Chapter Text
The night stretched vast and endless above him, a sea of indigo silk scattered with stars, their light pale and shimmering like scattered pearls. The moon hung high, a quiet, luminous witness to his petty grievances.
Wei Wuxian sighed dramatically, kicking a loose pebble as he trudged through the quiet courtyards of the Cloud Recesses. Getting kicked out of an inn was nothing new—he had been through worse. But this time? This time, it really stung.
They had arrived at the gates together, drenched from the rain, only for the guards to demand proof of their invitation. Jiang Cheng had shot him a glare—where’s the letter, Wei Wuxian?—and his shijie had given him that soft, disappointed look that always made his stomach twist.
Of course, he had been the one carrying their supplies. He had been the one stuck juggling everything while Jiang Cheng barked orders and their shijie tried to smooth things over. The one who’d scrambled to pack up in a hurry after that stupid Peacock showed up and kicked them out of their rooms. And of course, somewhere between all the fussing and adjusting, their precious invitation had been left behind.
So, being the good, responsible disciple he was, he had run back down the mountain, slipping and sliding through mud and roots, all to retrieve the damn thing. By the time he made it back, hair soaked, robes clinging uncomfortably to his skin, ready to wave the scroll in triumph—
There was no one waiting for him when he returned.
It appeared that Jiang Cheng and his shijie had been let in without him.
Just like that.
Apparently, the Lan who were watching the entryway had decided to be reasonable after all, which would have been great, except now, he was the one stuck outside like a stray dog.
He shuddered at the comparison.
Had the oh so strict Lan Wangji decided it was in the Lan sect’s best interest to let them in anyways?
Wei Wuxian let out an exaggerated groan, running a hand through his damp hair. Absolutely ridiculous.
He would get in himself, if no one was going to let him in. Even with the stupid invitation.
The wards were frighteningly easy to dismantle enough to slip through. If he cared enough, he’d bring it to their attention. But he didn’t. He felt petty like that.
It was still early, far too early to sleep, and he knew Jiang Cheng would pitch a fit if he disturbed him by staying awake reading. So, he decided to entertain himself.
And what better way to do that than by climbing the highest rooftop he could find?
A few nimble steps, a careful grip on the cool tiles, and he was up. The night air rushed around him, crisp and clean, tinged with the faint scent of pine and parchment. The view stretched out before him, a dream of pale rooftops and distant mountains. He sat back, letting the wind tug at his robes, exhaling slowly.
From up here, he could almost pretend he was alone in the world, just him and the quiet hush of moonlight.
But even solitude was better with a drink.
He pulled out the small flask he had tucked away in his robes, the liquor burning smooth and familiar as he tipped his head back to drink. The Lan Sect’s rules about alcohol were ridiculous—what was a little wine under the stars? A little indulgence to soothe the sting of abandonment?
He had barely taken another sip when a voice cut through the night, steady and filled with disapproval.
"You are breaking several rules."
Wei Wuxian turned, lowering the flask just slightly.
The one who could only be the Second Jade of the Lan, Lan Wangji, stood poised on the rooftop, every inch of him a study in effortless grace and rigid propriety. White robes gleamed like frost-kissed silk, his forehead ribbon catching the moonlight like a whisper of silver. His long, dark hair, unbound at the ends, swayed faintly with the night breeze.
The same one who had so callously denied him entry before, clearly come back to gloat.
"You have broken in. Do not stay up past Hanshi. Do not drink alcohol. Get down,” Lan Wangji said, giving him a look of disdain.
Wei Wuxian arched a brow, fighting back a grin. "So many rules, Lan Zhan. Are you always this fun at night?"
Lan Wangji’s expression didn’t shift, but the weight of his gaze was a force in itself.
"You are trespassing."
Wei Wuxian took another leisurely sip, licking a stray drop from his lips as he let his eyes wander over Lan Wangji’s impossibly perfect form. "You say that like you don’t want me here. I have the invitation that you wanted, see?"
He pulled the piece of paper from his robes and waved it in front of Lan Wangji so the man could see it with his own two eyes. He was invited!
Lan Wangji’s lips pressed into a thin line. "I do not. It is past curfew. Wei Wuxian should have waited until the morning."
“But it’s so cold outside,” he said, looking at Lan Wangji with a small pout, “What if I froze and died out there? Would that make you happy?”
Lan Wangji didn’t deem that worthy of a response.
Wei Wuxian tilted his head, studying him. There was something too still about the way Lan Wangji held himself, something caught between duty and hesitation.
"Well, if I’m already breaking so many rules," Wei Wuxian mused, shifting forward on the tiles, deciding he may as well have a bit of fun, "What’s one more?"
Then the tile beneath his foot shifted.
He barely had time to curse before he was slipping, the rooftop tilting under him, the wind rushing past—
And then, strong hands grabbed a hold of him.
Wei Wuxian gasped as he was caught mid-fall, firm arms locking around his waist, pulling him against an unyielding chest.
The breath fled from his lungs, not just from the fall, but from the sheer, stunning nearness of Lan Wangji.
Their faces were impossibly close. Moonlight traced every perfect feature, sharp jaw, smooth skin, the way his lips parted slightly as if he, too, was caught in the moment. His eyes, molten gold and utterly piercing, held Wei Wuxian in place more than his hands did.
Wei Wuxian’s breath hitched. His pulse stuttered in his veins.
Lan Wangji smelled of sandalwood and ink, of something cool and impossibly steady. The warmth of his hands burned through Wei Wuxian’s damp robes, solid and inescapable.
He had met many people in his life, had laughed in the face of trouble and teased his way out of countless situations.
But standing there, held in Lan Wangji’s arms, he could think only one thing.
This was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen.
Lan Wangji exhaled, his grip still firm. "Reckless."
Wei Wuxian swallowed, his grin returning, softer this time. "Good thing you were here to catch me, huh?"
For one long, weightless moment, neither of them moved. The night stretched around them, silent, endless, cradling the fragile spark between them.
Wei Wuxian’s heart pounded in his chest, loud and unrelenting as he realized just how close they were. He could feel the warmth of Lan Wangji’s body through the thin fabric of his robes, the strength in his arms holding him steady, and he could smell him—something crisp, like fresh snow or mountain air, something that felt like it belonged in a world far too perfect for someone like him.
He wanted to stay there forever, just like this. In Lan Wangji’s arms, feeling the cool night air and the warmth of his body, with the moonlight painting everything in silver. But, of course, that wasn’t possible. Nothing this beautiful was ever meant to last.
And then, as if to solidify that fact, Lan Wangji’s hands—strong, sure—released their hold on him.
