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Chapter Text

Jiang Cheng had learned long ago not to waste the few precious moments of peace he could earn if he performed well. He was nothing if not a perfectionist, an attempted outperformer in every possibly aspect. He yearned for these moments and did his best to get them.

It was the fear of losing them, more than anything else, that forced him to hold his tongue until now.

Maybe it was the softness in this current moment which lulled him into a deceptively confident state of mind. The room was comfortable and warm with the balcony doors opened to allow the late morning sun in. The expensive deep red silken sheets caressed his bare skin as his body sunk into the soft bedding. The solid, muscled chest he rested on rose and fell in repetitive calming motions. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend he was floating in a boat on the water back in Lotus Pier. The arm thrown loosely around his waist holding him against the man’s body made the fantasy impossible to truly fall into.

They’d been laying there for perhaps half a shì if the movement of the sun across the room was anything to go by. Time mattered little to Jiang Cheng anymore. He only found himself watching to avoid thinking about what time late morning less than a year ago would mean to him; the ending of morning training.

As he lazily watched the day go by, a different, just as obsessive thought returned to him. He was going to be put out soon probably. He’d have nothing to do but go back to his room where the other two were. The thought made him want to burrow into the body he lied against and never leave. Here, he was in limbo, simply existing, with no real concerns. The last thing he wanted to do was return to them where he experienced nothing but stress. In thinking about it, the question he’d been wanting to asked bubbled up again.

He’d toyed with discussing the matter recently and with nothing to do or focus on it refused to leave him. He wanted to ask. He needed to ask. It was becoming impossible to ignore. He couldn’t live with those…shells anymore without some sort of explanation as to why. If for nothing more than figuring out how to live with it until something happened.

He just needed to work up the courage. And hope his questioning didn’t make his or the Twin Jades’ situation any worse.

The limp hand at his hip began rubbing and squeezing at the bony outline the tight skin there pulled against. Jiang Cheng hated this. It reminded him of how much he was literally wasting away. He wasn’t eating as much as he should, especially with how his core was locked away, denying him any possible assistance with inedia, weak as it would be. The way his wrists grew more bony and the dips in his hips and collarbones grew deeper told him so. He just couldn’t bring himself to eat. He had no appetite.

Wen Ruohan didn’t seem concerned.

Distracted by, and welcoming, the mild frustration of the unwanted touching, Jiang Cheng breathed out a sigh across Wen Ruohan’s toned bare stomach. He earned a deep rumbling chuckle in response.

“Is my Lotus Petal satiated?” Wen Ruohan asked in a jovial tone.

He got like this sometimes after a particularly satisfying fuck at the expense of Jiang Cheng’s body. It usually happened more when his sons were away. They’d both been absent from Qishan for more than a month now. Jiang Cheng was just waiting for when he’d bring out “Cheng-Er” again and, in accordance to how cuddly and handsy he was becoming as of late, it was fast approaching. Just the memory of that being whispered into his neck followed by soft kisses and supple sucking sent a cold shiver down his spine.

Jiang Cheng didn’t feel one way or another about being “satiated”. He just hoped Wen Ruohan was after the three rounds they had.

Still…a question like this, in this moment, with how endeared Wen Ruohan was, made Jiang Cheng wonder—could he ask?

The rubbing and squeezing softened into loose petting as Wen Ruohan simply enjoyed the skin of the body he earned through war. Well…attempted war. Not even attempted yet. At the expense of a covert mission to retrieve their swords, then. The hand moved further down to Jiang Cheng’s upper thigh near the crease of his ass.

Jiang Cheng sat up at this. The hand fell away. “Master,” he said in a tone he hoped sounded light and curious for curiosity’s sake. He was never any good at the false high-toned coquettish voice he heard people use to get what they wanted out of someone. “I was hoping I could ask you a question.”

The hand moved to his lower back now and it irked Jiang Cheng to no end. It sat heavy and present. Unignorable. His fingers twitched almost seemingly of their own volition as though they were separate from himself and were just as disgusted as him. No matter what he did, he couldn’t escape being touched.

If it was him, a simple “fuck off” and a shove to the side would be enough to be released with no hard feelings. Here, where he wasn’t allowed to decide what happened to his body, Jiang Cheng yearned for the ability to even say “fuck off” let alone break the offending hand.

Jiang Cheng tamped down the urge for unnecessary violence that would just get him into trouble and looked to Wen Ruohan’s face.

Wen Ruohan was an attractive man. He was tall and broad with defined muscles. Jiang Cheng probably would have drooled over his body in jealousy two or three years ago. His face was angled with high cheekbones and thin eyebrows, giving him a permanently mischievous and conspiring look but Jiang Cheng might also just be biased there. In these moments where he was relaxed and appeared unguarded (though he never truly was) the sharp lines of his jaw and fierce expressions were softened. His deep brown eyes had widened with his own curiosity of Jiang Cheng willingly asking a question. His thin lips quirked slightly upwards on the right side of his face. He was accepting, for now.

Jiang Cheng paid careful attention to the miniscule movements in his expression as he said, “I wanted to know why you’re doing what you’re doing to Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji.”

The quirk in his lips dropped. They became a thin line but they weren’t tight. Yet. The light in his eyes dimmed slightly but they weren’t narrowed. Yet. He was calculating.

Jiang Cheng hoped he’d get an answer because it was becoming insufferable. If he didn’t get one he might actually whine.

“Why do you want to know?”

He couldn’t help the hysteria creeping into his voice a bit. “Because I can’t live with it anymore!” He winced internally. That was too revealing. He decided to barrel over it with as much talk as he could. “They’re…I can’t explain it but it’s disturbing to live with them now. They barely talk at all anymore. They don’t do anything. I’ve seen Lan Xichen simply stare at a wall. For hours. I watched him. And Lan Wangji cries now. He never used to cry. Even when he was whipped when we first got here he didn’t cry.”

Shit that was too much AGAIN. The last thing he wanted was to remind Wen Ruohan of when they were first found creeping around the palace. Since when was he like him? Incapable of shutting the fuck up!

He’d lost track of Wen Ruohan’s face in his mini rant and found his heartbeat skyrocketing. The random flashes of panic he’d grown accustomed to lately returned with a vengeance, twisting his stomach and heating his face. Was it too much? Wen Ruohan was kind enough to allow Jiang Cheng to vent on occasion, but never directly about him or what he was doing.

He couldn’t bring himself to look up.

“Do you really want to know why I’m doing this?” He asked. “The real reason why?”

Was it a trap? Was he testing him? Seeing how much he knew? He sounded genuine, as though nothing would be more interesting to him than explaining his reasonings to Jiang Cheng. But it could just be a trick, too. He got like that sometimes. He occasionally liked to use his words to twist the emotions of the people under his control.

Jiang Cheng decided to err on the side of caution. Wen Ruohan always preferred when he deferred to him.

“May I know, Master?” He asked, hoping it was submissive enough.

He heard the sheets rustling as shifting weight next to him sunk the mattress slightly. Wen Ruohan had sat up and was now cupping his face, running a thumb across his gaunt cheek.

“I’m doing it for fun.”

The air in his lungs disappeared. He clenched at the sheets with a knuckle-white grip to fight off the horrified shudder. The easy amusement in the man’s voice made Jiang Cheng want to vomit.

He was doing this for fun.

Even without looking at him Jiang Cheng could tell he was telling the truth. He was breaking them, turning them into something terrifying and gut-wrenching and horrific…for fun.

“That’s only part of it,” he continued. “The other reason is to break them and I believe I am almost there.”

That at least Jiang Cheng expected. It was the main threat the three of them first heard when Wen Ruohan initially revealed his plans for them. He’d been terrified at the time: to receive such treatment and to watch two of the most capable cultivators he’d ever known be systematically, and possibly irreversibly, broken down.

Wen Ruohan and his sect were sadistic. It was the one fact he refused to allow himself to forget. It kept him alive so far.

“Make me some tea while we talk, A-Cheng,” he ordered.

Jiang Cheng rose from the bed immediately. He was thankful for a chance to get away from the man even if it was to make tea. He picked up the thin robe he’d shed a few hours earlier and put it on as he crossed the room to where the tea brazier sat. The robe was little more than a decorative outer robe, crimson in color and embroidered with white and pink flowers Jiang Cheng didn’t recognize. It wasn’t much but it was enough to keep his skin from crawling.

He lit the cold brazier with a set of sparking stones (provided due to Jiang Cheng’s current distinct lack of qi-access) and set to work preparing the tea. While he worked, Wen Ruohan continued, much to Jiang Cheng’s simultaneous joy and chagrin.

“You know as well as I do how headstrong they are. Lan Wangji, with his confident pride and ego. Lan Xichen, with his quiet self-assuredness and natural-born ability to guide. Lan Wangji would defer to his brother and Lan Xichen would gladly take the lead, controlling the situation while they made decisions for and with each other. They needed to be broken. I only discovered the true possibilities for them myself once I began the journey.”

Jiang Cheng had set the pot on the brazier and began putting everything away, listening silently as he went. It made sense. He knew what Wen Ruohan was talking about. Lan Wangji respected his brother enough to refer to him as “xiongzhang”. He’d easily let his brother handle and lead their interactions with Wen Ruohan and Lan Xichen was capable enough to make his control and protection subtle and hide it. Someone like Wen Ruohan couldn’t accept that.

But did he have to go so far? And what did that mean for Jiang Cheng? He certainly hasn’t gone to such extreme lengths for him.

Yet, if he were to be honest with himself, he didn’t think he needed much “breaking” to begin with. He’d had the worst few weeks of his life before being thrust into the worst months of his life. He wasn’t…aloof to his situation. He also wasn’t particularly interested in doing anything but surviving day to day with a detached indifference. And even that was too hard sometimes.

When he was first captured he’d probably asked to be killed at least once a day, if not more. He fought and argued and tried to convince anyone to beat him enough that it could kill him. Those feelings never truly went away.

He only remained in a state of being alive to avoid how his selfishness would reflect negatively onto the Lan brothers. This is what Wen Ruohan did when everyone did what he wanted. Jiang Cheng didn’t want to imagine what would happen if he killed himself.

That was the other warning they all received that day, along with a demonstration. Everyone was reliant on the other. If you fucked up, disobeyed, or displeased Wen Ruohan, someone else was punished.

That first day, Wen Ruohan suffocated Jiang Cheng until Lan Xichen kissed Lan Wangji on the lips. Jiang Cheng was nearly dead by the time Lan Xichen submitted with fire in his eyes and clenched fists. If he could’ve thought past the lack of breathing he would’ve been disgusted. He’s still disgusted, not with Lan Xichen, but with Wen Ruohan.

It took a sick and twisted person to elicit glee from forcing two brothers to lie with each other.

The tea was made and Jiang Cheng carefully carried the tray over to the side of the bed. Wen Ruohan took the steaming cup and sipped at it. Accepting that he was probably going to be used as a table, Jiang Cheng knelt down and used the edge of the bed to steady and help support the tray. His endurance had improved exponentially since he began stupid exercises like “be a table” but it didn’t mean he had to like it. Wen Ruohan didn’t say anything so he took it as permission.

That was dangerous in and of itself. Again—Jiang Cheng didn’t care all that much.

“You are probably wondering where you land in all of this,” Wen Ruohan continued. Jiang Cheng knew what he was going to say because he already understood it. The reasoning, however, surprised him. “You never needed to be broken because you already were. You spent your entire life attempting to please your pathetic neglectful father and doing anything you could to earn his affection. You’ve been raised from birth to be broken and to submit. And you perform it so beautifully…” he took another sip and continued, almost in a happily surprised tone, “and so conscientiously too. I hardly had to do anything.”

Okay…that actually stung a little. Jiang Cheng shook with an intense and raw emotion he couldn’t quite place. He was glad he’d chosen to use the bed as a support.

The implication was a lot. It was true, in its own way, he supposed. Jiang Cheng had chased after the affections of a man who didn’t like him because he was too much like the woman who gave birth to him. He tried to please him, gain his attention, earn his love. But this was different. He didn’t want Wen Ruohan’s love or his attention. He wanted to be left alone to rot in a corner. If pleasing the bastard was what got him there, well that was simply a means to an end.

That’s what he told himself.

The reality of the situation was much worse. All the routes he’d initially taken to remain sane were gone. He was practically alone in this situation now. There were no more late nights awake talking with Lan Xichen because neither one of them could sleep. There was no more arguing with Lan Wangji (attempting to, anyways) to distract from their reality. There was no more planning, convalescing, discussing. There was nothing to keep him from the obsessively negative thoughts. Nothing to keep him present. More and more, he found himself staring at walls, not sleeping, not eating, and not interacting with anyone but Wen Ruohan.

Still, it didn’t change how desperately he was trying to keep everyone and everything together. He didn’t have a future once or if they made it out of this but they did. They still had a home and family and sect members. They could recover and move on. And they had each other.

As for his future…

He’d said it so many times the bite was no longer there. He didn’t have anyone or anything anymore now, or in the future. He was no stranger to relying on himself, it just sucked in these circumstances and made everything more difficult. He didn’t think anyone could ever get used to losing everything they had ever loved but the idea of it stung a little less every day as the truth settled in with each reminder.

This time was no different. He found himself sinking into the bottomless hole in his innards he crawled out of each day, ready to serve a sadistic asshole with a body that was no longer his to control. It was wearing him down slowly, bit by bit, turning him into something just as unrecognizable, in its own way.

The hand returned this time to settle on his head. The deft fingers began toying with the silken black strands, occasionally massaging his scalp.

He felt like a pet.

“You can’t deny how beautiful they are together. Two jades, twins in everything now.”

Yeah, right down to the fucking haircut.

It was downright eerie. He knew them before all of this. He saw them before all of this. Lan Xichen was bright and smiley and at ease, comfortable with his position and confident in his capabilities. Lan Wangji was above everyone and everything, practically a master at age fifteen, with the easy elegance and mien of someone who knew it.

Now they were the exact same.

Their bodies looked the same. Their hairstyles. Their clothes. Their mannerisms. Mirrors. Clones. Two halves of a single, perfect, coin. And they were forced together day after day for sick sadistic man’s amusement.

It tore their minds apart.

“Would you like to know how I managed it?” Wen Ruohan asked.

His tone suggested he was surprised by his own offer. It took Jiang Cheng by surprise as well. It was coupled with the anxiety and nausea and disgust at the entire situation.

He knew, to some degree, how Wen Ruohan did it. Jiang Cheng may mostly be used by Wen Ruohan alone these days but he was there before they reached this point. He was used while they were trained. Still, he knew he didn’t know all the man had done to them. He didn’t think he really wanted to…up until this exact moment.

Wen Ruohan was never this open. If Jiang Cheng knew exactly how he trained them to be the clones they were, he might be able to help them in the future.

“How?”

Wen Ruohan released a self-satisfied sigh, as though he were reveling in the results of a long and hard days’ work.

“ I suppose I already had the idea of this from that first day you three were captured…” he began

Jiang Cheng prepared himself to listen in, past the general fucked-up-ness of it all, hoping to find something in it to help them, or him.

____________

Jiang Cheng had never seen the throne room of the Scorching Sun Palace before. He never had any reason to. Any of the discussion conferences he attended and the indoctrination happened on the outer grounds of the palace or further out in Qishan territory. It didn’t look too different from what he imagined. Opulent, imposing, surrounded by guards.

The floor tile was cold and hard on his knees while the room itself was hot and stifling and still, as though the doors hadn’t been opened for a year. There were gold and red accents everywhere. If Jiang Cheng didn’t know better he’d think this was a wedding hall. But he did know better and would much rather sit through a wedding than whatever the hell was going to happen to them.

Everything hurt. This was not a new predicament. Jiang Cheng just forgot how much being physically restrained after being beaten hurt. He’d been blissfully unaware for about a month.

Lan Wangji looked subdued with his head bent down where he knelt next to Jiang Cheng on his right. He couldn’t imagine Lan Wangji was faring any better than he was. His leg seemed to have healed since the whole cave thing but it would never be the same. Injuries like that when you aren’t allowed proper rest and care never would. The kneeling certainly didn’t help.

Lan Xichen was hard to read. Jiang Cheng was too far away to notice anything other than steadfastness. He was the only one with his head held high, staring up at Wen Ruohan where he remained perched on his throne on a dais at the top of the grand staircase they’d been thrown down in front of.

