Work Text:
In the recent years, Yunmeng Jiang Clan had once again emerged as one of the five great clans under Sect Leader Jiang Cheng’s exceptional leadership. The formerly massacred sect rose like a phoenix from the ashes—burning bright, unyielding and magnificent. Wealth flowed from the depths of its rivers, and prosperity was bestowed upon the warm, loyal people of Yunmeng.
However, few were willing to respect or even acknowledge such impressive growth, largely because its patriarch, the Sandu Shengshou, was infamous for his fierce temper and sharp tongue. The man was merciless, known to disregard moral boundaries when hunting those who strayed into the heretical path.
He was constantly surrounded by a tide of rumors—for it was easier for the world to see only in black and white, to put down others in order to bolster their own fragile righteousness.
In contrast, the people of Yunmeng loved Sect Leader Jiang fiercely. He was the one who rebuilt their home, he was the one who restored their lives. Even the ghosts and spirits in Yunmeng pledged their loyalty to him.
-
The silvery glimmer of moonlight fell gently upon several figures at the border of the Yunmeng region. Under Jiang Cheng’s command, a handful of Jiang disciples diligently cleared the remnants of their night hunt, purging the lingering resentful energy while Jiang Cheng himself remained beside a white-clad figure who stood still as statue.
Unlike Lan Xichen who was occupied with the affairs of the Gusu Lan sect, the younger jade possessed more freedom in his wandering path. Lan Wangji often appeared in times of need, to help people in eradication of evil spirits, and this time, he had lent them a hand.
“Thank you for the assistance, Hanguang-jun,” Jiang Cheng said, cupping a fist in his palm toward the taller man.
He heard a soft hum in return, and watched Lan Wangji wrap his guqin once again in plain white fabric. His waist-length hair swayed in the wind, and Jiang Cheng was reminded that the usual neat topknot had been undone during the battle. A curtain of smooth, dark hair fell across his shoulders and back, while several stray locks fell forward, obscuring half of his handsome face.
Lan Wangji finished securing the guqin within its protective wrap. He inclined his head in a courteous bow, his voice as cool as the moonlight.
“Jiang-zongzhu is too polite,” he murmured. “Wangji was merely passing through the region. It was my duty to assist. However—”
He lowered his gaze in what appeared to be a rare moment of uncertainty.
“—does Jiang-zongzhu has a spare hair tie? Wangji is troubled by this loose hair.”
Jiang Cheng blinked, then snorted softly. His prickly attitude softened. It was indeed a strange sight to see the famously impeccably groomed Hanguang-jun in such state, even his forehead ribbon seemed to have loosened slightly in the heat of the fray.
“Turn around,” he said, pulling a brand new purple ribbon from his qiankun pouch.
The moment Lan Wangji obediently did as he was told, Jiang Cheng found himself staring at the inked waterfall of hair before him. For a second, he felt as though he had stepped into a tricky situation. Something pricked his consciousness, but he could not figure out exactly what it was. In the end, he shrugged it off and reached for that thick, silky flood of hair, then skillfully tying it into a neat topknot.
The purple silk was certainly an odd sight, considering he was used to seeing only white ribbons adorning the Lan. However, that was the only spare Jiang Cheng had on hand.
"There, it's done. Hanguang-jun should bring a spare tie the next time he goes out," Jiang Cheng suggested in a dry voice.
He heard a soft ‘thank you’ from the older man, but Jiang Cheng offered no reply, simply carrying on with his business without looking back.
Thus, Sect Leader Jiang missed a shadow of smile tugging at the corner of Lan Wangji's lips, and how the younger jade lingered, carefully stroked the purple silk that bound around his topknot.
.fin