Wei Wuxian’s breath caught in his throat as he was suddenly dropped to the ground, the impact jarring through his body, though his mind was still reeling from the sensation of being in Lan Wangji’s arms.
"Be more careful," Lan Wangji said coolly, his gaze fixed on Wei Wuxian as he took a step back, his posture still poised, untouched by the earlier moment.
Wei Wuxian blinked, his head spinning, his breath still shallow. His hands pressed to the ground for support as he slowly stood, eyes fixed on the man before him. He couldn’t help the rush of heat that flooded his face—how could he not feel something after all that? After being so close to someone who seemed to belong in the heavens themselves?
He wanted to say something clever, something that would make this moment feel less absurd. Less embarrassing for him in the face of it all.
But all that came out was a half-laugh, a breathless, "Thanks for catching me. I guess I’m not as graceful as I thought. Not that anyone has ever said I’m graceful."
Lan Wangji didn’t respond. His eyes, golden and cold, merely assessed him for a moment before he turned, his robes swaying like a silent gust of wind, and began to walk away.
Wei Wuxian couldn’t breathe for a moment. His heart still raced from the sudden drop, from the wildness of everything, from the brief touch of Lan Wangji’s hands. And now, as Lan Wangji walked away, his form receding into the darkness, something inside Wei Wuxian twisted painfully.
This was ridiculous.
He had only just met him. Truly met him beyond their brief, brief, interaction earlier. He couldn’t possibly be—this—he couldn’t possibly have fallen for him, right?
But as the distance grew between them, a strange sense of longing rose within Wei Wuxian. His fingers curled at his sides, as though aching for something he couldn’t have. He wanted to be near Lan Wangji again. He wanted to feel that spark, that electric sensation, just once more.
"Wait," Wei Wuxian blurted before he could stop himself, his voice hoarse. He pushed himself to his feet, following after Lan Wangji, his heart louder in his chest than ever before. "You can’t just—"
Lan Wangji stopped mid-step, his back still turned to him.
The silence stretched.
Without looking back, Lan Wangji’s voice cut through the night air,
Wei Wuxian hesitated. His fingers twitched, his lips parted as if to say something more, but the words felt like they were trapped behind an invisible wall.
He didn’t know why he was still standing here, why his heart ached with something he couldn’t define. But everything about Lan Wangji, the way he looked, the way he moved, the way he had caught him, had carved itself into his chest, and now it hurt in a way that made no sense.
Lan Wangji was untouchable, unreachable, and that only made the yearning worse. He would never look at him the way Wei Wuxian looked at him. He would never see him the way Wei Wuxian wanted to be seen.
But still, he couldn’t tear his gaze away.
He opened his mouth again, but the words faltered. All he could do was stare, helplessly lost in the quiet perfection of Lan Wangji’s presence.
And then, finally, with a soft sigh that was almost lost to the wind, Lan Wangji spoke again, “You will face punishment in the morning."
The command was gentle but final, and it sent a sharp pang through Wei Wuxian’s chest.
He watched as Lan Wangji turned, walking into the shadows, disappearing into the night with a grace that left Wei Wuxian standing there, breathless and aching.
He wanted to hate it. He wanted to tell himself this was nothing.
But deep down, he knew it was something.
Something he would never be able to let go of.
And as the moonlight bathed him in its pale glow, he whispered to the empty air, "I think I’m in love with you."
Which was absolutely ridiculous, wasn’t it?
But the night held no answer, only the sound of the wind.
To say Wei Wuxian got no sleep would be an understatement.
He didn’t even fully remember making his way to the dorms, let alone climbing into his bed and falling asleep. Lan Wangji’s golden eyes haunted him every time he tried, and he could still feel the warmth of Lan Wangji’s arms around his waist, and how he felt in that moment—that moment, when their faces were so close that he could hardly breathe.
“Why do you look like shit?” Jiang Cheng’s voice cut through his thoughts, and Wei Wuxian blinked rapidly, realizing his brother was already standing in the doorway of their shared room. Wei Wuxian looked at himself in the mirror and winced.
The white robes weren’t doing him any favours. In fact, they only seemed to emphasize how sleep-deprived he was.
“Don’t be mean to me!” Wei Wuxian whined, “I barely slept last night. Do you know how late it was by time I got back from Caiyi Town?”
Jiang Cheng shot him a look, crossing his arms. “You wouldn’t have had to go all the way back if you didn’t forget the invitation in the first place.” He sighed, his voice softening a little. “Did you get in alright last night? I didn’t even hear you come in.”
“I had to sneak in,” Wei Wuxian sniffed, trying to make himself sound more pitiful than he really felt.
“Without getting caught?” Nie Huaisang’s voice piped up from the doorway, his tone skeptical.
Wei Wuxian’s mind immediately flashed back to the moment he had fallen, caught by Lan Wangji’s arms, the strength of his grip, no, no, don’t think about that, Wei Wuxian told himself. “Oh no, I got caught,” he said quickly, looking away and hoping to hide the way his cheeks were burning. “But after I’d already gotten through the wards. Lan Wangji said I’d face punishment today. Sorry in advance, Jiang Cheng.”
“You got caught by Lan Wangji?” Nie Huaisang said, raising an eyebrow in surprise. His gaze lingered on Wei Wuxian for a second longer than was comfortable, before he snickered, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “You’re done for. Everyone knows the Second Jade of the Lan is a stickler for punishments.”
Wei Wuxian could feel his throat tighten. His thoughts raced back to Lan Wangji, to the way he’d held him, how his voice had sounded when he said ‘reckless.’ A shiver ran down his spine, and he tried to distract himself by adjusting his robes.
“It’s not that bad,” he muttered, forcing himself to sound confident.
Nie Huaisang laughed lightly. “Of all the people you’d have to get caught in front of, it would be Lan Wangji, wouldn’t it?” he paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face, before his eyes lit up with mischief. “He’s got those eyes that can see through everything. He’s got that aura of perfection, doesn’t he?”
Wei Wuxian froze, his heart skipping a beat at the mention of Lan Wangji. He quickly tried to steer the conversation back to safer waters. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, fumbling with the folds of his robe, willing the heat in his cheeks to fade.
“You definitely know what I’m talking about,” Nie Huaisang teased, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, who wouldn’t be caught by someone like him? He’s the most beautiful person alive, right? Cold, aloof, and…” He trailed off with a dramatic sigh. “And don’t even get me started on how strict he is. I think I’ve heard more than one story about how he punishes people for the smallest of infractions. You’re in trouble, Wei Wuxian.”
