “Gongzi, come! Just one drink!”
…Which mitigated his failure somewhat. Ah, nothing like pretty admirers to smooth things over.
A tiny crease had appeared between Lan Wangji’s brows when Wei Wuxian finally glanced at him again. With a swirl of his long sleeves, he stepped away and left, taking the flowers with him.
Wei Wuxian really did almost fall off this time.
The girls tittered, leaving the balcony and descending the stairs, no doubt to give chase.
Wei Wuxian muttered to himself as he rolled off the divan and stepped back into the room proper. Falling on his ass, he gulped down some wine and pressed a hand to his chest. Of course Lan Wangji wouldn’t want to… what, look at him? Pretend to drink with him?
He dropped his head on his arms, knocking against the hard wood.
It was only when Wei Wuxian heard even footsteps that could only belong to one person coming up the stairs that he realised the girls had not returned.
What! Where did they go? He thought, hastily straightening up as trepidation shot through him. He considered calling them back, but it was too late. I need witnesses, otherwise who knows what Hanguang-jun will do this time to this unsuspecting one…!
Another mouthful of wine disappeared down his throat at the thought.
…Alright.
He wasn’t at all unsuspecting.
The ‘suspicions’ had, in fact, been a prominent feature in his dreams the last two months.
It had been humiliating, if only to himself, the way his mind mooned over Hanguang-jun like an absolute deviant. Those strong hands, those slender fingers, that lithe waist…It was almost a blessing that he’d been blindfolded, otherwise those forbidden fantasies would have actually been inescapable.
Truly, was Wei Wuxian a pubescent teenager, to still be going through that kind of thing on the regular?
Spring dreams? It was almost winter, thank you very much!!
This train of not-quite-panic was abruptly cut off as snow-white boots descended on the final level of the stairs.
The figure of Lan Wangji moved closer, his posture elegant, his very steps exuding an alluring quality. Lowering his head, he seemed almost demure as he parted the bejewelled curtains with a meticulous sweep of the arm. The beads slid like water off the long lines of his shoulders and waist. Those dark, downturned eyelashes came into view as he stepped through, the curtains clinking gently as if to announce his arrival.
Watching him, Wei Wuxian could barely think. Had Lan Wangji always been this mesmerising?
Upon straightening, the young man was as upright as a pine, dignified and ethereal as a crane. He was a vision in white, pure and untouched in this gaudy place.
Hah!
The overpowering scent of flowers made Wei Wuxian feel a little faint. Lan Wangji was only untouched because he was the one who had been doing the touching!
After the briefest second of hesitation, Lan Wangji sank down into the seat opposite Wei Wuxian, placing the flowers that he had been showered with down onto the table.
“Your flowers.” His voice was smooth and low, yet melodic enough to elicit a shiver.
Although Lan Wangji looked as austere as ever, his gaze seemed ever-so-slightly offset. Wei Wuxian reminded himself that there was no need for the fluttering in his own stomach—wasn’t it only natural that Lan Wangji was the one to act strangely in this situation?
“So courteous, Hanguang-jun! But these are yours now.”
He nudged a magnolia blossom over the table, back to Lan Wangji, who glanced down at the movement. Wei Wuxian took a chance.
“After all, aren’t you quite fond of flowers?”
…Definitely not his best work.
A beat of silence. Lan Wangji seemed to have stopped breathing. Wei Wuxian, too, was holding his breath.
“Mn.” That jade-like countenance remained impassive.
He disguised the sigh that rushed out of him with a cough. That was it?
“Aiya, Lan Zhan, don’t be so stiff and have some wine! Here.”
Wei Wuxian took his own jar and poured a good amount into one of the unused wine cups. The sun outside hid behind the clouds at the expression on Lan Wangji’s face, casting a brief shadow through the pavilion.
“Alcohol is prohibited.”
You know what else is definitely prohibited? Wei Wuxian wanted to retort. Running around and randomly deflowering demonic cultivators! But that didn’t stop you, did it?!
“...In the Cloud Recesses. Lan Zhan, you finally came to Yunmeng, and you won’t even try a sip? I know our best liquor can’t compare to your Emperor’s Smile in Gusu, but it shouldn’t affect your experience. Won’t you trust my judgement? You of all people should know how experienced I am with alcohol, Hanguang-jun~”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Wei Wuxian frantically tried to remember if he’d actually let slip something about that state of his experience—or lack thereof—the last time they met. He hadn’t, right?
Finally, Lan Wangji’s gaze shifted to meet Wei Wuxian’s own, regarding him almost curiously, like he could see right through Wei Wuxian’s facade and wasn’t sure what to feel about it. After a moment, he began to rise, as if to leave.
Was he actually scared off by such a little thing?!
Hastily, Wei Wuxian called out, “Hey, hey, don’t go, you already came up so won’t you…”
He trailed off as he watched Lan Wangji take the long-neglected teapot from another small table, bringing it back to theirs. He peeked through lowered lashes at Wei Wuxian, then opened up the pot, confirming that there was liquid inside.