Lan Xichen was lucky. He was the only one out of the three of them to: 1) never be held captive in Qishan and 2) never be physically assaulted by the Wen. All three of them were in a similar situation when it came to assaults on their sects, though, making it surprising Lan Xichen is even willing to save face.

Jiang Cheng wasn’t interested in anything like that anymore. Surely Wen Ruohan knew what had happened to him and his sect. It was possible he knew what was done specifically to him. He knew what could happen to him if they were caught. It only felt right to meet his end here.

He tried to decide how he felt about it all and found himself returning to one emotion, and one only: a deep-seeded rage.

He was angry at Wen Ruohan and his sect. He was angry about getting caught. He was angry at Wei Wuxian disappearing and knowing he now was never going to be able to find him. He was angry at himself for failing his sect for the third time in one month.

All of this rage settled just beneath his skin, buzzing in him like Zidian upon his finger. Kneeling there, waiting, had him wanting to lash out. He was becoming wild. He could feel it. Something in him was snapping. Eventually, it was going to break.

He just hoped someone killed him before he got there.

The chances of that were looking good if Wen Ruohan WOULD GET THE FUCK UP AND DO SOMETHING!

He was merely sitting on his throne staring down at them like the filth he thought they were.

Maybe that was why Lan Xichen was glaring at him. Jiang Cheng thought it might have something to do with being on slightly more equal footing with Wen Ruohan than Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji. He was, naturally, more politically aware and had been at his uncle’s side in preparation for becoming sect leader longer than Jiang Cheng. However, it was possible he wasn’t saving face, he was just that pissed off at him. Jiang Cheng could appreciate that, at least.

He sucked in a breath and blew it out. He clenched his fists, cracking the knuckles, testing the binds once again. Anything to dispel some of the energy. He felt more than saw Lan Wangji’s eyes on him. He could fuck off and go choke.

“Sir, these were the only ones we could find. They were acting alone,” Jiang Cheng heard someone say. The voice sounded familiar. Probably one of the ones who captured them.

Nothing happened as far as Jiang Cheng could tell. He refused to look up to the man who destroyed everything he’d ever loved. It took a while, but finally the descending footsteps became audible.

How lucky they were to be in the direct presence of the chief cultivator.

“These three hardly need any assistance. Lan Xichen. Lan Wangji. Jiang Wanyin. Two sect heirs—well, one sect leader, his brother, and one former sect heir. Three of the most promising cultivators of their generation. Surely they need no introduction.”

“Of course not, my lord,” the man giving the report said while bowing deeply.

“I wonder what led you to come here,” Wen Ruohan said, this time to them. None of them responded. “Hmm?” He encouraged.

Jiang Cheng bristled. He didn’t want to start a fight he would lose instantly. He had to clench his teeth to keep from responding. Thankfully, it seemed Lan Xichen was willing to take the reins.

“We came to retrieve the swords of the cultivators you held captive here.” Jiang Cheng stared down at the floor with wide eyes. He couldn’t believe Lan Xichen was going to be so…candid. “We only want them to be able to defend themselves since you stripped them of their weapons. We thought, perhaps incorrectly, Chief Cultivator Wen would not be so willing to return them. Therefore we chose to perform a stealth mission.”

“I wonder why you thought I would not be willing to return them,” Wen Rouhan said in response. “Was it not the young cultivators who left of their own volition, without their weapons?”

The jabs would have been comical if the situation was different. He was speaking to three members of sects either maimed or completely destroyed by his sons and their sect. Two of the three of them were main actors in the “leaving of their own volition” event. Jiang Cheng didn’t even want to leave and wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for Wei Wuxian and fucking Lan Wangji.

Why not add that back into the mix of things he was angry about? He had some to spare.

“Forgive me, Chief Cultivator Wen, but it is far from surprising that they left, considering they were being used as live bait for Wen-led night hunts without weapons. My brother and Young Master Wei of the Jiang Sect became trapped in a cave and needed dire assistance. Sect Leader Jiang left in search of help.”

“You say this as though he could not have returned to Nightless City with my son in search of help. Your argument is weak, Lan Xichen. As is your reasoning for attempting to break into my sect.”

Jiang Cheng wanted to argue. Their arguments weren’t weak. He’s ignoring the facts, which were that Wen Chao trapped them in the cave and then tried to kill them when they managed to escape. Not only that, his own father tried to argue for their weapons back and had failed. Of course they decided attempting a direct approach would fail. It appeared Lan Xichen was also unwilling to ignore the reality of the situation.

“Perhaps Sect Leader Jiang would have been more inclined to seek out assistance with Young Master Wen if he hadn’t tried to kill the cultivators when they managed to escape the cave.”

“Which begs the question, why could he and the others escape, yet not Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji?”

“Wangji and Young Master Wei were injured and the Tortoise of Slaughter blocked their path.”

“Despite my son having killed the tortoise himself?”

Lan Xichen was caught. He had two choices in front of him, which Wen Ruohan knew. He could point out how Wen Ruohan and everyone else there knew he was lying or he could maintain the lie and have his main defense fall apart. Neither were good options.

Wen Ruohan continued on, “Regardless of past reasonings, another slight from the sons of the Lan Sect and Jiang Sect has occurred. You cannot simply expect me to allow such insult and abuse.”

“We only want returned to us what is ours. We apologize for the lengths we took to retrieve our belongings. It was wrong and we should have gone through the proper channels. We acknowledge the disrespect and request Chief Cultivator Wen’s understanding and leniency.”

Damn, he must’ve been planning that speech even before they were caught. Jiang Cheng was impressed. He’d never have been that good with his words. Not now, anyways.

Movement out of the corner of his eyes told him Lan Xichen bowed low enough to press his forehead to the floor and Lan Wangji followed his lead. Jiang Cheng refused. He would kneel before the monster in front of him but he would die before willingly showing such deep respect.

“Were it only this, I might allow you to leave with minor punishment.”

Jiang Cheng held his breath as Wen Ruohan’s footsteps moved closer to him. He knew. He knew everything. And based on what he’d seen and heard about their little escapade, he’d know Jiang Cheng somehow had a core. He was screwed. There was no way he was going to just let him die now.

“Chief Cultivator, please. I implore you to allow us to leave. There is nothing else we wanted besides our weapons.”

“That may be true. Unfortunately for you…” Jiang Cheng saw Wen Ruohan stop in front of him. A hand found its way to his face and lifted his chin, forcing Jiang Cheng to look up at him. “You’ve revealed quite the anomaly to me; one that I cannot simply allow to leave.”

“Is it not enough that our sects have been burnt down? We are all three orphans now. Sect Leader Jiang has lost his entire sect and is being forced to rebuild. Is that not punishment enough for the crimes committed in the past?”

Lan Xichen was desperately trying to persuade Wen Ruohan but Jiang Cheng knew it wouldn’t work. He didn’t tell them what the Wens did to him or that he was even captured. He didn’t tell them about his core.

Wen Ruohan stared down at Jiang Cheng with narrowed eyes and thinned lips. “Tell me, Jiang Wanyin, how is it that you have a core?”

Jiang Cheng clenched his fists. The silence from Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen was deafening.

“I understand you were caught by my son, and in the struggle, you lost your core. How is it you now have one?”

Lan Xichen’s gaze burned from where Jiang Cheng knew he was staring. Jiang Cheng grit his teeth. The last thing he’d wanted to do was tell them about what happened to him.

“Oh? Did Young Master Jiang not inform you? You’ve been traveling with him all this time and were unaware?”

“We—I didn’t…” Lan Xichen stuttered, clearly at a loss for words. He then said, voice soft, “it was not my place to pry.”

“And now here you are—because he refused to share necessary information. I would have let you go if not for him.” Wen Ruohan then turned back to Jiang Cheng. “What do you have to say for yourself, Young Master Jiang?”

“Let them go and leave me.”

“What?” Lan Xichen gasped at the same time as Lan Wangji bit out a harsh, chiding, “Jiang Wanyin.”

Jiang Cheng wasn’t looking at them. This wasn’t between him, them, and Wen Ruohan. It was only between him and the bastard who murdered everyone he’d ever loved.

“There’s nothing you can do to me you haven’t done already,” Jiang Cheng hissed.

The sharp sound of skin hitting skin hit him before the radiating pain in his cheek. The slap sent Jiang Cheng careening to the side. The silence once more grew oppressive. No one knew what to expect next as Wen Ruohan stared down at him with rage in his eyes.

Jiang Cheng wondered if this is what an offending cockroach in a storeroom felt like; existing to be squashed. He knew he’d angered Wen Ruohan but there wasn’t much reason for him to care. Even less so if Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen were let go.

Unfortunately for all three of them, Wen Ruohan did not seem inclined to release any of them.

Wen Ruohan turned to the man who’d given the report earlier. It seemed he had some sort of authority over the guards because when they were done talking, the man began barking orders.

“You there, Lan Xichen shall be taken to the dungeons. And you two, Jiang Wanyin shall be taken to the Inferno Palace.”

Lan Xichen gasped, his eyes on Jiang Cheng the entire time. He apparently understood something Jiang Cheng didn’t and it immediately put him on edge. What was the Inferno Palace?

Wen Ruohan left first. Then, Lan Xichen was dragged out. Finally, Jiang Cheng was taken in the direction Wen Rouhan went. Jiang Cheng looked back at Lan Wangji, who was watching his brother being taken away. Even as Jiang Cheng figured he was being taken somewhere to be tortured, he couldn’t help but wonder—What about Lan Wangji?

He received his answer soon enough.

Jiang Cheng was thrown into a small chamber inside the Inferno Palace. It was barely larger than a meager room at an inn. A chair secured to the floor sat in the center back wall. Chains hung down from the ceiling. Besides this, the room was bare.

Jiang Cheng was sat down in the chair. One of the guards undid the chains binding his arms and wrists. Two others, one on each side, grabbed one arm each and secured it to the arms of the chair. Jiang Cheng wasn’t thick or overweight by any means yet the metal cuffs securing his to the chair were so tight the metal instantly pressed into his skin and began to scrape against it. Struggling would prove useless and would do nothing but cause unnecessary damage to his wrists.

He was secured to the chair by a strap around his torso and on each leg. Aside from being uncomfortable and making deep breaths difficult, Jiang Cheng couldn’t understand what the point of this was. How was he supposed to be tortured when he was sat like this?

His thoughts were interrupted when the door opened.

“I suspected you might say something to that nature: ‘nothing you could do to me would matter’.”

Wen Ruohan entered with another man wearing black robes. The man stepped to the side while Wen Ruohan approached him.

Jiang Cheng was immediately on edge. If he knew what Jiang Cheng would say or do, then why go through all of the trouble? He received his answer in the form of the door opening and Lan Wangji being shoved through.

“…wait,” Jiang Cheng breathed out.

The picture of what was about to happen became clearer and Jiang Cheng didn’t like it. He didn’t like Lan Wangji either, for that matter, but he didn’t know what Wen Ruohan had planned and he didn’t want Lan Wangji to be subjected to it.

If Lan Wangji was confused about the situation, he didn’t show it and Jiang Cheng couldn’t tell. He was smart though. Jiang Cheng was sure he’d figure it out.

Lan Wangji was shoved into the center of the room and made eye contact with Jiang Cheng. He then continued to maintain said eye contact as though he wanted to interrogate Jiang Cheng himself. He probably did.

Jiang Cheng was forced to watch as Lan Wangji’s robes were ripped away from his body leaving him in only his pants. Then, his wrists were bound in front of him, yanked above him, and secured to the ceiling with a chain. Lan Wangji remained silent the entire time.

“What are you doing?” Jiang Cheng demanded. “I’m the one you want information from. What’s the point of bringing him into this?”

“It’s simple. You’ve made it clear nothing I could do to you would change your response. While I think I could persuade you otherwise, I believe this will be more effective.”

Lan Wangji was turned to the side while Wen Ruohan moved across the room, giving him perfect view of both Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji. It was at this time Jiang Cheng spotted the whip.

He pulled wildly at the wrist and chest restraints keeping him in the chair. “Wait…wait, don’t do this!” He yelled. “Lan Wangji has nothing to do with this!” The cuffs bruised and scratched against his wrists as he tugged. They were so tight that even breaking his hands wouldn’t let him free.

“This will hopefully change your mind.”

The torturer took several steps back. He ran the whip through his gloved hand once. Twice. He raised his arm. Jiang Cheng heard the whistle as it cracked through the air and hit Lan Wangji’s bare back with a harsh thwack. Lan Wangji remained silent. Why wasn’t he fighting?

One more hit across his back. On the third Lan Wangji finally made a sound. The wet, breathy groan slinked out of him like he’d tried to hold it back. On the fourth Jiang Cheng could see the blood flick off the whip as it retracted.

“Stop! Stop stop stop! I don’t know, alright! It was all Wei Wuxian! He—” Lan Wangji let out a whine on a fifth or sixth hit and Jiang Cheng swallowed thickly trying to keep himself from getting sick. “He took me to Boashan Sanren and she gave me a new core!”

“Stop.”

The sudden silence was loud in the small room. Lan Wangji panted softly through the pain with his head bowed but his breathing stuttered as though he was trying to hide it. Jiang Cheng sagged into his seat. His eyes and cheeks and clothes were wet with tears and sweat. His heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to explode. Yet he couldn’t look away from the scene.

Is that what he looked like when he was whipped? Is that how he sounded? Did he try to be brave? He couldn’t remember anything past the fire radiating from his chest and side. The wound itched.

Wen Ruohan crossed the room. He stopped so close Jiang Cheng had to tip his head back just to look at him. The angle made his neck ache.

“You went to Boashan Sanren?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me. Now.”

Jiang Cheng glanced to Lan Wangji. “Let him go and treat him, and I will.”

“Tell me, or I will have him whipped until he dies.”

He didn’t have any bargaining power here and he knew it. He proceeded to tell Wen Ruohan as much as he knew which, as he told it, he realized wasn’t a lot. He probably would’ve learned more if Wei Wuxian hadn’t disappeared off the face of the earth.

Wen Ruohan stared at him with dark, calculating eyes, trying to decipher what was true and what was a lie. All of it was true. The only thing he didn’t tell him was that someone helped them escape. He didn’t need to know that.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Wen Ruohan pulled away. Jiang Cheng closed his eyes. All he could see was Wen Chao holding the Jiang discipline whip and the joy in his face as it dripped with Jiang Cheng’s blood. The image made the rage surge again.

This was stupid. Suicidal…

Good enough for him.

He used all of the saliva and mucus left over from his tears and spit the glob at Wen Ruohan. It  landed on the center of his back leaving a wet stain that dripped down the expensive robes. Wen Ruohan paused.

Lan Wangji was whipped again three more times in quick succession. Unprepared and not expecting the hit, Lan Wangji jumped and let out a high throaty whine. The fresh marks hit across the all the previous ones and more blood flew onto the floor.

Wen Ruohan left the room.

They were unceremoniously thrown back into the cells in the dungeon. For some reason they threw Jiang Cheng in with Lan Wangji. He couldn’t understand why until he saw the jars, water, and rags. Jiang Cheng had half a mind to be mad at this. They couldn’t treat him themselves? The answer was obviously no. If it were up to the Wens, Lan Wangji would be left to bleed and die of infection. He knew that from experience.

Jiang Cheng waited until the sounds of the guards’ retreating footsteps were no longer audible. He wanted to give Lan Wangji his space before he tried to kill him for this. He wouldn’t get too far with his wounds. Jiang Cheng didn’t want the pain of a failed, struggled attempt, if death wouldn’t follow it.

He also took this moment for himself to just breathe, sagging against the bars of the cell. He opened his eyes to see Lan Xichen staring at him expectantly.

Jiang Cheng cleared his throat. “Uh…sorry. I couldn’t do anything…”

He shook his head. “What happened?”

Jiang Cheng was going to respond when he heard movement behind him. He looked back to see golden eyes piercing him with an expression Jiang Cheng still couldn’t read. His fists were clenched in front of him, still bound in chains.

“You lost your core.” Lan Wangji said. Jiang Cheng looked away. “How?”

He sighed and slumped down to the ground, scooting back until he could lean against the stone wall. He closed his eyes.