Wei Wuxian’s face burned even hotter, and he swallowed hard. He couldn’t stop the thoughts flooding his mind, his eyes, his hands, the way his presence had filled every inch of the rooftop. His heart thudded in his chest. He quickly tried to brush it off. “Pfft, you’re exaggerating,” he said, his voice faltering slightly. “I wasn’t that bad.”
Nie Huaisang raised an eyebrow, a sympathetic gleam in his eyes now. “You’re not fooling me. I mean, you’re definitely going to get punished. But don’t worry. If anyone can charm their way out of a punishment, it’s you, Wei Wuxian.” He winked. “Still, you might want to avoid looking directly at Lan Wangji for the next few days. I’ve heard he doesn’t take too kindly to those who break the rules around him.”
Wei Wuxian laughed, but it felt strained. “I’ll be fine,” he said, his voice a little too high-pitched. “I’ll just…stay out of his way.”
Nie Huaisang chuckled, seemingly satisfied with his friend’s answer, though he shot him one last teasing glance. “Good luck with that. But hey, I’ll take pity on you. I’ll be here if you need someone to distract you from those golden eyes.” He gave Wei Wuxian a wink before walking off, still snickering to himself.
Wei Wuxian watched him go, his stomach twisting uneasily. If only it were that simple. He could barely stop thinking about Lan Wangji, his presence, his gaze. There was no avoiding those golden eyes, not when they haunted him even in his dreams.
“Alright, alright, enough,” Jiang Cheng snapped, cutting through the conversation before it could spiral further. He shot Wei Wuxian a warning look. “What are you going to do now? Go to the ceremony or continue embarrassing yourself?”
“I’m going, I’m going,” Wei Wuxian said quickly, straightening up. He felt his heartbeat quicken again, still recovering from the accidental confession to himself, Yes, I think I am in love with him.
"Let’s go, then." Jiang Cheng gave him a look of exasperation, already heading for the door.
They all headed toward the ceremony hall together, but Wei Wuxian's mind was elsewhere. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see Lan Wangji's piercing gaze, the cool, indifferent way he’d held him before letting him go. He couldn't shake the way his chest tightened at the memory, the way his body seemed to remember the imprint of Lan Wangji’s hands, as if that brief touch had somehow changed him forever.
As they reached the hall’s entrance, the doors opened to reveal the grand space within. The sound of whispers and rustling robes filled the air, but Wei Wuxian’s attention immediately shifted.
Just as they were about to enter, Wei Wuxian caught a glimpse of someone—someone far too familiar. Lan Wangji.
There was no mistaking it. Even among the gathered crowd, he stood out, his white robes gleaming in the lantern light. He wasn’t just any disciple of the Lan; he was the Lan Wangji, his aura a quiet, undeniable force.
Wei Wuxian’s heart leapt in his chest. He felt the nervous flutter of anticipation stir in his stomach, his pulse quickening. But before he could even take a step closer, Nie Huaisang’s voice rang out behind him.
“Uh-oh, here comes the Second Jade himself.”
Wei Wuxian froze, his hands clenching at his sides. Lan Wangji was walking in their direction, his gaze sharp, focused on something, or rather, someone, at the front of the room. His expression was unreadable, but Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but feel his chest tighten all over again.
“Just don’t say anything stupid,” Jiang Cheng muttered, his tone suddenly serious.
But it was too late. As Wei Wuxian turned, his foot caught on the edge of a nearby rug. He stumbled forward, arms flailing for balance, and straight into Lan Wangji.
For a brief, heart-stopping moment, Wei Wuxian was face-to-face with the very person who had taken over every corner of his thoughts. Lan Wangji’s golden eyes locked with his, and for the briefest instant, time seemed to still.
Gods, why did he have to be so perfect? His heart already racing from the contact, as he tried to compose himself.
Lan Wangji, however, didn’t show a flicker of emotion. Without so much as a glance toward Wei Wuxian, he simply caught his arm with a firm grip and righted him.
"You’re careless," Lan Wangji said, his voice as calm and impassive as always. "Control yourself."
Wei Wuxian swallowed, barely able to form words. “I-I’m sorry, I—”
But before he could finish, Lan Wangji had already stepped away, leaving Wei Wuxian standing there, his face flushed with both embarrassment and something else, something that burned deep in his chest, leaving him wondering if Lan Wangji even noticed he existed.
Wei Wuxian stood frozen, his mind racing as he watched Lan Wangji retreat, the coldness in his steps unyielding. His arm still tingled where Lan Wangji’s fingers had briefly made contact, and he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that something deeper had passed between them. His chest tightened, heart thrumming against his ribs as if trying to escape.
His gaze darted around the room, but everything felt blurry and distant, his focus lingering solely on the figure of Lan Wangji disappearing into the crowd. His breath caught in his throat. What is this? The unease, the frustration, the strange longing...it was all too much, too confusing.
“Nice going,” Jiang Cheng’s voice cut through his thoughts, a trace of annoyance in his tone. Wei Wuxian blinked and glanced over at his brother, who was now eyeing him with a mixture of exasperation and concern.
“I didn’t mean to—” Wei Wuxian began, but his words faltered as his brother raised an eyebrow.
“You never mean to,” Jiang Cheng muttered, shaking his head before giving him a sidelong glance. “You’d better get your head on straight. You’re going to have to face him soon enough for whatever punishment he has cooked up for you. And from the looks of it, I don’t think you’re quite prepared, if you’re literally tripping over yourself every time you see him.”
Wei Wuxian wanted to argue, wanted to insist that he was fine, that it was all just a misunderstanding, a clumsy mistake. But the truth, the crushing weight of his feelings, made his throat tighten. He couldn’t even begin to explain the storm inside him. Lan Wangji had always been a mystery, a presence he couldn’t read, couldn’t understand. But now… now everything felt different. Every brush of his gaze, every word he spoke, left a mark.
Before Wei Wuxian could answer, Nie Huaisang’s voice pierced the air again, sweet and teasing. “Ah, Wei Wuxian, are you going to keep making a fool of yourself, or are you going to keep blushing like an innocent maiden?”
Wei Wuxian’s face turned an even deeper shade of red, and he quickly turned away, muttering, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Nie Huaisang, clearly enjoying the reaction, raised an eyebrow. “Oh, come on. Don’t try to deny it. You’re practically glowing. If you ever want help with...well, whatever you aren’t feeling, just let me know. I’ve got plenty of resources at my disposal. Enough to help you woo the Second Jade of the Lan, if you so desire it,” He grinned, his tone teasing but not unkind.
Wei Wuxian gave him an exasperated look, struggling to hide his embarrassment. “You’re impossible.”
Nie Huaisang chuckled, giving him a friendly pat on the back. “Hey, I’m just trying to help. You know where to find me if you need it.”