“Wei Ying.” He said calmly, as if he hadn’t just pinched Wei Wuxian’s heart with one movement and not a single word. “I will accompany you.”
Saying this, Lan Wangji poured himself a cup—which was definitely cold. That didn’t deter him as he raised it and took a small sip.
Wei Wuxian watched rapturously as his pale throat bobbed with the motion, the slender line of his neck interrupted by his high collars.
Catching himself, he made to take another long gulp of liquor, before the jar suddenly disappeared from his grasp. Wei Wuxian blinked slowly as Lan Wangji took another small cup and filled it with wine, an echo of Wei Wuxian’s regard, placing it gently before him.
The liquid barely rippled.
“Drink slower.” He intoned quietly, eyes fixed on the cup. “Have you eaten?”
…What the hell was he doing?
The back of Wei Wuxian’s neck prickled with heat. Pouring him such a measly amount—did he intend to wait on Wei Wuxian’s every sip? Was Lan Wangji’s guilty conscience coming out to play?
The moment he had heard the whispers of Hanguang-jun from the balcony, his whole person had been set alight. The tightness in his chest and the dryness in his throat were a result of the rush of heat that had swept through him, lewd memories of the last time they had been together gripping him with full force.
So Wei Wuxian had scrambled, jumping at the chance to finally enact his revenge on Lan Wangji, consumed by the flame that had bloomed between the both of them.
But now, the way Lan Zhan was acting reminded him of the aftermath; of chaste, earnest kisses, the sting of the breeze against his eyes, the ache of disappointment in his gut—and that pretty flower. It reminded Wei Wuxian of those soft, domestic dreams that he would awaken from, yearning for warmth, something bittersweet on his tongue.
It wasn’t fair. How could he manipulate not only Wei Wuxian’s body so skillfully, but also his heart? What Second Jade of Lan, pure as moonlight? He certainly seemed well-practiced enough.
“I ate.” Wei Wuxian lied.
Finally, a hint of Lan Wangji’s old exasperation seemed to return as he looked askance at him, silent.
Wei Wuxian decided not to dismantle his dignity further by trying to prove it, instead saying, “Ah, Lan Zhan, what brings you to Yunmeng anyways? Could it be that you wanted to visit little old me?” The corners of his lips drew up, teasing, despite the twinge in his heart.
Sitting primly, hands folded neatly and back straight as a board, it was almost unfathomable that Lan Wangji could be the man who had taken him so roughly and passionately against that tree on Phoenix Mountain.
“Passing through on a night hunt.” Even his voice betrayed nothing.
This was getting nowhere.
What exactly did Wei Wuxian want to do here?
“Lan Zhan, I’m…” He reached out, nudging the lonely magnolia on the table again until it toppled into Lan Wangji’s lap. “I’m hurt.”
As Lan Wangji began to set the flower back in place, his golden eyes widened at those unusually pitiful words.
Got you, Wei Wuxian thought eagerly. As quick as lightning, his fingers brushed against Lan Wangji’s warm hand, a kiss of skin on skin. They stayed there as the other man froze.
It was quiet.
The gauzy drapes hung still, colouring the sunlight of late noon that dappled into the pavilion. The world outside was one hazy layer away, the bustling of the streets dulling at this time.
When Lan Wangji remained motionless, Wei Wuxian took the liberty he was given and slowly laced their fingers together, a burst of satisfaction thrumming through his veins.
“Lan Zhan,” He continued casually, deceptively innocent, “Where’d you get the orchids from?”
The hand in his grip trembled.
Wei Wuxian’s gaze was trained on Lan Wangji’s face. Despite his stony expression, his lips had parted ever so slightly. Behind his hair, Wei Wuxian caught a tinge of pink on his earlobes.
His nerves were almost forgotten. He was fascinated.
It took a long moment before he received a reply.
“During the hunt, I…picked it.” Lan Wangji’s voice was softer than usual, a little hesitant. He still didn’t dare look Wei Wuxian in the eye. His hand remained unsteady, trembling exactly like that ‘maiden’ had during their first kiss.
A certain breathlessness suddenly washed over him.
So, before Lan Wangji had found him lounging in that tree, he had perused the flowers, thinking of Wei Wuxian? Wei Wuxian, the impudent demonic cultivator who was practically the bane of his rule-clad existence, who had been a perpetual thorn in his side since their very first meeting under the moonlight?
On that jade-like face, those thin lips were pursed, and the curve of Lan Wangji’s slender brows were almost aggrieved—bordering on bullied. It was a good look. Gripped with a burning curiosity, Wei Wuxian wanted to see how far he could go, until that expression matched the one that he hadn’t gotten to see while Lan Wangji had plundered him.
“I liked it—” Lan Wangji seemed to jolt minutely. “That flower. Purple orchids…do you know what they mean, Lan Zhan?”
Instead of answering, the delicate fingers in Wei Wuxian’s grasp curled around him, restrained. Wei Wuxian smoothed a thumb over them, swallowing dryly before he opened his mouth again.
Despite how shameless he was, Wei Wuxian didn’t know if he wanted Lan Wangji to get the wrong idea or not.
“I love you—deeply and sincerely.”