“If you don’t want to tell us, we would understand…I just wish we had known. I never would have suggested this if—”

“It’s fine,” Jiang Cheng cut Lan Xichen off. “I…” He took a breath, then another, fighting the surge of emotions. The anger would always be simmering underneath. The sadness and the pain and the humiliation were suffocating. He cleared his throat again but it did nothing to help with the thickness in his voice.

“Wei Wuxian and I made it out and we went towards Meishan Yu. We traveled for a day or so. We realized we didn’t have any supplies so when we came to a small town, we stopped to get some. We thought we’d have some time before they caught up to us. I—I wasn’t in the condition to do much, so Wei Wuxian left me somewhere we could see each other and went to buy what we needed. They showed up while we were there. I saw them and found a place to hide but Wei Wuxian…”

Jiang Cheng could never forget the panic as he watched them inch closer and closer to Wei Wuxian who remained entirely unaware. He’ll never forget the fear. He’ll never forget the realization bubbling within him that after losing everything he couldn’t lose Wei Wuxian too, and that was more important than anything else, even the future of his sect.

“Wei Wuxian didn’t see them or…or something…I don’t know. But I knew that, no matter what happened, I couldn’t lose Wei Wuxian too. I just wouldn’t be able to handle it after…everything. So, I stepped out and distracted them. I didn’t have much of a plan but I outran them when I left to get help for when you and Wei Wuxian were stuck in the cave so I thought—maybe…”

“You thought you could outrun them,” Lan Xichen finished for him. “But you failed. You were caught.”

Jiang Cheng took in another deep breath and nodded. “Yes, I was caught. I was taken back to Lotus Pier where Wen Chao had Wen Zhuliu remove my core. And I was whipped with my own discipline whip.”

“I’m sorry,” Lan Xichen said softly.

What else was there to say?

“I thought I was going to die but for some stupid reason, Wei Wuxian showed up and rescued me. I was nursed back to as much health as I could get without a core, but I was weak. If I didn’t get some form of help I was going to die. Wei Wuxian came up with the idea to go to Baoshan Sanren. I always thought he didn’t know where she was but he said he knew and that he wasn’t supposed to go back but this was important. So, he and blindfolded me and led me up her mountain. I went up, got a core, and then went back down. In all it took probably six or seven days. Wei Wuxian told me he was going to be waiting at the town at the foot of the mountain for me but when I descended, he wasn’t there. I spent probably a week or so looking for him before deciding to continue on to Meishan to update my sister and my mother’s family on everything that happened.”

“To think you met Baoshan Sanren and that she could simply give you a new core…” Lan Xichen marveled. “No wonder Wen Ruohan refused to let us leave.”

“I’m sorry. This was my fault. I knew there was a chance we could get caught.”

He looked back to Lan Wangji. He was still bleeding and no doubt was in a lot of pain. He hadn’t said anything else and had closed his eyes, seemingly focusing on breathing. Jiang Cheng eyed the medical supplies.

“Let me help you. I’m sure it’s why I was put in here with you. Wen Ruohan apparently wants you to be treated.”

"So he can use me against you,” Lan Wangji said in a thready voice.

“That’s why they took you away?” Lan Xichen asked.

“Wen Ruohan already knew everything that had happened to me and Lotus Pier. He already knows I have nothing to lose. He’s banking on my still having my humanity and not wanting someone else to get hurt because of me.”

“He was correct,” Lan Wangji said.

“I’m going to treat your wounds. There’s no point in you dying of infection when all of the supplies are right here.”

Lan Wangji didn’t respond. Jiang Cheng knew how much pain he must’ve been in. There was no telling what internal damage was done on top of the open wounds. Jiang Cheng had broken ribs among other injuries with only a few slashes of the whip. Lan Wangji received ten.

Lan Wangji remained silent while Jiang Cheng knelt down next to him to examine the wounds. He would have to clean them before applying any ointment or bandages. It would be hard with how much he was still bleeding. He hesitated with hands hovering over his back, not knowing where to start.

“Take one of the cloths and dab at the wounds until the blood can clot and the bleeding stops. Then, clean the area, apply any ointment or medicinal poultices you can, and wrap it.”

Jiang Cheng looked back to see Lan Xichen straining against the bars of his cell. His eyes were shining as he watched, desperate to help his younger brother. He looked to Jiang Cheng with an expression that told him he was leaving the most precious thing in the world to Jiang Cheng to care for.

Jiang Cheng did as he said. It took three of the cloths to get the bleeding to stop. He discarded them, fully soaked and stained with blood, as far away from him as possible. Then, he tried to clean the mess that was Lan Wangji’s back while avoiding the wounds which was…difficult.

The amount of time between receiving the blows and getting them to stop bleeding allowed the blood to dry and stain the skin. He couldn’t press too hard lest he jar the wounds again and hurt Lan Wangji more.

The entire time Jiang Cheng worked Lan Wangji had his eyes closed and fists clenched tight. He tried to be quiet but certain sounds filtered through when Jiang Cheng agitated one of the wounds or pressed too harshly.

The worst of it was applying the poultice. He was lucky enough that he had to make it himself and only had a vague idea once more of what he was doing. This once more forced Lan Xichen to walk him through the arduous task. He held up individual herbs and creams for Lan Xichen to identify for him and how to use them. Then, he had to actually apply them. Jiang Cheng’s stomach was typically not weak but having to dig around someone else’s open fresh wounds made him gag.

He was almost excited when it came time to wrap up his back and be done. That required some skill on his part. He decided on a system of applying as much on his back as loosely as possible before lifting him up just enough to get everything under him and wrap it tightly, securing it on his side.

By the time he was done, both were exhausted. Jiang Cheng laid down next to him and closed his eyes again this time to finally get some sleep.

“Sect Leader Jiang should cooperate from now on,” Lan Wangji muttered into his arms.

“Yeah…” he agreed easily. “I will.”

“We should rest. We don’t know what tomorrow will bring…and thank you for helping him.”

Jiang Cheng didn’t deem that worthy of a response and drifted off into sleep.

When Jiang Cheng opened his eyes next, it was to the screeching of the metal door to their cell being opened. He peered blearily up at the guard whose shadow loomed over him and Lan Wangji. It was one of the same Wen-dogs who dragged him to the torture chamber yesterday.

Jiang Cheng bristled instinctively. Then something inexplicable happened. He wasn’t sure if it was from still not being fully awake or if he suddenly decided Lan Wangji’s protection was his responsibility, but when the soldier moved closer, Jiang Cheng found himself sitting up to shield Lan Wangji from him. A growl escaped from his lips without him meaning it to and he blinked.

Had he just…growled? Thinking about Lan Wangji getting hurt because of him?

This thought was followed with righteous indignation because damn right he did! These cowards were using the three of them against each other. It wasn’t fair and it certainly didn’t mean Jiang Cheng was going to take the responsibility lightly.

The man, for his part, didn’t roll his eyes at Jiang Cheng’s pathetic show considering he didn’t have his core available to him at the moment. “You have been summoned,” the man said simply, in a stern, straight-forward, “I’m-not-arguing-with-you-about-this” tone.

Jiang Cheng opened his mouth, a snappy and rude reply on the tip of his tongue, when movement behind him caught his attention. Lan Wangji gazed up at him with furrowed brows.

Damn these dogs forcing him to take people he didn’t give a shit about into account. Though, from the furrowed brows, Lan Wangji could also be just as confused as Jiang Cheng at his protective display. Seriously. What was that?

Regardless, no matter how much Jiang Cheng complained to himself, it wouldn’t change anything. He didn’t know what would get Lan Wangji punished versus Jiang Cheng simply getting told to shut up with a punch to the gut. He couldn’t take any more chances when the first was so devastating.

He sighed and got up, allowing the man to lead him to gods knows where. They went up a set of stairs at the end of the hallway, confirming what Jiang Cheng suspected, that they were underground. He was then led through a series of confusing and identical hallways until, as it turned out, “gods knows where” was a conference room.

The soldier knocked on the door once then dragged Jiang Cheng in with an ironclad, bruising grip on his arm. The door closed behind them and Jiang Cheng was presented to the room. To say the first glance over the room confused him was an understatement. He stared blankly, taking in what he’d been summoned for.

The room contained nothing but a table with a large map in the center. About ten or so cultivators stood around it with Wen Ruohan at the head. Jiang Cheng was shoved closer towards the table and then held there, making any attempt to escape or hide impossible.

Wen Ruohan approached him with an almost content smile. “Young Master Jiang, welcome.”

Jiang Cheng simply blinked again. What was he supposed to say? “Thank you for having me? I prefer Melon Seed Tea?” Or perhaps Wen Ruohan is expecting him to say something like, “I know you murdered my parents and my sect and that your son tortured me, but I am so honored to be a guest of the Chief Cultivator. I prefer Melon Seed Tea,” complete with a bow?

Wen Ruohan placed his hands on Jiang Cheng’s shoulders and pulled him towards the head of the table in the space he’d previously occupied.

“You are an intelligent and clever young man. Tell me, what purpose do you believe I have for bringing you here?” He proceeded to gesture to the giant map with his hand.

Jiang Cheng swallowed, once more fighting the urge to say something that would get Lan Wangji or Lan Xichen killed, and took an actual look of the map. He leaned over the table and glanced over it. He recognized it instantly.

It was a map of Yunmeng and the surrounding areas.

Jiang Cheng memorized the map of Yunmeng when he was a child at his mother’s behest. Every cultivator needed to have an understanding of the terrain they lived in and the surrounding areas. It was ingrained in him.

Looking at the map now, even without explaining why he was there, Jiang Cheng had a pretty good idea why Wen Ruohan summoned him.

“Well?” He encouraged.

“It’s a map of Yunmeng. You want me to point out where Wei Wuxian took me…where Baoshan Sanren is.”

Some of the men around them whispered or chuckled at him, most likely for his tenacity. Jiang Cheng found it irked him. He wiggled around in the metal cuffs he’d been bound in, once more finding himself full of rage-fueled energy he needed to dispel. The chain linking them clinked quietly and the sound made Jiang Cheng freeze.

For a moment he was thrown back to when he’d first developed his core around six years old. When his parents found out, they’d been elated, and his father gifted him his own bell. He’d taught him how to put qi into it and tied it onto his robes. Then, he patted him on the back. For weeks a young Jiang Cheng’s chest grew warm from joy at the memory.

He found himself wanting to lean into the hand Wen Ruohan still had on his shoulder, the warmth and heaviness feeling just like it did from his father that day. He came back to himself quickly, however, unable to reconcile his reality with the memory. Unfortunately he was not quick enough. Wen Ruohan apparently noticed. The man squeezed his shoulder once and stared down at him. Jiang Cheng fought the urge not to fidget.

“Forgive my rudeness,” Wen Ruohan said. “Remove his bonds. He will require use of his hands.”

Jiang Cheng stared back down at the map while the chains were undone. The map had not yet been updated to show the territories Wen Ruohan had taken over. Eventually, everything would be corrected, but here, now, in this room, in this map, the Jiang Sect remained the dominating sect of Yunmeng. Here, Jiang Cheng would become sect leader with Wei Wuxian at his side. Here, he still had a family and a sect and a future.

His eyes burned.

“Where did you go? Where is Baoshan Sanren?”

Jiang Cheng scanned over the map. Wen Ruohan was correct in assuming Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian would not have been able to get far from Lotus Pier with how injured he was. He could lie. How believable was it that, after being tortured and on his death bed, Jiang Cheng was able to trek from Lotus Pier all the way to Yiling and up a mountain?

He stared down at the familiar mountain ranges around Yunmeng trying to come up with a lie before deciding it didn’t matter. He only even knew it was Yiling because, again, he was forced to memorize maps as a young child. He frowned, trying to remember the paths they took. It wasn’t like he was mentally capable at the time.

He thought it might be funny to tell him what they really did when escaping initially: how they’d escaped purely because his mother bound them with Zidian and that they actually returned to Lotus Pier, that Jiang Cheng had lost his mind momentarily and couldn’t handle the reality so his consciousness fractured. He probably would’ve loved to hear how Jiang Cheng choked out and blamed Wei Wuxian for everything. He seemed like the sadistic type to enjoy a story like that.

He couldn’t tell them they were headed towards Meishan, in case his sister was still there. That was fine. He could lie about that. Actually, he could lie about a lot. No one else knew the truth except for him and Wei Wuxian.

“Chief Cultivator—” one of the men spoke up.

Wen Ruohan held up a hand.

They were growing impatient. Jiang Cheng took in a breath and let it out slowly to center himself. The last thing he wanted to do was lose it in front of these cultivators and let them think him more pathetic than he already felt. He leaned over the table again and pointed to Lotus Pier.

“After we escaped from Lotus Pier the first time, we headed east.” He moved his finger along the map to where the town he’d been found at was. “We stopped here after a day or two of travel for supplies. This is where I was captured. When we escaped the second time, we decided to travel south.” He moved his finger towards Yiling. “We found an abandoned house along the path and stopped there to treat my wounds. The injuries from the whip healed decently, but there were other injuries which couldn’t be healed without a core…”

He paused. His eyes were growing wet and his face burned. Did any of them know what other injuries he was referring to? He sucked in a breath and released it again, much shakier than before. He closed his eyes and swallowed. He couldn’t break down. Not yet.

That same hand from before returned, this time to his back. An attempt at comfort from the man who was the cause of his pain. It made him sick. He hated it. He hated that it helped him calm down even more.

“You’re doing well. Keep going,” Wen Ruohan murmured quietly in his ear.

The pressure of the hand on his back increased. Jiang Cheng realized he was being pushed into the table, trapping him between it and Wen Ruohan. From how he was bent over and the height of the edge it dug into his stomach making breathing difficult.

He cleared his throat and continued. “When I was in well enough condition, Wei Wuxian led me…” he trailed off as he looked for the mountain. It wasn’t large or imposing but there was mist and it was ominous at the time. The only mountain large enough in the area was one just north of Yiling. “Here. This is where Baoshan Sanren is.”

One of the other cultivators looked at the location Jiang Cheng was pointing at and scoffed. “There is nothing in the area but foothills hardly large enough to call mountain, let alone be called a celestial immortal’s home.”

Jiang Cheng glared at the man. “I was blindfolded the entire time. If you want more information then you’ll have to find Wei Wuxian.”

“Where is he?” Wen Ruohan asked.

This was dangerous but Jiang Cheng was at the edge of his emotional rope. He turned his glare onto the chief cultivator. “Why don’t you ask your bastard son? After all, I’m sure he’s the one who knows where he is, if he didn’t kill him,” he sneered.

The room went quiet. The pressure of the hand on his back moved. This time the pressure increased over the previously broken and still tender ribs. A whine escaped from him as he was pushed further into the table, cutting off his air. For a normal cultivator this would be no issue. Jiang Cheng’s core was currently locked away and Wen Ruohan was strong, making it impossible for Jiang Cheng to escape from. His eyes began to water.

The sounds of him struggling to breathe through the pain were loud. His vision began to blur and his ribs ached terribly. He scrabbled at the table until his arms were bound by the chains again. Only once his arms were secure did Wen Ruohan step away.

Jiang Cheng sucked in a gasp and collapsed over the table. The paper cool paper crinkled against his burning cheek. He’d closed his eyes at some point and opened them again to blearily stare at the robes of one of the men in his line of vision. They were typical Wen red and white, but there was delicate embroidery with beads and patterns in the fire.

He still hadn’t caught his breath when he was yanked up by his upper arms and let out another whine as the action pulled on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Young Master Jiang. You did well.”

There were murmurs and quiet discussion from the men in the room. Jiang Cheng looked at them all, the map, and then finally Wen Ruohan with watery eyes. He felt the dampness around his eyes spread down his cheeks.

“However, my advisor is correct,” Wen Ruohan continued. “There are only foothills in the area you pointed out to me.” His voice and expression took on a darker edge as he said, “are you sure you are not mistaken?”

“I told you already. I was blindfolded and dying. I’m pretty sure that’s where I met Baoshan Sanren, but if you want to truly know, you’ll have to ask your son to fish Wei Wuxian out of whatever hole he threw him in.”

Wen Ruohan hummed as though he were truly considering Jiang Cheng’s words. Jiang Cheng didn’t give a fuck about any of this. What he could possibly want Baoshan Sanren for was beyond him unless it truly was just about the core. But even then, Jiang Cheng was the only confirmed case of this. Was it that big of a deal?