Before he could answer, Jiang Cheng’s voice interrupted again. “Cut it out, you two,” he said, his gaze scanning the room. “Focus. We’re here for the ceremony, remember?”
Wei Wuxian nodded, pulling himself out of the whirlwind of thoughts. He had to focus. He had to.
The ceremony unfolded in front of him in a blur—speeches, offerings, and prayers—but all he could think about was the stillness of Lan Wangji's gaze, the quiet authority he carried. It was a struggle to keep his composure, to force his attention to the proceedings when every part of him was caught on the memory of their earlier encounter.
And then, as if fate were determined to taunt him, Lan Wangji reappeared.
His presence was like a pull, an undeniable force that demanded Wei Wuxian’s attention. As he passed by, Lan Wangji’s gaze shifted—just for a second—and their eyes locked.
Wei Wuxian’s heart skipped a beat. There was no denying it. Lan Wangji had noticed him. But did he see him? Really see him, the way Wei Wuxian had begun to see him? The question gnawed at him, the unease turning to something more profound, a longing that curled deep in his chest.
As the ceremony wore on, the space between them remained filled with the tension of unspoken words, of unacknowledged feelings. Wei Wuxian could feel it in every glance, every word that passed between them, even if no one else seemed to notice.
He barely even noticed as it came to an end, as Wei Wuxian was elbowed back to consciousness by his shidi, who rolled his eyes at him with far too much annoyance.
His gaze once again found Lan Wangji across the room. He stood tall, his posture as impeccable as ever, but for just a brief second, their eyes met again.
And this time, Wei Wuxian didn’t look away. He held his gaze steady, his heart pounding in his chest.
Was this what it felt like to be in love? Was this what all the stories and poems were about?
Because he’d always been a romantic, always wished for his own story one day.
But feeling it firsthand was exhilarating, invigorating.
Overwhelming.
As Lan Wangji made his way through the room towards him, he took a deep breath to brace himself, prepared to interact with his fellow cultivator once more. And if he heard Nie Huaisang laugh at him, he chose to ignore it.
“Wei Wuxian,” Lan Wangji said, and he felt himself inhale sharply, “It is time for punishment,” His tone was steady, devoid of emotion, but there was an undeniable weight in the air as he approached, his gaze never leaving Wei Wuxian.
Wei Wuxian turned to face him, his stomach clenching instinctively. “Punishment? What’s the punishment?” he repeated, forcing a smile that was more a grimace than anything else. His mind raced, wondering what kind of punishment Lan Wangji would dole out. A whip? A ruler? The thought made his throat tighten with dread. He’d been subjected to that kind of pain, many times before at Madam Yu’s behest, all for well-deserved reasons, of course, but he didn’t think he could bear it to face it here. It wasn’t something he wanted Lan Wangji to witness. The image of him standing there, calm and composed while Wei Wuxian was beaten—it was unbearable.
Lan Wangji’s golden eyes flickered, his posture unwavering. “You will copy the rules,” he said, his voice as calm as ever, but Wei Wuxian’s stomach dropped. He was supposed to copy rules? That was it?
“Copy the rules?” Wei Wuxian blinked, a surge of relief flooding through him. “That’s it?” he asked, unable to hide the astonishment in his voice. “I thought...I thought you were going to make me—”
Lan Wangji raised a brow, his lips barely twitching into the smallest of expressions, almost imperceptible but enough to make Wei Wuxian swallow hard. “You will copy all three thousand rules,” he said, his voice unwavering. “Ten times.”
Wei Wuxian’s jaw dropped. “That’s—!” he gasped. “That’s so much! Ten times?” He could barely comprehend what he’d just heard. The idea of writing out three thousand rules, much less ten times, was enough to make him shudder.
Lan Wangji didn’t react, his gaze steady and unflinching. “The rules must be memorized, Wei Wuxian. This is your punishment for being careless.”
Wei Wuxian wanted to protest, to argue that copying rules didn’t seem like much of a punishment at all, but the sheer magnitude of what was being asked stopped him. It felt like it might as well be a lifetime’s work, and his tired mind couldn't even begin to imagine how he’d get through all of it. But compared to a whipping, it was a relief—still, the weight of Lan Wangji’s expectation bore down on him.
As if that wasn’t enough, Lan Wangji added, "I will remain there the entire time, ensuring you follow through."
His mind spun, his thoughts involuntarily flashing to the quiet, imposing figure of Lan Wangji standing next to him. Will we be alone?
The idea of being alone with Lan Wangji, with no one around to see him squirm, to hear his breath catch in his throat, made his chest tighten. He tried to mask his unease with a weak chuckle, but his throat felt dry.
Wei Wuxian felt his pulse quicken. He tried to imagine sitting there, copying those lines while Lan Wangji—Lan Wangji—stood over him, watching him, his presence filling every space around him like a slow-moving river that refused to be ignored.
“Alright, alright,” Wei Wuxian muttered, trying to mask the rush of heat flooding his face. "But, uh, just to clarify, we’ll be alone, won’t we?"
Lan Wangji’s expression didn’t change, but his gaze lingered, sharp as always, and Wei Wuxian could almost hear the unspoken words in the silence between them.
“You will be supervised,” Lan Wangji repeated, his tone firm, “Come.”
“Now?” he squawked out, glancing at Jiang Cheng, who simply shrugged at him without concern. Because of course Jiang Cheng didn’t seem to care. It was Wei Wuxian who was going to face punishment after all. Which was so, so unfair.
“Now,” Lan Wangji confirmed, and Wei Wuxian had no choice but to follow him through Cloud Recesses.
If he died, he just hoped his shidi and shijie cared enough about him remotely to avenge him. Or at least not laugh at his memory forever.
The library was so quiet that the scratch of Wei Wuxian’s brush against parchment sounded almost deafening. The flickering lanternlight cast long shadows across the rows of bookshelves, illuminating the dust motes suspended in the still air.
Across the room, Lan Wangji sat with his back straight, his posture impeccable even in silence. Wei Wuxian tried—he tried—to focus on his punishment, but the lines he copied blurred together the longer he stared at them. His hand was beginning to cramp, and the monotonous repetition of the text made his mind wander.
He stole a glance at Lan Wangji, meaning only to take a quick look, but somehow his gaze lingered. It was unfair, really, how composed he looked, how effortless his very existence seemed. The slant of his brows, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his eyes remained so steady and focused—it was ridiculous how someone could look so perfect while doing absolutely nothing.
Wei Wuxian let out a soft huff and shook his head. No, he told himself. There’s no way I’m in love. That would be absurd. Absolutely absurd.