He supposed if his enemy had their core removed but then somehow met an immortal practically on the side of the road and got a new core, he’d be concerned too. But he’s not Wen Ruohan and this wasn’t his problem to deal with. Therefore, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Very well. I thank you for your cooperation. Take him back to his cell.”

The walk back was quick. He was underground once more before he knew it and thrown back into his cell with Lan Wangji. He knew Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji had questions for him. He knew he should talk to them but that could wait. For now, he just wanted to curl up into a ball and hide from the world.

He pulled himself into a corner of the cell and hugged his knees to his chest to hide his face. And though he tried to be quiet, he knew Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji could hear every sob.

_________

Jiang Cheng did not emerge for a long time.

The tears stopped a while ago. They left Jiang Cheng with sniffles and a swollen face. Moisture had built up inside the ball he’d curled into enough that his clothes, face, and even the air itself grew damp and humid. His body had gone from numb to tingling to cramping from being in the same position for too long but he couldn’t bring himself to move. He felt as though unfurling himself would leave him more open, vulnerable, exposed. He didn’t want that. He wanted to be able to hide in his knees and cry himself to sleep.

It was a child’s thought; one a younger Jiang Cheng might have had before he hit double digits in age and became used to his parents’ arguing.

Jiang Cheng supposed if there were ever a time he felt like a helpless child crying for his parents it would be now. That’s what he was, wasn’t he? The thought would’ve stung hours earlier. Now, he felt that yawning numbness again.

He was empty.

There was nothing he could do or hope for besides death and even then such a fate depended upon the actions of someone else.

Eventually he could no longer stand the stifling dampness and heat of his cocoon. He lifted his head and gingerly stretched out his legs. He was immediately met with the cooling still air of the underground dungeon and resistance from his muscles.

He blinked a few times. His little ball had been dark compared to the few lanterns which surrounded them and the light hurt. He looked around, trying to readjust to his surroundings. After a few wild glances his eyes settled upon the small pots they’d been provided.

They were porcelain.

Porcelain shattered into large pieces when broken, his mind supplied.

All he’d have to do is break one of the pots and take a shard to his neck. Forget the wrists. They were too unpredictable. If the neck was sliced deep enough nothing could be done.

His hands twitched towards the pots. It would be so easy; over in mere moments. He wouldn’t have to wait for someone else to fuck up.

He could do it himself.

“-anyin…JIANG WANYIN!”

Jiang Cheng blinked.

He came back to himself slowly. First, he realized he was standing directly in front of the wall he’d been sat across not moments before. A white mark was left from something scratching or impacting the wall. Pieces of some sort of white stone were scattered about the floor in front of him. His arm was raised slightly and his hand was dripping blood due to the object clenched tightly in his fingers It was smooth and cold with a jagged, sharp edge. He turned up his palm to see a piece of the porcelain pot he’d been staring at.

The pieces slotted together to form a whole story. He brought his hand closer to examine the shard. A shiver ran down his spine. Goosepimples rose on his flesh. Was he really about to…

Jangling became audible somewhere to his left. He turned to see Lan Wangji up. He was bent over and using the wall for support but he was up nonetheless.

“…Jiang Wanyin…” Lan Wangji said, voice tense and shaking.

He must’ve been in a lot of pain. Even getting up probably strained his injuries.

He then glanced to the right where the other cells were, remembering Lan Xichen was here too. Lan Xichen had pressed against the bars of his cell and was gripping onto them as though he desperately wanted to tear through them. His chest was heaving and his face was pale. His eyes were so wide Jiang Cheng could see the whites of them.

“What…” Jiang Cheng whispered. His throat was sore and his voice came out hoarse. “What happened?” He asked no one in particular.

Lan Xichen slumped against the bars. He slid down to the ground with his head bowed, leaning against them. “Oh thank the heavens,” he sighed. “You’re back.”

“I’m…what?”

Lan Wangji cleared his throat. His voice was tight as he explained, “Jiang Wanyin suddenly rose and smashed the pot. We tried to call to you. We asked what you were doing…”

“It was like you were in a trance. You wouldn’t respond. You just stared at the pot…and your expression…” Lan Xichen shook his head wildly. “I thought you—” he cut himself off, as though he couldn’t bring himself to say what he thought Jiang Cheng was going to do.

Jiang Cheng could. He could say it. He just couldn’t quite believe it.

“I was going to kill myself…”

Everything in their small corner of the dungeon paused. Their breathing. The air. Time itself. Lan Xichen shook his head again. Lan Wangji simply stared.

Jiang Cheng examined the porcelain shard again. He rubbed his bloody fingers over the smooth surface and rough edges.

Was he really going to do it? Did he truly want to die? He had a core again. What about Wei Wuxian and A-Jie? What about their sect? It didn’t exist anymore but it’s not as if Jiang Cheng couldn’t rebuild it. Hadn’t he already begun recruitment?

What had he been thinking?

What had his parents died for? And he was going to throw it all away again because he missed them? Because he was stuck in a cell in Qishan for the time being? Because he saw a map that reminded him of his life before all of this?

He dropped the porcelain shard and took a stumbling step back from the wall.

“We can’t imagine what you’re going through,” Lan Xichen said. “And it may seem difficult, even impossible, for now…but it’s not hopeless.”

“It is!” Jiang Cheng cried. “It’s impossible, and everyone knows how terrible I am at attempting it…” He could practically feel the way Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji’s stomachs dropped. “But I’ve also never known when to stop trying. Don’t worry. I’m not dying any time soon…I just…”

“Sometimes a chasm feels impossible to climb out of,” Lan Wangji said.

“But sometimes it’s because you’re too focused on the chasm itself, not your surroundings,” Lan Xichen added on. He wore a wry smile.

Jiang Cheng had never heard this before but it sounded like an inside joke or a Gusu proverb. He figured it fit the situation well enough.

He could do that. He could look at something other than the chasm, that hole inside him built from a yearning to return to a home that no longer existed. He could look at his surroundings and move forward for now.

Said surroundings happened to be Lan Wangji leaning heavily against the wall and fighting collapse on shaking legs. Jiang Cheng couldn’t understand it. Why go to such lengths? Jiang Cheng got him whipped! If it were him watching the person who got him whipped killing himself, he’d help him along!

He huffed out a sigh. The frustration was good. It was something he could feed into that wouldn’t drive him over the edge again.

He hurried to Lan Wangji’s side and helped him back onto the ground.

“Why’d you try to stand up like that? You’ve agitated all of your wounds and now you’re bleeding again. Do you know how long it took me to stop the bleeding before?”

Lan Wangji glared at him.

“On your stomach. Let me see,” he ordered.

It was a testament to how much he must’ve been suffering that he actually did as he was told. The frustration from before bled into a small amount of guilt. It was fine. He was going to fix it.

The three of them were quiet as Jiang Cheng looked over his wounds again. He kept glancing back at Lan Xichen who had moved to resting against one of the walls of his cell. He was silently watching them.

Jiang Cheng thought he looked tired.

“What?” He eventually asked.

“It’s nothing. Please excuse me,” Lan Xichen responded.

“No, it’s something. You’re not gonna thank me again or anything, right?”

Jiang Cheng had said…things to Lan Xichen while he was in Qinghe. Terrible things. Lan Xichen took it in stride but it wasn’t fair to him and Jiang Cheng knew he was being honest by thanking him for saving Lan Wangji’s life. The thankfulness just came too little too late.

Lan Xichen huffed out a small laugh. “No, I have learned my lesson…”

“Then?” Jiang Cheng encouraged.

This was the kind of shit that he hated. Wei Wuxian used to this before they got close. He’d want to say something but hold his tongue. He still did it when he thought it was something that would upset him. Jiang Cheng would rather know than be kept in the dark.

He sat back on his heels and turned back to Lan Xichen and really looked at him. He was fidgeting with the hem of his stained white robes. It seemed the talismans they use to keep them clean don’t work when you don’t have access to your qi. His hair was a mess, the topknot coming out and the ends matting. His face and hands were dirty.

He wouldn’t look up despite how long Jiang Cheng was staring at him.

“I just wanted to ask…if you were okay.” Jiang Cheng blinked. A moment passed. Then another. He was going to respond but Lan Xichen continued. “But I realized that was a foolish question. Of course you’re not okay. I have never seen someone…wanting to do that before. I didn’t realize how deep the pain was.” He then said, voice barely a whisper, “of course you’re not okay.”

“When I lost my core and woke up safe next to Wei Wuxian, I yelled at him, asking him why he even bothered saving me. I wouldn’t eat or move or speak because I just didn’t see a point in living. There was none.” He was really beginning to hate the burning of trying to hold back tears. “I truly became the one thing I was always fighting…being useless.”

“You’re not,” Lan Xichen responded quickly.

“My father sure thought I was. He’d rather Wei Wuxian take over the sect than me. I guess in a way he died getting what he wanted.”

He glanced back to Lan Xichen when his comment was met with silence. He looked like he wanted to say something but was deciding against it. Jiang Cheng was honestly thankful. He didn’t want to hear any comment anyone could make about who deserved what when it came to his sect or his familial relationships.

It wasn’t long before Jiang Cheng had redressed his wounds. Lan Wangji fell asleep, the strain and exhaustion apparently too much for his strict Lan training. Lan Xichen moved to the center of his cell and began to meditate. With nothing to do Jiang Cheng decided to look at his own wounds. He applied a cream here and a bandage there to help with scarring since he couldn’t heal it.

He considered sleeping but that required sitting there with nothing to focus on which was apparently dangerous for him.

He went about cleaning up the broken pot. He found the piece from before he’d clutched hard enough to draw blood and decided to pocket it. They didn’t have weapons. He couldn’t access his qi so talismans and spells were out of the equation. This was probably the only form of protection he’d be able to get his hands on.

After completing those tasks, Jiang Cheng was once again left with nothing to do but wait.

Time moved slowly when one had nothing to do. Jiang Cheng thought at least something should be happening. Shouldn’t Wen Ruohan be attempting to get more information out of them? Shouldn’t they spend their days being tortured and humiliated?

Was it a blessing, waiting down here in their dank and dim cells? Was it better that he was able to consistently clean and redress Lan Wangji’s wounds? Should he be thankful Wen Ruohan wasn’t using them as tools against their sects and people?

Them being left alone meant nothing was hurting them and they couldn’t hurt anything else or each other.

There was only one problem.

Jiang Cheng was getting antsy.

The only interactions they had with anyone in the Wen sect was the guard who brought them extremely meager meals of plain congee. Not even a vegetable or a single slice of meat. Jiang Cheng was going to starve.

Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen, for their part, weren’t complaining. Lan Xichen spent most of his time meditating. Lan Wangji spent most of his time…also probably meditating. It was difficult to tell with him lying down so as to not jostle his wounds.

His back was healing nicely though. Jiang Cheng would never consider himself a proper doctor but he was proud of his work.

Besides playing medic, Jiang Cheng didn’t have much else to do. His sect didn’t meditate the way the Lan sect did. They still did it every day. It was a necessary part of cultivation. It just wasn’t the Jiang Sect’s priority. But Jiang Cheng liked it. It was something he was actually good at compared to Wei Wuxian.

He initially followed the Lan brothers’ lead and tried to meditate as well. He hadn’t focused too much on the damage Wen Zhuliu might have caused and so he decided to try to do that. Despite what it felt like, his qi paths were not destroyed, burned up, or even slightly damaged. Removing the core was simply removing the energy source, apparently. All of the damage occurred within the core itself while the different pathways merely channeled the feeling of the destruction throughout his body.

He figured this was the case considering how well his body was reacting to the new core. There were no issues he could identify beforehand. And there were no issues now…besides the whole suppressed core thing. Jiang Cheng didn’t even know permanent talismans like this existed.

When meditation proved useless, Jiang Cheng switched his focus. He decided to run through different drills that didn’t require sword work. That at least felt normal and interesting. He had a few conversations with Lan Xichen about the differences in styles. Jiang Cheng taught him a few basic forms of the Jiang style and Lan Xichen retaught him the basics of the Lan style.

Besides that, he did a few workouts here and there.

"Sect Leader Jiang is very active,” Lan Xichen teased as he watched Jiang Cheng work through basic strength training exercises.

“I can’t stand being bored and sitting still for too long. There was always something for me to do in Lotus Pier,” he explained after finishing up his current set. He sat down and wiped away some of the sweat he’d managed to work up. “This is driving me insane.”

“It certainly feels like a test of wills, doesn’t it?”

Jiang Cheng scoffed. “Yeah, who will break first, us or him?”

“Hopefully him. I can’t tell what he wants or if he intends to leave us here until whatever is happening out there is over.”

“You would think he’d want to be parading us around. He said it himself: two sect leaders and three of the most capable cultivators of our generation. Wouldn’t it make sense to show the world how he captured us?”

Jiang Cheng was up again. The frustration, confusion, and general uneasiness at it all left him with a lot of bizarre pent up energy. He usually was not one to move excessively when he had too much energy but he couldn’t help it here. He began to pace.

Lan Xichen watched him, following his movements with his eyes. “It would make sense, which is why I am concerned. He must be planning something.”

“But what? What could he possibly be planning that he hasn’t already done to us?” Jiang Cheng exclaimed.

He was going stir-crazy. He needed to get out of this damn dungeon. He heard Lan Xichen sigh.

“I wish he had left me Liebing. I may not have access to my core but at least I could practice.”

Jiang Cheng tripped in his pacing. He knew they were all bored. He understood. He just also really didn’t want to tell Lan Xichen that he was suddenly thankful as fuck Wen Ruohan had confiscated all of their weapons, including their instruments. He didn’t know what he’d do if he had to listen to nothing but xiao music every day. Forget the porcelain. He’d end up bashing his head against the wall.

From the back of their cell, Lan Wangji took in a deep breath and let it out painfully slowly. It was so exaggerated that Jiang Cheng could see his shoulders and chest inflate and then deflate.

“As though you would not be practicing on Wangji if you had it,” Lan Xichen snapped.

Jiang Cheng had to stare at the wall and take in the exchange. Were they…arguing?

The Lan sect is weird.

Jiang Cheng was going to demand they communicate like normal human beings when a metallic screeching from above reverberated throughout he dungeon. Someone had come down to see them.

Lan Xichen climbed to his feet and approached the cell door.

Due to their Lan training, Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen were able to effectively tell the time. They woke up around 5, went to sleep around 9, and got hungry at specific times. Jiang Cheng used their schedule to track when their subpar meals were provided. They came about once a day in the middle of the day. Based on when they woke up and how hungry they were the three of them were able to tell it was no later than mid-to-late morning.

This was a change in the daily schedule.

Soon, the dungeon echoed with the sounds of multiple footsteps approaching them. Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen exchanged looks. This couldn’t be good. So many people meant at least two, if not all of them, were being summoned, most likely by Wen Ruohan. What could he possibly want with all three of them?

Jiang Cheng’s mind was spinning as he stepped away from the cell door towards Lan Wangji. His back may be getting better but he’s still not fully healed. He didn’t know how much he’d be able to handle.

A group of ten guards stopped in front of their cells. One of them opened Lan Xichen’s cell first. He and Lan Wangji watched as they pulled out metal cuffs. Lan Xichen held his chin high and did not fight them as his arms were pulled behind him and his wrists were cuffed together.

Only once he was secured with two soldiers holding either arm did they open Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji’s cell.

Jiang Cheng watched them closely as they approached. One of the guards Jiang Cheng recognized. It was one of the ones who escorted Jiang Cheng to the conference room where the table was. He stepped forward, arms spread and eyes constantly scanning the guards.

“He’s still healing,” Jiang Cheng said. “And he’s already cuffed, since no one decided to remove them.”

The cuffs were a point of contention for all three of them. Lan Wangji’s wrists were bruised, scuffed, and permanently reddened. Jiang Cheng had to wrap his wrists in bandages just to keep them from scratching up the skin too much. They jangled and clinked and were a general annoyance to everyone.

“Fine,” the guard said.

The guard gestured with his head. Four others moved forward. Two flanked Jiang Cheng and the other two grabbed Lan Wangji. It seemed they were willing to show mercy today because they were not more rough than they needed to be. Only once Jiang Cheng was sure Lan Wangji would be fine did he present his wrists behind him to be chained.