Except… why was he memorizing the way the dim light caught on Lan Wangji’s cheekbones? Why was he mapping the shape of his lips, tracing the downward curve of his mouth in his mind like he was sketching it for later reference?
No, no. That wasn’t love. He was just, he was just curious! That was it. He just wanted to understand Lan Wangji better. He was interesting, wasn’t he? All quiet and stern yet carrying a depth that Wei Wuxian couldn’t quite unravel. It was only natural to be fascinated.
“Why are you staring?”
Wei Wuxian jolted, his brush skidding against the parchment and leaving a dark ink stain near the bottom of the page. He quickly straightened, schooling his face into something more innocent.
“I wasn’t staring,” he said, too quickly. “I was just, just taking a break!” He gestured to his work with a flourish, pushing the scroll toward Lan Wangji as if to prove his sincerity. “See? I’m already halfway done!”
Lan Wangji’s gaze flickered down to the parchment, then back up to Wei Wuxian’s face. He didn’t say anything, but the weight of his silence was enough to make Wei Wuxian fidget.
“I’ve been at this for hours,” Wei Wuxian added, resting his cheek in his palm. “You can’t blame me for needing a break.”
Lan Wangji still said nothing.
Wei Wuxian shifted uncomfortably. Maybe he was obsessing over Lan Wangji a little too much, but…was it really because he liked him? No. No, that didn’t make sense. He just—he just wanted to be his friend. That was all.
It wasn’t like he had many friends to begin with.
Jiang Cheng wasn’t really his friend—he was more like a brother, even if neither of them could ever say it outright. Nie Huaisang was fun, but they’d only just met. And anyone else? Just acquaintances, fleeting connections that never stuck.
Maybe that was why Lan Wangji occupied so much space in his head. Because Wei Wuxian wanted something solid. A real friendship. Someone who wouldn’t just laugh at his jokes but would understand him.
The thought struck him so suddenly that the words tumbled out before he could stop them.
“I want to be your friend!”
Silence.
Wei Wuxian immediately wanted to throw himself out the nearest window.
Lan Wangji’s expression didn’t change, but the slight tilt of his head made it clear he was scrutinizing Wei Wuxian as though searching for some hidden motive.
Before.
“You wish to avoid copying lines.”
Wei Wuxian let out a scandalized gasp. “I do not!” He gestured wildly at the parchment. “I’m halfway done! And I am doing my work! I just—” He hesitated, the words sticking awkwardly in his throat.
“I just don’t have many friends,” he admitted, quieter this time. “And I think you’d be a good one.”
Lan Wangji studied him then, his gaze piercing, searching. Wei Wuxian didn’t fidget under the weight of it this time. He just let him look.
Whatever Lan Wangji saw in his eyes must have been enough. Because, after a long pause, he finally inclined his head ever so slightly.
“…Mm.”
It wasn’t much. But it was something.
Wei Wuxian stared, mouth slightly open, brain short-circuiting.
Had—had Lan Wangji really just agreed? Just like that?
Lan Wangji simply turned back to his book.
A slow, uncertain warmth bloomed in Wei Wuxian’s chest. He wasn’t sure what to do with it—wasn’t sure he’d ever felt something quite like this before, but he didn’t hate it.
He smiled to himself and picked up his brush again, somehow feeling lighter than he had all night.
Wei Wuxian stared, stunned into silence.
He hadn’t actually expected Lan Wangji to agree. A lecture, maybe. A cold rejection, almost certainly. But that simple, quiet Mm had knocked the air clean out of his lungs.
His lips moved soundlessly for a moment before he managed to force out, “Wait, really?”
Lan Wangji raised an eyebrow, his expression calm, unreadable. “Did you not truly wish to be friends?”
Wei Wuxian flinched, eyes going wide. “No! I mean—yes! I do!” He scrambled for words, for anything to undo whatever mess he had just created. “It’s just—just surprising, that’s all!”
Lan Wangji regarded him for another long moment, but this time, there was no suspicion in his gaze. Just patience.
Wei Wuxian exhaled a breathless laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck. “If we’re friends, then can I call you Lan Zhan?”
Silence. Once again.
The moment the words left his mouth, he panicked.
It was too much.
It was too soon.
Lan Wangji was going to think he was ridiculous. He barely had this friendship and was already pushing it too far, maybe he could still come back from this though.
Before Lan Wangji could respond, he blurted, “Actually, you can call me Wei Ying too! Since we’re friends now. Fair trade, right?”
Yet the silence remained, as Lan Wangji did not say a word in response.
Then, Lan Wangji inclined his head slightly and said, in that same calm, steady voice—
“…Wei Ying.”
Wei Wuxian nearly died.
Why did his name sound so beautiful? It wasn’t special. Just two syllables, spoken like a thousand others had said it before. And yet—he swore it had never sounded quite like that.
This was it. This was how he was going to die. Not from battle, not from mischief gone wrong, but from Lan Wangji saying his name in a library.
Desperate to regain some semblance of control, he swallowed hard and tried to breathe through the sudden, inexplicable heat crawling up his neck.
He had to say something. Anything.
“…Lan Zhan,” he breathed out, looking at Lan Wangji with reverie.
The moment he said it, Lan Wangji’s gaze softened. Barely. Just the faintest shift in the set of his brows, the gentlest ease of his expression. But it was enough to make Wei Wuxian’s chest ache.
Oh.
Oh, no.
This had been a mistake. A huge, terrible, wonderful mistake.
And that was it. That was the moment Wei Wuxian knew he was doomed. Because if just that could make his stomach flip, if just a look could make his face feel hot, then there was no hope for him at all.
He was definitely going to die.
Jiang Cheng was going to make fun of him long after he was dead.
And it was all Lan Wangji’s fault.
Wei Wuxian was going to die. He was definitely going to die. Right here, in this library, under the weight of his own stupidity.
Lan Zhan had returned to his book without another word, utterly unbothered, as if nothing had just happened. Meanwhile, Wei Wuxian was trying to remember how to breathe.
It was so terribly, horribly unfair that he was expected to finish copying his lines after that.
How was he supposed to focus when his mind was still reeling from the sound of his own name on Lan Zhan’s lips? When all he wanted to do was keep staring at him, memorizing the way the candlelight softened the hard angles of his face, the way his lashes cast the faintest shadows on his cheeks?
Wei Wuxian took a deep, steadying breath. He could do this. Just finish the damn lines. Do not look at Lan Zhan.
He picked up his brush and forced himself to focus, dragging his gaze down to the page. He copied one character, then another. He was being so diligent, so responsible. Lan Zhan would be impressed.
He made it all of five minutes before his eyes betrayed him.
Lan Zhan was still reading, head tilted slightly downward, lips pressed in that familiar firm line of concentration. His fingers, elegant and careful, turned the pages with practiced ease.
Wei Wuxian gripped his brush tighter. He was not in love. There was simply no way. He didn’t even know what love felt like, but it definitely didn’t feel like this, like this ridiculous, foolish, overwhelming urge to keep looking, to keep watching, to catch every detail of Lan Zhan’s expression as he read.
No, clearly, this was something else. He probably just wanted to be friends. Yes, that made sense. He hadn’t had many friends before, not really. Jiang Cheng didn’t count; he was more like a brother, even if Wei Wuxian couldn’t call him that. Nie Huaisang was new. Maybe he was just obsessing over Lan Zhan because he wanted a real friend.
Yes. That had to be it. Of course it was. Right?
By some miracle, he finally finished his lines after what felt like a lifetime. He stretched his aching fingers, setting his brush aside with a deep sigh of relief.
Across the room, Lan Zhan was still reading, completely engrossed in his book.
Wei Wuxian frowned. After all this time, shouldn’t he have moved? Adjusted his posture? But no, he was still sitting so perfectly, so effortlessly composed, so effortlessly beautiful.
Wei Wuxian paused. Then, without thinking, he picked up his brush again.
It started with just a few strokes. The curve of an eyebrow. The sharp, clean lines of his jaw. The careful set of his lips. His fingers moved on their own, ink gliding across the page in a quiet trance. It felt natural, easy; like this was something he had always known how to do.
By the time he was finished, the realization hit him all at once.
Oh. Oh no.
He had just drawn Lan Zhan’s face.
Wei Wuxian barely had a moment to panic before he felt the weight of a gaze on him. He looked up, and sure enough, Lan Zhan was watching him, golden eyes flicking from the page to his face.
Wei Wuxian flushed in horror.
Wei Wuxian was so caught up in his work that he didn’t notice when Lan Zhan looked up.
He only realized his mistake when silence stretched too long and a quiet voice broke it.
“…What are you doing?”
Wei Wuxian flinched, his grip tightening around the parchment as heat flooded his face.
“N-nothing!” He slapped a hand over the drawing as if that would erase the evidence.
Lan Zhan just stared at him, expectant.
Wei Wuxian swallowed hard. Stupid. Stupid! Why did he draw him?
Against his better judgment, his hand moved, slow, reluctant. He held the portrait out toward Lan Zhan, trying very hard to ignore how his fingers shook.
“Here! It’s for you! Since we’re friends now!” His body moved faster than his brain, and before he could stop himself, he shoved the paper toward Lan Zhan.
There was a beat of silence.
Wei Wuxian immediately regretted everything. Why had he done that? As if Lan Zhan would even want a drawing of himself! It was probably terrible!
He probably thought Wei Wuxian was making fun of him! It wasn’t like he was even good at drawing anyways! Why did he think this was a good idea?
This was an absolutely horrible idea.
But then Lan Zhan reached out, took the paper with careful fingers, and examined it in silence.
Wei Wuxian held his breath, bracing for a scolding, a sigh of disapproval, maybe even a reprimand about wasting ink.
Instead, Lan Zhan folded the drawing with quiet precision, tucking it away in his sleeve.
Wei Wuxian blinked, stunned.
His heart fluttered.
Lan Zhan had kept it.
“…Thank you,” he said, his voice quiet.
Wei Wuxian’s heart fluttered.
Oh, no.
This was bad.
This was it. He really was going to die.
The tea was fragrant, its steam curling lazily in the air between them. The quiet pavilion overlooked a garden of pristine white blossoms, their petals still untouched by the evening breeze. It was a familiar setting, a moment of calm after a long day.
And yet, Lan Wangji could not find his usual peace and joy that he normally felt in such a setting.
His xiongzhang, Lan Xichen sat across from him, the picture of composure as he sipped his tea. He had not spoken much, but that was typical; he always waited, allowing Lan Wangji to gather his thoughts at his own pace, and was happy to simply bask in the quiet of the moment in their otherwise busy day.
The last two days should have been simple. Welcome the guest disciples in as they did yearly, partake in the saluting ceremony, and then make himself scarce as he usually did. And yet, it was nothing but simple.
He didn’t know how to explain what had happened. Meeting Wei Ying on that rooftop should’ve been the same as any other interaction with a guest disciple. Take them for punishment and then continue about his life.
But nothing about meeting Wei Ying felt simple.
From the moment he met the boy with a shine far too bright in his eyes, a laugh so melodious it resonated within him, Lan Wangji had acted anything but rational.
He’d caught Wei Ying when he fell from the rooftop, unable to bear seeing the boy fall from such a great height, but had no issues dropping him moments later when he felt far too vulnerable all of a sudden.
He had assigned Wei Ying his punishment. He had expected complaints, had expected some half-hearted attempt to charm his way out of it. What he had not expected was Wei Ying looking at him with such unwavering openness, without even a hint of delinquency.
He’d allowed Wei Ying to slack off in his punishment session, catching him drift off several times, and yet, allowed it to happen. He’d allowed Wei Ying to call him by his birthname.
And it did something to him, hearing his name murmured with such reverie, that he could not even begin to describe it.
He didn’t even want to think about the portrait Wei Ying had drawn of him, that he’d kept safely in his belongings.
Lan Wangji’s fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around his cup at the thought of it all.
Lan Wangji did not understand him.
He did not understand himself.
“You are quiet,” Lan Xichen said at last, voice gentle but knowing, “Do you wish to speak what is on your mind?”
Lan Wangji lowered his gaze slightly. “…I am always quiet.”
Lan Xichen gave a small chuckle. “Yes. But not like this.”
Lan Wangji hesitated, staring into his tea as though it held answers. After a long pause, he finally spoke.
“…I believe I have made a friend.”
There was a beat of silence. Then, to his surprise, Lan Xichen let out a soft laugh.
Lan Wangji’s brows drew together. “Why do you laugh?”
“Because I am happy,” Lan Xichen said, setting down his cup, “I am pleased for you Wangji. I know how you dislike the company of others. Does this have to do with a certain guest disciple I saw trailing after you after the saluting ceremony?”
Lan Wangji stiffened slightly, fingers tightening minutely around his teacup. Of course, his brother had noticed. Lan Xichen noticed everything.
“…It is Wei Ying,” he admitted, voice carefully measured.
Lan Xichen’s smile was knowing, but not teasing. “Wei Wuxian,” he mused. “I have heard much about him already.”
Lan Wangji glanced up. “From whom?”