What happened next was something Jiang Cheng could have never predicted. Lan Xichen gasped and Jiang Cheng saw them blindfolding him.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

Of course, no one said anything.

Jiang Cheng didn’t fight because he didn’t know what would happen if he would but he did not like the idea of being blindfolded. This meant they were being taken somewhere they either didn’t know, or Wen Ruohan didn’t want them to know. What the hell were they going to be put through after what, a week, of uninterrupted nothingness?

Jiang Cheng didn’t have time to ponder it. As soon as the blindfolds were tied they set off. He decided to focus on where they were going, counting steps, paying attention to turns, listening for changes in ambiance or sounds. He couldn’t tell where they were going. Everything was silent except for their steps.

It felt like they’d been walking for an eternity before the were stopped. One by one the blindfolds were removed, and once again, they were standing in the main hall of the Scorching Sun Palace.

Jiang Cheng blinked rapidly as tears formed from the sudden change in light. Everything was bright and blurry. He could barely make out the forms of the guards, Wen Ruohan, and Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen. His eyes were still watering when someone grabbed him and pulled him forward. He jumped and struggled unconsciously before he could understand what was happening.

He was moved in front of the Lan brothers. The warm hand was back on his shoulder and it made his stomach sink. He swallowed thickly, not wanting to look to his left, where Wen Ruohan stood with his arm around Jiang Cheng’s shoulders.

“I looked into what you told me. Wei Wuxian is unavailable and will remain unavailable for the foreseeable future. The ‘mountain’ you pointed us to was indeed a mountain, though it had a distinct lack of celestial immortals.” He leaned in closer to Jiang Cheng and Jiang Cheng shuddered from the breath on his ear as he whispered, “You truly expect me to believe you trekked all the way from Lotus Pier to Yiling in your condition, Young Master Jiang?”

Jiang Cheng sucked in a breath.

Wen Ruohan continued, voice still just as quiet, meant only for Jiang Cheng to hear, “we tried to investigate how exactly you managed it. No one was able to tell us. I know you had help, most likely from someone within my sect. A traitor. As the bodies of your parents disappeared precisely around the time you did.”

The hand on his shoulder moved to the joint and squeezed, applying downward pressure. Jiang Cheng clenched his teeth. The pressure only continued to build and build and Jiang Cheng couldn’t stop the high whine from releasing as Wen Ruohan pushed on the socket. He was going to dislocate his shoulder.

Just when he thought it was going to pop, the pressure lessened somewhat. It didn’t go away. Wen Ruohan simply held him there in suspended pain. He squeezed his eyes shut as tears slid down his cheeks.

“Tell me who assisted you,” Wen Ruohan ordered.

Jiang Cheng shook his head. He didn’t know! He had no idea who they were. All he knew was that the guy wore typical Wen robes.

The pressure grew again and Jiang Cheng let out a cry as his body leaned sideways.

“I don’t know. I barely even saw them,” Jiang Cheng ground out. “Wei Wuxian was the one who got them to help us.”

In an instant the pressure was gone. Jiang Cheng gasped. His legs gave out and he would’ve collapsed to the floor if not for Wen Ruohan grabbing his now aching arm and forcing him up.

“You rely on Wei Wuxian a lot, Young Master Jiang. He is the one who got you out, who arranged your care, and arranged a new core for you.”

“What about it,” Jiang Cheng demanded quickly, voice thick and shaky through the tears. Gods he was crying so much these days. It was pathetic. He sniffled and wiped his face on his shoulders.

Wen Ruohan didn’t respond. Instead, he moved around Jiang Cheng and faced Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen, who’d been forced to watch what had occurred. Lan Xichen was staring with hardened eyes and thin lips. Lan Wangji was looking away.

“Apologies for the delay. There was business I needed to address before we proceeded,” Wen Ruohan explained lightly, as though he hadn’t almost permanently injured Jiang Cheng.

“Why are we here?” Lan Xichen asked. “What is it you want from us?”

“I asked myself that same question many times in the last week. What has occurred up until this point was indeed punishment worthy of the crimes committed in the past. Unfortunately, from what I have seen and learned, allowing you three to leave is too much of a liability. I considered killing you. Making you an example to the other sects. But Young Master Jiang is already quite the example, wouldn’t you think?”

Lan Xichen’s gaze wavered over from Wen Ruohan, to Jiang Cheng, then back to Wen Ruohan. “So?” He pushed.

“I have punished both of your sects for your crimes against the Wen sect. That is more than enough to teach the others what the consequences of further actions might be. Then I thought killing you would simply solve a problem I could not bring myself to care about. I would have enjoyed it as well, breaking you steadfast Lans down bit by bit until you were begging for death.”

Jiang Cheng frowned as he listened. Where was this going? Why go through all the theatrics? He didn’t think Wen Ruohan would be the type for villainous speeches.

“Then, I went to Lotus Pier. I discovered something I myself have found interesting, and I think all of us would be curious to hear from Young Master Jiang…” He turned suddenly back to Jiang Cheng and didn’t continue. Confused, Jiang Cheng looked up at him. “Tell us your experience in Lotus Pier, after you lost your core.”

Jiang Cheng went wide eyed. His mouth dropped open. He reared back.

“You…what?”

“I want you to explain to Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji your futures here as my prisoners.”

Jiang Cheng gasped and shook his head wildly. He looked to Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji who merely seemed confused. “No…no please—I…”

How could Wen Ruohan expect him to tell them? He knew already. Why couldn’t he say it? He shook his head again. Wen Ruohan still stared at him expectantly. He was going to make him do it.

“Please…”

Jiang Cheng couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. The walls were closing in. His body was growing weaker. Hands were all over him. Touching him. Moving him. Voices were talking, laughing, joking overhead. He was choking. He can’t breathe.

“He’s panicking!” he heard Lan Xichen shout from somewhere far away.

Something was touching him and someone was murmuring something in his ear. The hands gripped his shoulders and rubbed and squeezed as though they were massaging him. Jiang Cheng focused on that. The physical sensations. He wasn’t there anymore. The pain wasn’t there. His chest and sides and body weren’t on fire and he wasn’t choking on anything. No one was laughing above him, saying how pathetic he was, brought so low by his own choices, how they’d love to get their hands on his sister and do the same thing to her.

The murmuring in his ear became clearer. The voice was soft and calm and steady. It repeated an endless stream of promises and support. How this time was going to be different. Jiang Cheng didn’t have to be in pain and used by so many. How easy it would be and he wouldn’t be alone this time.

He gulped in air like a drowning man resurfacing.

He finally was able to see clearly again. Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji both were being held back by guards. He watched them with a new understanding. The horror of it all stabbed at him and made him want to be sick.

“You can do it. Tell them. Don’t you want them to be prepared, Wanyin? Don’t they deserve to know?”

Jiang Cheng could breathe again but the breaths came in quick gasps. No matter what he did it wasn’t enough. He shook his head. He didn’t want them to know. He hadn’t intended on telling anyone what had happened. Even Wei Wuxian couldn’t understand why Jiang Cheng was on his deathbed back then. Jiang Cheng couldn’t bring himself to tell him.

“Then they’ll go on blind. They won’t know anything about what will happen to them. They’ll have to watch each other and you be taken without knowing to make it easier or how to make it so it doesn’t hurt.”

The voice was relentless. Wen Ruohan was relentless. The pressure was building again, up and up and up, never leaving his side. His breaths were still coming fast and Jiang Cheng knew Wen Ruohan would get impatient soon enough.

He swallowed loudly and tried to clear his throat.

“Very good. You can do it,” Wen Ruohan encouraged.

Why was he doing this? Why was he making Jiang Cheng do this? It was cruel. Was it punishment for the wild goose chase he sent him on? That wasn’t fair.

His breath was on Jiang Cheng’s ear again. “Go on,” he whispered.

Jiang Cheng stared at them. He felt something inside him shift. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t stop it even if he wanted to. Wen Ruohan was going to make him tell them. Wen Ruohan was going to rape him. There was nothing he could do.

The thought was almost calming as the realization struck him. It felt as though he were floating away. He was watching himself from far away as the words began to leave him.

“After I lost my core and was whipped, Wen Chao announced he was finished with me. I was thrown into a cell and was going to be left there to rot or until Wen Chao decided he wanted me dead. Him not being interested anymore meant he didn’t care what happened to me afterwards. The soldiers stationed there to guard me grew bored. And they grew bold.”

Jiang Cheng was stuck between three places, here and now in the palace, there in Lotus Pier reliving it all, and in some odd third place, watching himself retell it.

“One of the guards started it off. He insulted me, said humiliating and demeaning things. Then the other brought up my family, and how much I looked like my mom. Then the first one asked if I fucked like her. The second said they should find out. They forced themselves upon me. Then more came and saw what was occurring and decided to join in. They wouldn’t let me pass out. When I began to drift or black out they beat me or choked me. They made me bleed. And when they finished with their fun, I was left there, unable to move, bleeding out and covered in their spend, waiting for death.”

Lan Xichen’s eyes were wide in horror. Jiang Cheng could see them beginning to water. Lan Wangji’s ears were red and he’d closed his eyes, unable to face Jiang Cheng while he described his torture.

Jiang Cheng’s cheeks were wet.

“Well done, Wanyin,” Wen Ruohan said once he was finished. To all three of them he continued, “your roles will not be nearly as violent as what was done to Wanyin, if you behave and do as you’re told. You will learn to appreciate following my orders and what we do together.”

Lan Xichen choked. “You mean—we…”

“Your first lesson begins now.”

He grabbed Jiang Cheng and threw him to the ground in front of them and placed a foot on his neck. Jiang Cheng froze. There wasn’t pressure being applied. Yet.

Lan Xichen seemed to understand the situation as his eyes narrowed into a hateful glare.

“What do you want us to do?” He asked in a low, dangerous tone.

“Lan Xichen, kiss Lan Wangji.”

No one said or did anything for a few moments as the order stunned all three of them. Lan Wangji slowly looked up and glanced between Lan Xichen and Wen Ruohan. All of the bravado Lan Xichen had was suddenly gone.

“What?” he asked, sounding like nothing more than a scared child.

“This is your lesson. You will follow an order the first time I say it as soon as I have said it. If you do not, one of you will be punished. Lan Xichen, kiss Lan Wangji.”

Lan Xichen glanced down to where the foot rested on Jiang Cheng’s neck. “I—I…” he stuttered. Jiang Cheng couldn’t blame him. This was absurd. Even as the foot began to press down, he understood.

“How long before Wanyin dies?” Wen Ruohan questioned no one in particular. He was proving a point.

“Xiongzhang…” Lan Wangji called softly.

“I don’t…I can’t. You can’t expect me to do this. We’re family. Wangji and I. We’re brothers.”

Jiang Cheng coughed and wheezed and then nothing could escape or enter his airway as the foot pressed against his trachea.

“How long?” Wen Ruohan asked again.

Jiang Cheng was a strong swimmer and had learned to hold his breath for nearly a ké with his core. Without it, he had probably less than a third. All too quickly the supply ran out. He chest was beginning to burn. He needed air.

“Do not make me repeat myself.”

Lan Xichen shook his head, looking wildly between Jiang Cheng and his brother. “I can’t.”

“Then it seems the Jiang Sect ends here and now.”

“Xiongzhang,” Lan Wangji called again, voice almost desperate.

Jiang Cheng was beginning to struggle as black spots danced across his vision. Everything burned. He tried to throw Wen Ruohan off but nothing worked.

Lan Xichen turned to his brother a final time. They looked at each other in silent conversation. Lan Xichen didn’t have a choice. Lan Wangji leaned in, open and welcoming for his brother.

Lan Xichen leaned in too. Lips a breath away from lips. Then, Lan Xichen pressed in against Lan Wangji’s mouth in a soft, gentle kiss. As soon as he did it he backed away. Wen Ruohan lifted his foot. Jiang Cheng coughed and sputtered and gasped. Lan Xichen watched Wen Ruohan with a heated glare.

“Well done,” Wen Ruohan said in congratulations. Lan Xichen tracked his movements, still glaring, as Wen Ruohan began to make his exit. “Set up a room in my wing. Leave them in the dungeon until it’s prepared. When it’s finished, I expect them to be properly prepped and in my room in…” his voice faded as he disappeared down the hallway, leaving the three of them alone with the guards and their own thoughts.

They were unceremoniously thrown back into their cells, this time with Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen together and Jiang Cheng alone, to wait for their allotted time with Wen Ruohan.

None of them said anything. Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji kept their distance from each other, sitting on opposite sides of the cell. Lan Xichen occasionally pressed his fingers to his lips. Jiang Cheng watched them, still feeling like he was floating, not fully present in the moment.

After a while Lan Wangji finally spoke up. “Tell us what to expect,” he said.

Jiang Cheng didn’t respond at first. There were a multitude of things he could say and warn them about. It took him a while to land on the first thing they needed to know.

“You shouldn’t struggle,” he said eventually, voice sounding hollow even to his own ears. “Struggling makes it worse. When he enters you, don’t clench. You’ll want to, at first, because it’ll feel weird and will probably hurt. But don’t. It’ll only make everything worse. If you can prep yourself in any way you can, do it. It’ll make everything easier. If he has you suck him off, before you take him into your mouth, breathe in slowly through your throat and let it stay open as you breathe out. It’ll help with the choking. No teeth. Create suction by sucking your cheeks in and squeezing them. Let the saliva develop and pool to make your mouth wet. It’ll make him finish faster. Do what he says.”

Jiang Cheng took in a deep breath before continuing on.

“Whatever you do, don’t listen to what he says to and about you. If you let him in, it’ll fuck with your head and you’ll find yourself getting lost in it. You’re going to hear all kinds of things. You can’t let it get to you.”

He paused, fighting against the emotions bubbling up from what he was about to say. It was harder than he thought to say these things. It was especially harder when he didn’t believe them. He continued.

“My mother once told me that these sorts of things men do, do not reflect poorly on you, it reflects poorly on them. You are not shameful for having this be done to you. And, if you become…interested because of what’s being done to you, that’s normal. It’s the body’s natural response to it. You’re going to feel things and experience things and probably learn things you didn’t want to. If you can derive pleasure from it, fine. If you can actually enjoy it, that’s even better. Regardless, it’s not your fault. It’s not shameful. It’s humiliating. But you won’t be able to help it so it’s better to accept that reality now than fight with it in the moment.”

“I’m sorry you know all of this,” Lan Xichen said bitterly once it was clear Jiang Cheng was finished. “No one should need to learn any of this.”

“No…I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’re going to have to go through this.”

“You say we’re not the shameful ones…but aren’t we? I just kissed…” He pressed his fingers to his lips again.

Jiang Cheng shook his head. “You didn’t want to do it. You were forced to. You’re probably going to have to do a lot more, to each other and to me. You’re going to have to get over it.”

“How?” Lan Wangji asked.

Jiang Cheng shrugged. He thought, for the first time in his entire life, about what it would be like to do anything like this with his sister. In theory, he’d trust her. It would be awkward and mortifying and honestly Jiang Cheng probably wouldn’t even be able to get it up. But he’d be in it together with her. They’d make it through because, well, it was his sister.

“You’ll be fine,” he said eventually. “It’ll suck in the moment, but you’ll have each other. There’s no one else in the world you trust or who knows you both quite like you do. So long as you remember this isn’t you, you didn’t want this, and you’re not shameful for it, you’ll be fine.”

“…And what about you?” Lan Xichen asked.

Jiang Cheng let a humorless laugh. “Aren’t I already shameful? It’s easy to say not to let them get into your head. It’s harder when you already believe what they’re saying.”

None of them said anything. They simply sat there in their cells and did what they had for the past week: wait for Wen Ruohan to do something to them.

Chapter Text

Jiang Cheng’s first impression when the blindfold was removed was, as far as prison cells went, this one was probably the best one he’d ever been kept in, besides the ocean of red.

It took maybe two shí for someone to finally come down to pull one of them from the cells. The first to be taken was Jiang Cheng, leaving Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji in their cell together. Jiang Cheng figured this was to force them to ruminate together, alone, on what their future entailed. Force them to adjust to it, make their peace with it, as if they ever could.