Lan Xichen chuckled. “Just from a few of the disciples. Shufu mentioned that someone was given punishment already. I believe he knew Wei Wuxian’s mother, from the disgruntled look Shufu gave. And he seems to have made friends with A-Sang as well, something which will make Mingjue happy. I know he was also worried about his brother being alone in the lectures,” He took another slow sip of his tea. “And yet, it seems he has caught your attention most of all.”
Lan Wangji chose to ignore that, knowing all too well that Xiongzhang and Chifeng Zun wished for their brothers to be friends just as the two of them were. And yet, Lan Wangji was not so inclined.
Instead, Lan Wangji looked away, staring into his cup. “He is difficult to ignore. Persistent.”
That was an understatement. Wei Ying was infuriatingly present, his voice too loud, his energy overwhelming, his mischief unending. But his laughter lingered in Lan Wangji’s mind even in the silence of his chambers. The way his eyes sparkled when he spoke, as though he carried his own light, made Lan Wangji’s chest feel strangely tight.
Lan Xichen tilted his head slightly, studying him with quiet amusement. “And how did you come to be his friend?”
Lan Wangji hesitated, remembering the panic in Wei Wuxian’s tone of voice when they spoke, “…He asked...I agreed.”
Lan Xichen laughed again, but it was not mocking, just warm, fond. “That sounds about right.”
Lan Wangji frowned slightly. “You approve?”
“Why would I not?” Lan Xichen’s expression softened. “I have always wanted you to have friends, Wangji. I am pleased you found someone in this lot of disciples that you wish to befriend.”
Friends.
Lan Wangji had never thought much about the idea before. He had never needed to. He had his brother, his sect, his duty. That was enough. But then Wei Ying had come along, bright and bold, slipping past his walls before he had even realized they were being breached.
A friend.
Was that truly all Wei Ying was to him? Was it normal for one’s friends to make their heart yearn as his had started to?
Lan Wangji looked down at the tea in his hands, but his mind was full of Wei Ying—his laughter, his voice, his hands deftly sketching Lan Wangji’s face onto a piece of paper as though it were the most natural thing in the world. The way he had said Lan Zhan, soft and reverent.
“I see,” Lan Xichen said, a small smile still playing on his lips. “I think this will be good for you.”
Lan Wangji did not know if it would be good.
But he already knew there was no stopping it.
Wei Wuxian barely made it through the door before he collapsed onto his bed with a long, dramatic groan. He burrowed face-down into his pillow and let out another, even louder groan for good measure. The sheer weight of his own existence was unbearable.
Nie Huaisang, lounging comfortably with a book in his lap, didn’t even glance up., “That bad, huh?”
Wei Wuxian let out a pathetic whimper, “Worse.” Because it was so, so much worse.
Nie Huaisang turned a page with maddening ease. “What happened? You looked perfectly fine when you left for the library.” He finally peeked over the edge of his book, curiosity piqued. “Wait, don’t tell me you actually copied all those lines? Without dying? Without complaining?” His eyes narrowed. “Did Lan Wangji break you? Do we need to give you your funeral rites?”
Wei Wuxian groaned again, rolling onto his back like he was at death’s door. “I finished my lines,” he admitted, voice hollow.
Nie Huaisang’s brows rose. “So he did break you.”
“No, no,” Wei Wuxian waved him off weakly. “I copied my lines. I survived.” He let his arm flop over his eyes, voice dropping into something dangerously close to despair. “Physically.”
Nie Huaisang finally shut his book. “Alright, that’s it,” he said, sitting up. “What happened to you?”
Wei Wuxian debated internally, staring at the ceiling like it might spell out an answer for him. His thoughts were a mess. His heart was still racing. His hands still tingled from where he’d nervously clenched his brush for hours, struggling to write even one proper line when all he could think about was—
He swallowed hard.
Because at least Jiang Cheng wasn’t in the room to tease him for being a stupid idiot already. And maybe Nie Huaisang would be more understanding of his dilemma.
“Do you think it’s ridiculous to fall in love at first sight?” he asked, barely above a whisper.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Nie Huaisang stared at him. Wei Wuxian didn’t dare look back.
Then, with slow, deliberate care, Nie Huaisang placed his book aside and turned fully to face him.
“Wei-xiong,” he said, voice far too cautious, “Are you telling me you’re in love?”
Wei Wuxian flailed.
He buried his face in his hands, practically writhing in place. “I don’t know! That’s the problem!” he groaned. “It can’t be love, right? That would be completely ridiculous! Absurd! I mean, I barely know him! I just met him!”
Nie Huaisang tilted his head, considering. “That does sound absurd.”
Wei Wuxian shot him a glare, only for it to immediately crumble into pathetic agony. “Right?! But then why,” He covered his face again, rolling back and forth like he could shake the feelings out of his body. “Why does he look like that?! Why does he say my name like that?! Why is he so perfect! Why is he—ugh!” He flopped onto his stomach again, muffling another groan into his pillow.
Nie Huaisang tapped his chin, unfazed. “The heart wants what it wants. And clearly what yours wants is Lan Wangji. Not that I blame you. Lan Wangji is known for being unearthly beautiful despite being untouchable. You’re only human.”
Wei Wuxian peeked up, eyes wet with suffering. “That’s not helpful, Nie Huaisang.”
Nie Huaisang shrugged. “It’s the truth.” Then, after a thoughtful pause, he leaned in, watching him closely. “But the real question is: what are you going to do about it?”
Wei Wuxian froze.
That was the question, wasn’t it?
What was he going to do? Because this, this agony, was not sustainable. He couldn’t keep living like this, like his heart might combust every time Lan Zhan so much as existed near him. Like the very air shifted when Lan Zhan was in the same room, like the way he sat across from him, lost in his book, completely unaware of the fact that Wei Wuxian was memorizing every sharp, elegant angle of his face, was somehow ruining him.
He thought back to the moment in the library. The way his own name had sounded in Lan Zhan’s voice.
Wei Ying.
Wei Wuxian made a sound like he was dying.
He had a full year to spend in Cloud Recesses. And he hadn’t even survived a full day here.
“I can’t keep living like this,” he admitted at last, rolling over to look at Nie Huaisang, who looked far too entertained. “It’s unfeasible. I will die, Nie Huaisang, and then you’ll have to do my funeral rites for real.”
Nie Huaisang looked entirely too pleased. “Oh,” he said, grinning. “Oh. You have it bad, don’t you? You’re doomed.”
“I know!” Wei Wuxian wailed, rolling away again.
Nie Huaisang nodded sagely. “That does seem problematic. And a rather difficult way to spend our time here.”
Wei Wuxian stared at the ceiling again, hands clenched at his sides. His mind raced, scrambling for a solution, an escape, anything. And then—
He inhaled sharply, sitting up so fast that Nie Huaisang nearly leaned back in alarm.
Because truly, there was only one solution. Only one thing that was there even to be done at a time like this. Because he had a full year. And he was going to use it wisely. Productively.
“How serious are you about helping me out?” Wei Wuxian asked, deadly serious.
Nie Huaisang’s eyes gleamed with intrigue. “That depends. What do you have in mind?”
Wei Wuxian’s jaw clenched. He curled his fists, bracing himself.
“I’m going to woo Lan Zhan. And I want you to help me.”
Nie Huaisang did not laugh. He did not tease. He did not question why Wei Wuxian had just said something so utterly unhinged. He simply smiled, slow and knowing, like he had been waiting for this.
“Wei-xiong,” he murmured, voice brimming with unholy delight, “You’ve come to the right person. As it turns out, I am the master of all things love and romance. I’ve read so many books on the matter. If courting Lan Wangji is your goal, then we will win him over for you and put you out of your misery.”
Wei Wuxian grabbed Nie Huaisang by the shoulders, eyes wide with desperate hope. “You swear it?”
Nie Huaisang placed a solemn hand over his heart. “On my honour as a connoisseur of romantic tales.”
Wei Wuxian groaned in relief, flopping dramatically back onto his bed. “Thank the heavens! Because if I have to go one more day with this, this burning, this longing, this unbearable need to gaze into Lan Zhan’s eyes forever, I think I might actually die.”
Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes. “Wei-xiong, you’re pathetic.”
“I know,” Wei Wuxian moaned, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. “I hate it.”
Nie Huaisang smirked. “But I love it. This is far better entertainment than anything I could have ever asked for.” He scooted closer, voice lowering conspiratorially. “So. Tell me everything. How deep are you in?”
Wei Wuxian groaned again, dragging his hands down his face. “Too deep. Dangerously deep. Like…like ‘I was copying my punishment lines today, but I kept getting distracted because I wanted to steal glances at him’ deep. Like ‘I heard him say my name once and now it’s haunting me’ deep.” He let out a whimper. “Like ‘I gave him the stupid portrait I drew of him without even realizing and I want to die’ deep.”
Nie Huaisang gaped, eyes going huge. “How are you so far gone already?”
Wei Wuxian looked at him miserably.
“Oh, you’re doomed.”
“I know! But I have to do something about it, Nie Huaisang. I can’t live like this!”
Nie Huaisang nodded sagely. “Agreed. Unfeasible. So!” He clapped his hands together, eyes shining. “Let’s strategize.”
Wei Wuxian sat up, determination solidifying in his chest. “Right! I need a plan. Something foolproof. Something,” He paused. “Actually, wait.” He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t even know what Lan Zhan likes.”
Nie Huaisang blinked. “Oh. That is a problem.”
Wei Wuxian groaned and grabbed Nie Huaisang by the collar, shaking him lightly. “Huaisang! How am I supposed to woo someone I barely know?!”
Nie Huaisang hummed, thinking. Then, suddenly, his eyes lit up. “We need intel,” he declared. “We need to find out what Lan Wangji actually enjoys, and then we’ll tailor your courting approach accordingly.”
Wei Wuxian’s grip tightened. “Yes. Yes! Genius! But how do we do that?”
Nie Huaisang waved a hand dismissively. “Leave that part to me. I happen to be the younger brother of the best friend of Lan Wangji’s elder brother’s. Xichen-ge thinks of me as a younger sibling. I’m sure I can find out a thing or two. And, unlike you, I am subtle.”
Wei Wuxian gasped, clutching his chest. “I am subtle!”
Nie Huaisang raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
Wei Wuxian deflated. “Okay, maybe I’m not. But that’s fine! That’s why I need you!” He grabbed Nie Huaisang’s hands, practically vibrating with excitement.” Nie Huaisang, please. I’m counting on you. I need you.”
“No, you need Lan Wangji, clearly,” Nie Huaisang smirked. “Don’t worry, Wei-xiong. By the time I’m done gathering information, you’ll know Lan Wangji better than he knows himself.” He leaned in, eyes gleaming. “And then, my dear friend, the real fun begins.”
Before he could say another word, Jiang Cheng strode into the room, his sharp gaze sweeping over them before narrowing suspiciously. “What exactly are you two scheming?”
Wei Wuxian immediately straightened, wiping the ridiculous lovesick look off his face. “Nothing! Absolutely nothing. Just a casual, completely normal, and not at all suspicious conversation between two new friends and roommates.” He threw an arm around Nie Huaisang, grinning. “Right, Nie Huaisang?”
Nie Huaisang beamed. “Oh, not at all! We were just talking about how your shige is madly in love with Lan Wangji and wants to woo him.”
Wei Wuxian howled in betrayal. “Nie Huaisang!”
Jiang Cheng froze, eyes widening in horror. “…He’s what?”
Wei Wuxian groaned and flopped onto the bed, muffling his scream into his pillow. “I hate you, Nie Huaisang. How could you sell me out so easily? Betray me like that? I trusted you!”
Nie Huaisang patted his back, completely unrepentant. “You really shouldn’t have.”
Jiang Cheng, meanwhile, was staring between them like he wished he had never walked into this room. “Lan Wangji? The Second Jade of the Lan, Lan Wangji. Who you’ve already embarrassed yourself in front of multiple times today? Holy shit, is that why you keep acting like an idiot? Because you’ve fallen in love? Wei Wuxian! You really are determined to embarrass the Jiang sect aren’t you,” he rubbed a hand against his face, “Please tell me he’s joking and I do not need to worry about this.”
“I wish he was,” Wei Wuxian wailed, rolling over dramatically. “But no, apparently this is my life now.”
Jiang Cheng crossed his arms, looking more annoyed than surprised. “Why are you making such an idiot of yourself? You flirt with girls all the time—shouldn’t this be easy for you? And since when are you a cutsleeve?”
Wei Wuxian groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. “I don’t know! And that doesn’t count! That’s just the ladies at the market; I do it for discounts, Jiang Cheng, it’s never meant anything.” He sat up, eyes wide and almost pleading. “This is different. I have never felt like this before. I have no idea what I’m doing. I didn’t even know I like men. I don’t like men. But Lan Wangji isn’t just any man. He’s-” he waved his hand around with a flourish, hoping to capture all that Lan Wangji was.
Jiang Cheng looked at him, then sighed, shaking his head. “You’re an idiot.”
Wei Wuxian, for once in his life, did not argue. He just let out a long, suffering sigh. “I know.”
Nie Huaisang rested his chin in his hands, clearly enjoying every moment of this. “Well, at least we can all agree on that.”
This was going to be terrible.
He really was probably going to die.