Jiang Cheng thought it was disgusting. His little thought exercise with his sister made his stomach churn. The longer he sat there in silence with the Lan brothers, the more he truly considered what he would do in their situation. Again, he found himself wanting to go for the ceramic pot.

He was once more blindfolded and dragged through the palace until they finally reached the room that was to be his. The room was somewhat big as far as guest rooms went. A large bed probably big enough to comfortably fit two people sat in the center of the wall. Across from it was another room with a tub and vanity. Turning the corner was another entire section of the room. There was a low tea table with four cushions in the center. A desk with shelving on either side was built into the wall itself. On the far end was an ornate privacy screen with a wardrobe next to it.

What stood out the most, however, besides the distinct lack of possible weapons, was the intense overwhelming presence of red. Lotus Pier maintained purple or lotus accents, sure, but this was ridiculous. The silk bedding was a deep red. The curtains throughout the room were thin and light, almost pink in color. The cushions were apple red with delicate embroidery. The wood itself was stained a deep crimson.

Jiang Cheng felt as though he were being swallowed whole by the color.

Though, that could also have been because of the drugs. Before they took off the blindfold and restraints, a meaty hand covered his mouth and a jar of some sort was placed right beneath his nose. By the time he realized what the sickly nauseating scent was, his head had already grown light and his body grew numb. He fell into the person holding him. They dragged him into the bathing room.

After that, time moved strangely as the world and his thoughts dissolved into blurry masses of color and shapes and movement. At some points everything moved fast, like when the bath was run and different bottles and tools were collected. At times everything moved slowly, like when they massaged his body before shaving him head to toe. He felt the familiar tingle of a talisman being placed onto him. It was cool and made him shiver despite the heat of the bathroom.

After his bath, he was dressed in a fine silk robe. He could tell expensive quality of the material. It loosely draped his frame and felt feather light, almost liquid against his newly smooth and soft skin. His hair was done in a surprisingly simple low ponytail with the length of it twisted and secured with a pin. No other adornments such as jewelry or makeup decorated him.

He would’ve expected someone like Wen Ruohan to enjoy opulence and jewelry and expensive makeup to go along with the fine scents and oiled skin. He figured that was one thing he and Jin Guangshan had in common, but that appeared to not be the case.

Towards the end of his preparation, some feeling returned to Jiang Cheng’s body. He could twitch his fingers and shift his legs. The fog in his head began to clear. This is when he finally understood what he’d been drugged with. It was a muscle relaxant that was mixed with a compatible drug that dulled the senses.

And it was breathed right back in as soon as the people fussing about him realized he was coming to.

Once more he was made chemically useless. He was laid on the bed and left there to stare blankly at the ceiling. Then, Lan Xichen was brought in. Jiang Cheng couldn’t see anything. He only knew it was Lan Xichen by the concern in his voice once he’d been made aware of Jiang Cheng’s presence. Jiang Cheng tried to move his lips and force his tongue to cooperate but he couldn’t feel anything. His entire body was staticky and numb.

Time moved strangely again as he heard Lan Xichen receive the same treatment as him. The sounds were bizarre. The water sloshing in the bath sounded both far away and right next to him. The slathering of oil on skin was both slow and sticky and fast and slick. The sinking weight when Lan Xichen was laid on the bed next to him made it feel like Jiang Cheng were falling from a cliff.

Both of them were drugged once more as Lan Wangji was brought in.

Somewhere amongst all of this happening, Jiang Cheng couldn’t help but think, being drugged this much must be bad for your health. The fog was too strong for the thought to last too long and he once more drifted.

The final touch to their outfits were collars. Each one was identical. Jiang Cheng saw his before it dipped below his chin and out of his line of sight. It was thick, black, and made of supple leather. He felt it clasp and tighten around him, but he couldn’t feel the clasp itself. His mind tried to understand it but once again the drug clouded his thoughts making it impossible to focus.

For a third and final time, Jiang Cheng came down from the drug. His previous concern was proven correct. It was not healthy for someone to be drugged so many times.

Coming down felt worse than the worst hangover, the days after an endurance session with his mother, and worse than that first day waking up after saving Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji from the cave, all combined. His body was almost painfully heavy. It took all of his energy just to try to lift his head.

Oh, his head.

His head ached with a nauseating sharp tightness in the front, back, and sides, all the way down his neck and into his shoulders. His vision swam. The pain was so much after not feeling anything at all that it made him cry out.

His brain fog finally cleared as well. Although the pain made thinking almost twice as difficult as the drug had.

He heard someone talking to another person quietly and the other person responding but he couldn’t make out what was said.

Once it had gone quiet again a jar moved into his periphery vision and Jiang Cheng let out a sob. “No, please. No more,” he begged. He knew he sounded pathetic but he couldn’t be drugged again. He couldn’t.

The person cared little for what he wanted and once more shoved a jar under his nose. Jiang Cheng tried not to breathe it in. He didn’t want to. He couldn’t. He didn’t know what it would do to him. But the person wasn’t moving and he was only human. Tears welled in his eyes as his lungs burned and struggled to take in air. He was forced to give in and he greedily sucked in the air permeated by whatever scent was in the jar.

This time the scent was almost odorless. If he really tried to smell it, he could catch a hint of petrichor or fresh rushing river water. Water? Had he smelled water?

Whatever it was he’d smelled, it did the opposite of the drug. The pain began to dissipate along with the heaviness and dizziness. The more he breathed it in, the better he felt. He relaxed into the bed with a sigh through his nose.

“Sorry about that,” one of the voices from earlier said. “It’s not possible to overdose or cause a buildup, but some are more sensitive to it than others. We’ll have to take note of that for the future.”

The future. He would be drugged in the future.

It was in this moment Jiang Cheng remembered what was going to happen to him, to them, and why he’d been dressed up and oiled like chicken being prepared to fry. He sat up quickly and looked around the room again.

Multiple guards were at the entrance to the only door leading out of the room, the bathroom door, and the window on the far wall. There was nothing he’d be able to use for weapons and he’d been stripped after he was drugged, meaning they probably found the ceramic shard. Fighting his way out would be stupid, anyhow. These people clearly had access to their cores.

He tried to speak but found his mouth impossibly dry. He looked around for something to drink only to be handed a wooden bottle.

“Yes it can also cause dry mouth. Again, apologies. We did not expect you to have such an adverse reaction. It happens to perhaps one in every thousand.”

Jiang Cheng took the bottle and gulped down the water while glaring at…whoever the fuck this person was. He sounded knowledgeable—maybe an herbalist or apothecary or doctor. He didn’t have a weapon on him but that didn’t mean anything. After all, Wen Zhuliu didn’t need a weapon, did he?

He finished the bottle and handed it back to the man. He was glad all of a sudden that he hadn’t been put in makeup because if he had, it definitely would’ve been ruined, forcing him to go through that ordeal all over again. He wiped his mouth and chin and cleared his throat.

“Who are you?”

The man laughed. “No one important. Do not concern yourself with me. I’m just a doctor here.”

“Then why are you here?”

His voice sounded despondent even to him. He couldn’t bring himself to put any emotion or feeling into the words. He felt exhausted despite not doing anything for a week except for mild exercise.

The man gestured to the jars on a side table by the door. “To ensure everything went smoothly. You were a dream, Jiang Wanyin.”

Jiang Cheng scrunched his nose at that. Barely a sect leader, and a sect heir for his entire life. Already he’s been stripped of his titles with only one word from Wen Ruohan. He clenched his hand in the alarmingly red sheets.

Still, would it not be more shameful to be called even “Young Master” in a position such as his? It would sully the title, no doubt.

He glanced over Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji who had been placed next to him on the bed. He was wrong before. The bed could apparently fit three people. This was their room. They were to live together in one room. He tried not to feel too strange about it as he remembered the other reason they were here together.

He turned back to the doctor. “Do you have oil I can use?”

He knew oils were used on his body but there was a difference between oils safe to be placed on the body, in the body, and utility oils. He’d rather not have another “adverse reaction” to something.

“Ah…” the man intoned. Jiang Cheng figured the answer was no. “I’m afraid My Lord does not wish you…” the man trailed off at Jiang Cheng’s pinched expression.

Jiang Cheng took in a few harsh breaths. Not even allowed to prep himself. How was that fair? Was he going to be taken dry? Was he going to be bled once more? Didn’t the bastard say Jiang Cheng wouldn’t be made to hurt like he’d been before?

He wanted to laugh at how naïve he was, willing to take the man at his word just for the hope of it not hurting.

He laid back down. He wanted to curl up and hide again but it was impossible. Lan Xichen to his left and those dogs to his right. There was nowhere to hide. He closed his eyes and grabbed one of the many pillows at the head of the bed to curl around.

“Do not despair. My Lord was very clear about our instructions. He most likely will want a show.”

If anything, that made Jiang Cheng feel worse. He wanted to be able to prepare himself in peace. He didn’t want eyes on him. He didn’t want anyone to see him fall so low as to ready himself for something he hadn’t even considered an option as a child.

It was once more a child’s fantasy, the desire to be allowed to coddle himself.

He wasn’t a cut sleeve. He knew, in theory, butt stuff could feel good, pleasurable. He’d heard talk and seen books. He wasn’t uninformed. He’d just never considered it.

It made his blood boil from more than just anger that his only experimentation with it was being assaulted after losing his core. That he was made to feel things—good things—after it was all over disgusted him.

“And if he doesn’t?” A hard voice spoke up from his left. It startled Jiang Cheng. He hadn’t known Lan Xichen was coming around. “What should we do then?”

The silence from the doctor was loud. Lan Xichen huffed out a sardonic laugh through his nose.

“You are a doctor. Of course you cannot suggest not using oil. The damage would naturally be severe.”

Jiang Cheng clenched his eyes and the pillow tighter. Images flashed through his mind’s eye. Him, on a bed in Yiling. The constant warm sticky wetness soiling the borrowed robes and the bed due to the tearing. The searing pain in his thighs, hips, and ass.

Amongst it all was the odd thought that Lan Xichen was sounding more and more bitter as time went on. Jiang Cheng hoped it wouldn’t last. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle living with someone just as negative as him.

“Spit and blood can work,” Jiang Cheng muttered into the pillow. “Just not as effective, from what I’ve heard.”

This was true. Once Jiang Cheng started bleeding, the pain became manageable. No longer was the intrusion itself painful. It was the tearing. And that searing was easily ignorable once hands were on you or the most sensitive parts inside you were rubbed against. A phantom shudder from the memory of past pleasure mixed with pain rolled through him and something warmed in his belly.

If the pillow he were clutching were a real person he was sure he’d be suffocating them.

“Jiang Wanyin is correct. This method will require healing, however. It is generally discouraged,” the doctor said.

If Wen Ruohan cared about what and how they felt, Jiang Cheng silently tacked on.

He knew the reality of their situation. They would only be healed or treated if Wen Ruohan wanted them to be. They would receive care and comfort only if Wen Ruohan allowed it. If they were good, his mind supplied him. Even if they weren’t good, he immediately followed with. Regardless, it all went through him.

The phantom pleasure was gone, once more replaced with that yawning pit of despair from earlier; he welcomed it with open arms.

Lan Xichen sighed, seemingly reaching the same conclusions as him. Jiang Cheng felt upward movement towards the head of the bed. Lan Xichen must’ve sat up and was resting against it.

Lan Wangji had yet to say anything but Jiang Cheng honestly doubted he would.

Somewhere to his right Jiang Cheng heard the telltale signs of the doctor beginning to pack up his things. The doctor shuffled around, picking up jars, placing them here or there. Lan Xichen didn’t move or say anything so Jiang Cheng figured he was watching him or observing the room or whatever else the First Jade did when mentally preparing for rape.

“So now we wait?” Lan Xichen asked eventually. “Until what? Wen Ruohan calls upon us?”

“My Lord is a busy man. He will request your presence when he wishes for it.”

Lan Xichen sucked in a deep breath through his nose, the sound harsh with a slight whistle. He did not say anything else. Jiang Cheng thought they were thinking the same thing or at least feeling a similar sentiment: they were stuck waiting at a man’s beck and call. Jiang Cheng almost thought it would be funny if he were told to roll over or be given a treat for behaving so well. Almost.

“…perhaps this is inappropriate to say, but I truly hope I do not have to see the three of you again for some time. Rest well…and…I am sorry.”

With that, the door opened and the sounds of multiple footsteps leaving sounded on the wooden floor. Then the door was closed.

Jiang Cheng knew what the doctor meant. He didn’t want them to get too injured by doing something stupid. He hoped Wen Ruohan wouldn’t be too cruel to them. It still infuriated him to hear.

He shoved his head further into the pillow and let out a helpless scream. It wouldn’t do anything and it was quite pathetic, but Jiang Cheng couldn’t bring himself to care, not when the other two people in the room were about to see him at his lowest, and him them.

“What was the talisman placed upon us?” The deep voice of Lan Wangji asked from the other side of the bed. “They did not remove it when they were finished.”

“Who knows? Perhaps if we were lucid enough we might have been able to see it and guess at its function,” Lan Xichen responded.

“It’s not for lubrication, that’s for sure,” Jiang Cheng muttered. His voice came out muffled from where he was still pressing into the pillow.

He heard and felt movement as the bed shifted away from him.

“Are you alright Wangji? Can you move?” Lan Xichen asked.

He must have crawled over to Lan Wangji.

“Mn. Feeling is returning,” his brother responded.

Jiang Cheng emerged from his hiding place. He turned and watched the brothers. Lan Xichen was fussing over Lan Wangji, helping him test his movement. As he watched them, something inside him twisted with acidic jealousy. No one would be comforting him. His sister wasn’t here for that nor was Wei Wuxian. He was alone in this while they had each other. This feeling within him at least was familiar.

He wanted to comment on it for nothing more than being allowed to gripe while he could. Still, he bit his tongue. There was no point in creating even worse enemies of two of the three men he was about to spend all of his time with.

There was a wrongness as he watched them that couldn’t be ignored. Flashes of white amidst red. They wore their forehead ribbons still but nothing else remained of their Lan heritage and identity.

Their robes were just as alarmingly red as everything else in this cursed room. Lan Xichen’s was light red silk with delicate swooshing flames embroidered throughout it. Lan Wangji wore a darker, more cherry red, robe with white and black spider lilies sewn into the ends of the robes. Jiang Cheng’s was closer to a reddish-purple color, as though the robes were originally red then dyed again with a light purple. Flowers connected to loose branches in white thread dotted his robes.

Lan Wangji’s long hair was left mostly down which was a surprise if Jiang Cheng were to be honest. He expected an elaborate updo. Instead half of his hair sat in a low bun with the rest left to cascade down his back along with his forehead ribbon.

It was Lan Xichen who was given the elaborate updo. Three separate buns all connected by a winding strand of long hair sat lower on his neck, allowing his ribbon to tie just above the hairdo and fall around it. An elaborate pin sat in the center, securing it all. It was the only adornment any of them wore besides the collars and Jiang Cheng’s hair pin.

All of their skin was smooth and dewy thanks to the shaving and the oil. Jiang Cheng was never one to shy away from the feeling of oil as he cared for his sword almost obsessively and took care of his hair. But this was too much. He felt like he did that one time when, while fighting with Wei Wuxian and rolling around on the floor, they knocked over a bottle of sword oil and it spilled all over him.

Once Lan Xichen had fussed as much as he could he once more sat back against the head of the bed. All three of them stared off into space, not wanting to meet each other’s eyes and not wanting to address the situation. Jiang Cheng was fine with that. He could’ve slept if not for the anticipation and the remnants of the drugs in his system making him feel ill.

“I know none of us wish to speak of what is going to occur, but I would like to say something,” Lan Xichen said sometime later just as Jiang Cheng was beginning to snooze. He didn’t know why he bothered to make an announcement. It’s not like they were going anywhere or doing anything. He continued, “I want us to promise that, no matter what occurs, it is the three of us in this situation together. We have…experienced how Wen Ruohan intends to take advantage of us and our natures. We will each have our difficulties. I want us to swear we will not hold whatever happens against each other and will be able to rely on each other throughout our experiences.”

Jiang Cheng frowned, sitting up at this. “Lan Xichen, I hold no hard feelings for what happened earlier. I never would’ve expected something like that to be easy.”

Lan Xichen glanced at Lan Wangji then him. “I am saying this more for the two of you. Though, I appreciate your candor.”

“Xiongzhang,” Lan Wangji…chided? “What are you suggesting?”

The three of them now sat in an awkward triangle with Lan Xichen at the head with Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji on either side of him. A wide berth of space was left in the middle between them.

“I am merely…suggesting…that you two have had…intense feelings in the past and that moving forward, it would be in your best interest to accept each other and whatever happens next.”

Jiang Cheng blinked. “Are you fucking talking about the cave right now?”

“I am—”

“The cave is so far back it’s not even funny. I don’t care about the damn cave anymore.”

“And yet you are shouting already.”

Jiang Cheng rounded on Lan Wangji. “I wasn’t talking to you, asshole. And yeah, I am, because I’m pissed off.”

“Jiang Wanyin did not inform us of necessary information which resulted in me getting whipped,” Lan Wangji argued. “We would not be here if not for you.”

“Are you insane? Maybe take a lesson from your brother’s book and realize it was none of your damn business what happened to me! It had nothing to do with the mission!”

Lan Xichen closed his eyes and lowered his head. This realistically is what he’d been hoping to avoid. Granted, it was better to get this out now rather than later.

“Let’s not forget,” Jiang Cheng continued. He’d been wanting to vent. He’d been good keeping his emotions bottled up but Lan Wangji managed to hit all of the right buttons. The words tumbled out of him like a flood from a burst dam. “You didn’t even fucking thank me for rescuing you. I ran all the way from the cave to Yunmeng, flew back to the cave, and dug through their barricade to get you out. And then my father and I ensured you had an entourage and a spare sword to protect you and to fly you back to Cloud Recesses so you didn’t have to walk on your broken leg. I’m the one who decided to bring the spare sword for you, not my father. And you didn’t even thank me. Yeah, I got you whipped. Fine. But I didn’t know what Wen Ruohan was going to do yet! And, I treated your wounds!”

“You would not have rescued me, had Wei Ying not been there. You should have told us,” Lan Wangji maintained.

“MY FAMILY WOULDN’T BE DEAD AND MY SECT WOULDN’T BE DESTROYED IF IT WEREN’T FOR YOU! I WOULDN’T HAVE LOST MY CORE IF YOU COULD’VE TAKEN CARE OF YOURSELF INSTEAD OF INVOLVING WEI WUXIAN IN THE FIRST PLACE!”

Lan Wangji reared back. Jiang Cheng knew he was being vicious but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about what Lan Xichen wanted either. He couldn’t pretend everything was fine when Lan Wangji was blaming him of all people for everything when it was his fault.

Lan Wangji’s face became positively expressive with angled brows above narrowed, glaring eyes when he recovered from the shock. “You are not the only person here who has lost a parent. You are not the only person whose sect was destroyed,” he seethed.

“You already lost your father when he went into seclusion. Mine was alive and well!”

“Enough!” Lan Xichen shouted. “This is what I mean. Regardless of the past, we three are stuck here. Together. We will be forced to survive this. Together. You two will most likely be forced to do things. Together.”

“Yes but—”

“It is Wen Ruohan and the Wen sect which has done the things you both have brought up. None of this would have happened had Wen Rouhan not been given unchecked power. Regardless, we are here now. There is nothing to do but survive it. So, Jiang Wanyin. Wangji. I suggest we follow what Jiang Wanyin said earlier, and get over it.”

Jiang Cheng lowered his head and looked away, feeling properly chastised. He went for the low blow and it wasn’t fair but they weren’t being fair to him either. Lan Xichen was right. They were all prisoners regardless of what led them to being captured. There was no other way but through. Together.

Calming down a bit he couldn’t help feeling a little ridiculous. Here they were, dressed like concubines, in a room dripping in garish red, and arguing about situations none of them had control over.

“Now then, do you have anything to say for yourselves.”

“I apologize,” Lan Wangji said sincerely, immediately.

“Not to me, Wangji,” Lan Xichen guided not unkindly.

Jiang Cheng raised his head to look at Lan Wangji. He didn’t want to have to cooperate with him…but weren’t they already going to do that? Lan Wangji volunteered to help look for Wei Wuxian when everyone else laughed at him and called the mission pointless.

“I apologize,” Lan Wangji repeated, voice harder and gaze not softening.

Despite the insincerity, Jiang Cheng knew if they didn’t do this, life would be infinitely more difficult in the coming months. He sighed. The anger was fading once more into the emptiness.

Why did it matter who did what when and what caused which thing first? They were stuck here. All three of them had damaged or hardly existing sects and no parents.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things. My initial point still stands, though.” He held up a hand when Lan Xichen immediately opened his mouth to tell him to shut the fuck up. “You never thanked me. You don’t know I would’ve just left you there. Maybe I would’ve, maybe not. You’re making assumptions. My other point still stands as well. Why should I have needed to tell you what the Wen did to me? Why was it your business?”

“It was not…and I should not have insisted it was. My point stands as well. Once you knew, you should have informed us.”

“What should I have said? Oh by the way, while we’re being dragged away to our doom, just thought I should let you know I lost my core and got a new one so maybe let’s try to escape right now?”

Lan Wangji simply stared…because apparently yes, that is what he would have wanted Jiang Cheng to say and do. Even Lan Xichen seemed to understand that wasn’t a viable option at the time as he hid his face in his hand.

“Wangji…that’s not…”

“That’s the most unrealistic thing I’ve ever heard you say. What the fuck. Should I have told you how I was raped too? Would that have made you feel any better, Lan Wangji?”

Lan Wangji turned away as he said, “no, that would have been unnecessary.”

“Thank gods we agree on something,” Jiang Cheng muttered.

Lan Xichen snorted, then covered his mouth with wide, shocked eyes as both Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji eyed him reproachfully.

“I apologize. I just…the image of us being caught and taken to the Sun Scorching Palace while Jiang Wanyin suddenly and inexplicably begins to go on a tirade about cores and being captured himself…it was too much…”

At that, Jiang Cheng snorted too, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of it. “Could you imagine the guards who caught us hearing that? They think we’re defeated and upset and scared out of our minds and then I start ranting out of nowhere about how I was whipped and lost my core and got a new one.”

Lan Xichen clenched his eyes shut and pressed his hand against his mouth while his shoulders began to shake. Lan Wangji too shut his eyes in an attempt to master his emotions.

“Us arguing over it…” Lan Wangji added while biting his lips to try to keep from smiling.

Lan Xichen snorted again and Jiang Cheng barked out a sudden laugh. They devolved from there into barely contained giggles.

“Y-you lost your core? And…and…and you’re only telling us n-now?” Jiang Cheng wheezed out between suppressed laughs.

“H-how dare you not inform us immediately!” Lan Xichen cried. “You should be whipped for it!”

That’s what did it for Jiang Cheng. He fell over laughing, clutching his stomach as his face turned progressively more red. Lan Xichen fell back against the headboard with a loud thunk and held his head as his eyes began to tear up. Lan Wangji released soft nearly silent huffs of amusement while covering his face, half bent over.

It was truly absurd. The entire situation was absurd. And they were no older than twenty two. They were just kids, boys, thrown into a world with less than half of the experience as their enemy. They were facing a worse fate than any of them could have predicted. And here they were, laughing, because what else was there to do?

“Oh gods,” Jiang Cheng moaned into the bedding. “I get it now. Wei Wuxian used to go on and on about how funny you were, Lan Wangji, and I didn’t believe it. I get it now.”

Lan Wangji sniffled. “I did not intend for that to be the image,” he responded, voice breathy and strained.

“I’m sure you didn’t but that’s what it would’ve been,” Lan Xichen said as he wiped at his eyes.

“I can’t stop thinking about what the guards faces would’ve been,” Jiang Cheng said.

“Forget the guards, imagine Wen Ruohan!” Lan Xichen cried.

Jiang Cheng snorted violently before falling into laughter once more. The image was simply too good. They’ve been captured, about to meet their doom, their captor sitting above them high on his throne. He expects to see three distinguished young men of the gentry proud and barely containing their rage. Instead, he’d watch dubiously as they entered the palace shouting and fighting one another. Jiang Cheng would yell at Lan Wangji about how being raped and tortured and losing his core was none of his business while Lan Wangji chided him for not telling them sooner. Amidst it all, Lan Xichen would be trying to calm them down. None of them would’ve been attempting to escape, far too wrapped up in Jiang Cheng’s revelations and their arguments.

Wen Ruohan’s face would’ve been priceless. Jiang Cheng almost wished they could go back in time just so he could play out such a scene.

Finally they began to calm down after the last bout of laughter. No one said anything else as they tried to fix themselves up again. Jiang Cheng got up and searched for a cloth of some sort to wipe at their faces. Lan Xichen nursed his head and tried to fix the pin that had been dislodged by the impact. Lan Wangji was trying and failing to help. At the same time Jiang Cheng searched for the water bottle but it seemed the doctor took it with him.

He decided to search the room to try to find cups or a pitcher for water. The tea table housed nothing and the shelves only held books and trinkets like decorative fans and masks. There were no spare cups. No burners or anything of that nature. No containers. Not even an ink well. How were they supposed to function in here?

He returned with a damp towel to help clean their faces up. After cleaning himself he climbed back onto the bed and handed the towel off to Lan Wangji who began dabbing at his face.

“What were you looking for?” Lan Xichen questioned.

“A cup or—something that could feasibly hold water, but there’s nothing. The room is practically empty.”

“That’s not surprising. Wen Ruohan is an intelligent man. He must know we would do whatever we could to create weapons to defend ourselves,” Lan Xichen responded.

That didn’t make sense to Jiang Cheng. He’d experienced firsthand what it was like to be faced with Wen Ruohan’s strength when coreless. There was no way they’d be able to fight against him, even if it would be three on one. Would they be able to earn certain comforts like spare cups?

“To not provide cups seems excessive,” Lan Wangji commented.

The scene of Jiang Cheng staring at a white scratch on a stone wall, jagged pieces of porcelain surrounding him, one more bloodied piece in his hand, returned to him. Ah…he was most likely the reason they were not provided basic necessities. He then wondered if performing well could return comforts like cups, ink wells, pitchers, and combs. That was only a theory, however; one Jiang Cheng would put to the test that night.

Unable to ignore his Lan training, Lan Xichen got up when they were finished with the towel and went to the bathroom to clean it. Jiang Cheng watched as he soaked it and wrung it out multiple times before hanging it up.

Lan Wangji also watched his brother. Neither of them seemed to be willing to acknowledge the other’s presence. Jiang Cheng sighed. He was going to have to be the bigger person here whether he wanted to or not and he really did not.

Still, for the sake of Lan Xichen, he scooted closer to Lan Wangji. Lowering his voice, he said, “As much as I hate to admit it, your brother is right. So…truce? For now?” Jiang Cheng looked at him with what he hoped was a neutral expression.

Lan Wangji stared into the bedding without saying anything. Jiang Cheng hoped he was ruminating on his words because he was not about to accept his olive branch being met with stubborn avoidance. Finally after a few long moments he nodded his head once. “Mn. Truce…” Then, quietly, “Thank you for treating my back.”

“I know what it feels like…to be whipped with a discipline whip. I couldn’t just leave you lying there in pain in that way without any help.”

Lan Wangji finally looked to him. His gaze was intense and Jiang Cheng found himself wanting to squirm beneath it. He told them he was whipped so why was he staring at him like that?

Lan Xichen was just returning from the bathroom when there was a single, firm knock on the door, and whatever cheer and comfort they’d mustered inside their gilded prison cell was gone. The door opened to a group of guards. Lan Xichen bit his lip, glancing back to the two of them.

“You have been summoned,” was all the guard said before the group entered the room.

The thought amongst the room’s inhabitants was palpable: this was it.

___________________      

Jiang Cheng was growing accustomed to moving around in a blindfold, he found. The walk over was a silent yet short affair and once more, the strip of cloth was removed once they reached their destination. Adjusting to the light change wasn’t nearly as difficult this time as the room was aglow in soft lantern light instead of harsh daylight.

The room was large. As in, almost three times as large as their room. The back wall was long, with twin doors opening onto a patio. A gigantic bed sat between the main door and the patio on a raised dais with curtains hanging from above. Aside from this, there was a tea table surrounded by chaises and padded chairs with what looked like a soft carpet marking out the area, an office space carved out by shelving, an entire dressing area with, again, a raised platform, as well as multiple screens, a built-in closet, and a grand vanity.

Wen Ruohan sat in a tall padded chair in the lounging area, wearing nothing but bottoms and a loose, opened, inner layer robe. He watched with keen eyes as they were lined up adjacent to the bed in front of him, with Jiang Cheng between Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen.

It wasn’t on accident he was in the center. He wanted as much focus on him instead of the Twin Jades. He wanted to try to garner Wen Ruohan’s attention first, to gauge what the man was planning. He could take anything he threw at him. He was ready. Though, the flipping in his gut and shaking hands said otherwise.

When they were situated, Wen Ruohan waved the guards away. They left with a bow until finally it was just the four of them.

Wen Ruohan continued to say nothing as he simply looked over them from his chair. He’d come to leisurely rest his head on a supported fist on one of the chair’s arms.

“I hope you have been treated well so far. Your room is accommodating, yes?”

When Lan Xichen didn’t say anything, Jiang Cheng decided to take the lead. For once this might be something he’ll be good at.

The silence lasted a bit too long before Jiang Cheng responded with a simple, “Yes, it’s comfortable.”

Wen Ruohan narrowed his eyes. Jiang Cheng got the feeling that was the wrong response. He lifted his head and dropped his arm in his lap, sitting up straight in the chair.

“You are respectful and respectable young men. Certainly you know how to address your betters.”

Jiang Cheng couldn’t get a read on his tone. It was blank and candid as though they were talking about paperwork or a business deal.

Jiang Cheng pushed his tongue against the back of his teeth in an attempt to not say something stupid. He’d have to take a lesson from Lan Xichen. After taking a moment to keep from getting them killed, he said, “Perhaps it would be beneficial for the Chief Cultivator to tell us how he wants us to address him.”

He heard a soft release of air behind him to his right where Lan Xichen was standing. It sounded like relief. He was stressing them out. He’d have to go about this differently if he wanted to maintain some semblance of control.

Jiang Cheng took another breath and lowered his head slightly in a show of deference. “We may be respectable young men but we are unfamiliar with the role we are to be taking on,” he continued carefully.

He really wanted to say “the role they were forced into because you’re an asshole” but he figured that was implied…not to mention saying that out loud would, once again, probably get them killed.

He heard a quiet, light hum from Wen Ruohan. Jiang Cheng didn’t know what that meant either.

“Forgive me. I forget I have been spoiled by my position. Of course, three young men of the gentry as yourselves would be unaware of the proper way to act in this instance, especially since two of you hail from Gusu. If you were knowledgeable, you’d know to be already kneeling with heads bowed.”

Was that an order? A stray comment? Why did it sound both like an insult and a compliment? It made him feel inadequate in some way, like he lacked necessary and expected knowledge, and it was negligent on his part that he did. He clenched his teeth.

None of them moved.

Wen Ruohan smirked and said, “How lucky I am to be the one to teach you the proper behavior for your new position.”

Jiang Cheng watched his gaze rove slowly over them, spending a few moments on each one of them. The two brothers kept their heads high and backs straight with arms clasped in front of them. He moved from the unshakeable statue that was Lan Wangji to observing Lan Xichen in all his proud glory before landing on Jiang Cheng again.

“And how lucky you are, Jiang Wanyin, to be able to assist me.” Jiang Cheng swallowed and felt twin stares on him from behind. “Based on your previous experience, what do you believe is the proper course of action in this moment?”

Jiang Cheng really, really wished he’d stop referring to his rape at Lotus Pier. Each uncaring comment made the echoes of his assault return. He was reminded of the coreless pathetic thing he’d been made into, fallen so low, and forced to fall further at the hands of some bored guards.

At the time, the only way for him to survive it was to simply let it all wash over him. Let it happen and try to not make it worse. If Wen Ruohan continued in this way, he was going to end up either a nervous wreck or a barely conscious doll. Though, either way, that’s probably what the man wanted. He wanted him uncomfortable. Out of his element. It was how he maintained control. That’s all this was. Control.

Let him have control.

Jiang Cheng knew what he wanted.

With crows and jeers of “learning his place” and “not so proud now” ringing in his ears, and with it killing him inside, Jiang Cheng sunk to his knees, sitting on his heels, lowering his head until his forehead was parallel to the floor. He placed his palms flat on his thighs, allowed the familiar feelings of humiliation wash over him. It stung more than it should. It left a sour taste in his mouth. It was fine. He could do this.

“Very good. Wanyin is indeed an intelligent young man…It seems your peers are less so,” he said, this time with a lilt to his tone which probably denoted amusement, if Jiang Cheng had to guess. Lan Xichen expectedly immediately went to kneel but Wen Ruohan dismissed him, saying, “Do not worry, Lan Xichen. I understand you and your brother are more unfamiliar than Wanyin. We will teach you here today to help you understand. This slight will not be counted against you. From now on, when brought to me, you shall kneel as Wanyin is now until I give an order.”

Slight. Not kneeling when merely suggesting someone else to kneel was a slight. They didn’t even know what to expect when they were marched into the room. And it was a slight.

How were they supposed to survive this?

Wen Rouhan continued to simply stare at them, not giving any more direction. It let Jiang Cheng ruminate over his words. He was starting to overthink.

Every comment about his “knowledge” or “experience” with this sort of thing stabbed at him and made his gut twist. It was demeaning. It made him feel like he was less than. He was already less than as a cultivator and now as a victim of rape he’s even less so simply because he was forced to endure such an act? The Twin Jades were so pure and virginal and Jiang Cheng was…used and sullied?

It made his face burn.

He knew what it was doing. It was setting them apart from each other. It was creating divide among them.

Just because he knew Wen Ruohan’s intentions didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

Jiang Cheng was just another tool here. A means to an end. Even in his own torment, he is not the main focus or concern. Wen Ruohan has no actual interest in him. He is once more being overlooked by betters in all sense of the word.

“Wanyin, come here.”

The order made him jump. He almost expected to be called—He stopped that thought before it went any further.

Instead, he wondered what he should do. Back then, when he didn’t do what he thought the guards wanted, they beat him. Now he had other people to worry about. If he didn’t do what Wen Ruohan wanted, it was Lan Xichen or Lan Wangji who would be hurt, not him. What would make Wen Ruohan that happiest and keep his focus on Jiang Cheng, and not the brothers?

The burn in his cheeks spread to his ears as he rose to his hands and knees. Carefully, he put one hand forward, followed by the opposite leg. Then, just as slowly, he placed the other hand further out followed by the other knee. Like this he began the slow crawl across the silent room to Wen Ruohan.

The floor was hard against his knees and the heel of his palms. Each new press of his knee into the floor ached. Each new pressure on his hands pulled uncomfortably at his skin.

He lifted his head only to ensure he was headed in the right direction and to gauge the distance. It closed painfully slowly, the crawling covering little distance in the grand scheme of things. The worst was knowing how slowly he was moving with all three of them watching. It made his gut pull again and he lowered his head once more, the shame engulfing him.

An eternity later had him kneeling back on his heels, this time in front of Wen Ruohan. He’d opened his legs and Jiang Cheng settled between them. He kept his head lowered, not wanting him to see how much this affected him. A hand on his head made him jump again as the fingers scrunched into the silky locks.

“Beautiful,” he heard from above. “I knew you would understand. Your experiences have taught you well.”

His eyes, cheeks, and stomach felt as though they were on fire.

The hand continued to scrunch and massage along Jiang Cheng’s scalp until it reached the twist secured by the pin. Wen Ruohan pulled the pin out and the hair fell, cascading down his back. Then, he undid the ribbon keeping his hair tied and it fell loose around his shoulders. Jiang Cheng welcomed this. It meant he could hide more effectively.

“We’re going to show those two ignorant brothers how to behave properly. You will be their guide, Wanyin. Do I make myself clear?” His words were quiet as he spoke in a dreadfully saccharine tone.

This was meant only for him to hear.

“Yes, Chief Cultivator,” he responded, voice barely above a whisper.

The hand in his hair grasped a fistful and yanked Jiang Cheng’s head back. “You know how to respond properly. As we’ve proved, you’re more intelligent than them.”

Jiang Cheng swallowed. “Yes, master. This one understands,” he enunciated slowly. The hand loosened in his hair again.

It slid from the back of his head down his cheek and to his chin, raising it up, forcing his head back, making it impossible for Jiang Cheng to hide. He stared up at Wen Ruohan with a reddened face and shining eyes, feeling smaller than he has in years. Wen Ruohan rubbed his thumb along his jaw.

“There you are,” he said, voice still so sweet and calming. Then, his grip changed. His fingers pressed into the corners of Jiang Cheng’s mouth with aching pressure, forcing his lips to open. His voice lowered and he leaned in close enough for Jiang Cheng to smell the liquor on his breath. “I want you to show me what else you learned in the smoldering remains of Lotus Pier, under the watchful eyes of your parents’ rotting corpses.”

Jiang Cheng growled and threw his head side to side to try to dislodge the fingers holding his mouth open. The bastard grinned down at him. He enjoyed watching Jiang Cheng squirm in rage as he clenched at the flimsy robes pooling around him and seemed to take immense glee in pressing down even harder on his chin and lips.

It took everything in Jiang Cheng to not attack him. He could not attack Wen Ruohan. He knew he couldn’t. He was asking for Jiang Cheng to disobey; to give him a reason to make it worse. Jiang Cheng wouldn’t give it to him even if the comment rankled at every fiber of his being.

In the midst of his rage, Wen Ruohan undid his pants and pushed them just low enough to reveal himself to Jiang Cheng. He glared at the man’s member. He knew what was coming next and he’d rather bite his dick off than give him any sort of pleasure.

He once more fought against the hand and managed to dislodge it enough to rip himself from his grip. This naturally earned him nothing good. Wen Rouhan had a tight grip in his hair in a flash and once again slapped him with the back of his hand.

Jiang Cheng groaned as his body was thrown to the side but had nowhere to go because of the hand in his hair. Wen Ruohan did it again, harder, and the force pulled at Jiang Cheng’s scalp. He let out a sharp cry as Wen Ruohan immediately righted him.

His neck was yanked back, forcing his chin up and causing his mouth to naturally fall open. He was then shoved forward until his mouth was mere centimeters from the tip of Wen Ruohan’s dick. His breath stuttered and Wen Ruohan twitched.

As far as dicks go, Jiang Cheng hadn’t seen any others besides his own or ones in books before he was seventeen. Then, all of a sudden he’d seen multiple all at once. It was alien to him. He didn’t know how varied they could be and what they could do to a person. He supposed he should get used to it, now.

Wen Ruohan was bigger than him. It was monstrous in a way Jiang Cheng hadn’t thought possible. He thought it might have been longer than half the length of his forearm despite the impossibility of such a length. The head was dusky and plump. The organ swelled simply at the thought of the pleasure it was about to receive at the expense of Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng’s mouth began to salivate. It seemed his body remembered being forced to suck for endless shí. It remembered the ache in his jaw, the strain in his cheeks, and the soreness in the back of his throat. (Never mind the angle Wen Ruohan held him at which forced his mouth open, making it difficult, nearly impossible, to swallow.)

He looked at the dick displayed to him then to Wen Ruohan. He would not move until Wen Ruohan ordered him to. This man would not get any enthusiasm out of him, especially not now, and if he thought he would, he was sorely mistaken.

Jiang Cheng would not allow Wen Ruohan to turn his own debauchery into a show. He would not become entertainment.

Wen Ruohan pressed against the back of his head to hold him close enough for his lips to brush the tip. More of that unrelenting pressure Jiang Cheng was beginning to associate with him.

When Jiang Cheng still did nothing Wen Ruohan clenched at his hair in warning. Jiang Cheng was getting dangerously close to the thin line there seemed to be between pure disobedience and entertaining struggle.

He figured this was as much guidance he would get. He let out a cool, shaky breath over the tip before peeking his tongue out and licking quickly at the head.

He tried to remember what he told Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji. Spit and saliva helped ease the slide. Use your tongue. Sucking provided friction and swallowing when it was in your throat created pressure. Memory was never enough when faced with something in the moment. His mind and body screamed at him as his heartbeat sped up. Adrenaline pumped through his veins.

He licked once more in an attempt to adjust to the taste. The guards were sour and acrid, reminiscent of old liquor, and smelled even worse. Wen Ruohan didn’t quite smell like anything. Maybe like some sort of soap? The initial licks left him with no real taste on his tongue besides leathery skin.

More willing knowing Wen Ruohan didn’t taste like piss and alcohol, he spread his lips more. He bent forward and licked broadly with the flat of his tongue on the underside the shaft, feeling the pulsing, thin vein standing out against the skin. With the longer lick, the shaft caressed by his tongue, Jiang Cheng found he actually tasted slightly tangy underneath a hint of musk and that soap Jiang Cheng couldn’t place.

Encouraged, he lowered his head and took in as much as he initially dared—about half of the length. It took up far more space than his body was prepared for. He pulled his lips over his teeth and began to move his head back once he got the feeling of it.

He sucked as he moved back, allowing the head to rub against the roof of his mouth as he pulled nearly entirely off. From there it became easy.

Back and forth. Back and forth. Rub. Suck. Saliva began to pool and swallowing became nearly impossible. He breathed shallowly, huffing, as the tightening muscles in his jaw and throat worked.

He looked up at Wen Ruohan as he moved. His face remained impassive. Jiang Cheng supposed a man like him would have received plenty of blowjobs from far more talented professionals. Jiang Cheng’s skills were probably meager and pathetic in comparison.

The hand tightening in his hair again encouraged him, though. It was the only sign besides the filling cock that told Jiang Cheng he was doing something right.

Deciding there was no point in looking at him, Jiang Cheng placed his focus on pleasuring the man.

He closed his eyes and shuffled forward, allowing more of the length in. He took in a few shallow breaths through his nose and steadied himself with his hands on Wen Ruohan’s chair. Then, as he pulled back again, he breathed out slowly and allowed the next thrust to reach the back of his throat.

It was instantly met with resistance. He gagged, saliva dribbling out of the corners of his mouth and down his chin, his stomach jumping.

Still, he worked through it as tears gathered, pulling back slightly and swallowing as much as he could before attempting it again.

In. Gag. Out.

He kept going and going, refusing to stop. He wanted to get Wen Rouhan off as soon as possible and get this over with. The sooner he was finished, the sooner they moved on, the sooner he could go to sleep and pretend the Lan brothers weren’t watching him debase himself for their viewing pleasure, as well as Wen Ruohan’s.

The pace was punishing and Jiang Cheng’s composure was fully ruined. His throat burned and his stomach began to ache from the repeated abuse. Tears freely fell down his cheeks.

He tried to lift a hand to steady himself but Wen Ruohan grabbed his wrist. He yanked him further forward with the wrist on a downward thrust, making him retch and gag hard enough for acid to crawl up the back of his throat, holding his wrist in a death grip above his head.

Jiang Cheng tried to push back but both hands refused to let him free and he choked on an attempted breath, once more making his stomach jump.

He needed a break. He needed to get control of himself. Sniffling, with eyes clenched shut, body aching and desperate for a deep breath, Jiang Cheng stopped.

He held himself speared on the cock in his throat attempting to recover around it. It was heavy in his mouth and thick against his tongue as he found his breath despite the intrusion.

This was so different from before. The guards simply took. He didn’t have a choice but to give. Wen Ruohan was truly different. He allowed him this time to adjust, no doubt enjoying the feeling of the frantic, warm, wet throat. Jiang Cheng tried not to let the warmth of gratitude in. It didn’t matter. This wasn’t kindness. This was Wen Ruohan not wanting to break a toy.

When Jiang Cheng felt like he could manage again, he continued, slowly working his throat once more until he got his gag reflex under control. Soon, it became easy.

When he was confident and relaxed he sped up, easing the head further and further back. When he felt himself gag and struggle, he slowed down and sucked in his cheeks with shallow thrusts, creating suction and once more rubbing the shaft against his palate.

He managed to remain relatively quiet besides the harsh breaths he took when Wen Ruohan wasn’t in his throat. But the slide was wet and slick and when he went faster, there was a distinct glug-gluggingsound. When he gagged, the retching was loud in the otherwise silent room. Then there were the quiet puffs of breath from above as Wen Ruohan got more and more worked up.

It was impossible to escape the sounds knowing he was the one causing them. He was the one making them happen and encouraging them. His face continued to burn.

Focus. Focus would get him through this. Just focus and perform well and maybe they’ll be okay. Make him feel good. Remember, this doesn’t reflect on you. Did Wen Ruohan feel no shame, forcing a young man he’s known since childhood to do these things?

These thoughts and their companion thoughts were too much. He buried them by once more swallowing down the man’s cock.

The hands loosened. A low groan released from somewhere above him and Wen Ruohan sank in the chair. He let Jiang Cheng’s wrist go and Jiang Cheng lowered it as the wetness from his eyes and cheeks and chin grew at the strain. The clear, disgusting mix of bodily fluids spilling down his cheeks and out of his mouth finally dribbled onto the floor to form a puddle.

Uncaring, he went faster, forcing Wen Ruohan’s cock deeper and deeper until finally his nose brushed against something and his throat closed up. He gagged far worse than any time before.

He threw himself back and fell onto the floor coughing and choking and sniffling.

He heard movement from somewhere behind. Maybe one of the brothers wanted to help. He breathed open-mouthed desperately. The shuddering, gasping breaths left his throat feeling cold and gaping.

Far too soon that hand returned to his hair. He couldn’t help the sob he let out as he curled up in an attempt to fight against it. Please, he wanted to beg. All that came out was a wet, thready groan as he was yanked up by the strands, pulling sharply at his scalp. He opened his eyes to see Wen Ruohan’s red-tinged face and blown pupils. He wore a small smile as he dragged Jiang Cheng back into place.

Jiang Cheng whimpered when faced once more with Wen Ruohan’s now engorged cock. It was a harsh red color, dripping in fluids, adding to the puddle. He reared back. He couldn’t do this. He lifted his hands to try to pry Wen Ruohan off of his hair but Wen Ruohan knocked his hand away with a growl.

“No hands,” he ordered, animalistic in what must have been desperation. This was punctuated with another searing yank. “Attempt once more and I will bind you. Now keep going, you’re doing so well. Just a little bit more.”

He didn’t wait for Jiang Cheng to fully recover. Seemingly finished with allowing Jiang Cheng control of the pace, Wen Ruohan twisted his hand in his hair and shoved him back down his cock until his nose once more hit his pelvis. It took up the entire space of his throat and Jiang Cheng was entirely unprepared for it. His stomach jumped and acid burned its way up his throat. He was going to be sick!

He wrenched his head back forth to try to dislodge the hand, fighting the urge to vomit, yet it held steady. Unable to free himself, his body spasmed and he shuddered. In a desperate last-ditch effort for a modicum of relief he pushed at the cock with his tongue.

That really seemed to work Wen Ruohan up as he ground down into his face with a throaty moan in response. He shoved him up and down the length in a punishing pace that made Jiang Cheng feel like he was drowning and choking all at once.  

Just when Jiang Cheng thought he’d never be allowed to breathe, he grinded against his face once more then pulled him back. It wasn’t long-just enough to take in a breath-but it was enough to keep him conscious, before shoving back in. This time Wen Ruohan pulled him flush with his pelvis and held him there.

The sudden lack of movement was jarring. Jiang Cheng blinked wetly. His throat and tongue worked. He couldn’t tell if he was trying to swallow the intrusion down or throw it up. When he felt himself running out of breath he attempted an inhale through his nose and only succeeded in sucking in pubic hair.

He couldn’t help the desperate whine that vibrated oddly up his throat.

Gods this was never ending.

Soon his chest began to ache. He clenched his eyes shut once more. Desperate, he tried again and again to take in a breath only for it to be summarily blocked by the all-encompassing presence of Wen Ruohan’s cock.

The ache quickly turned into a burn. He needed air. Immediately. No hands be damned, he pushed and shoved against Wen Ruohan’s thighs until finally Wen Ruohan allowed him to pull back. He was pulled off with a wet, sudden heave and Jiang Cheng gasped.

He only had a moment or two before Wen Ruohan did it again, and again, and again, each time grinding harder and harder against his face, smashing Jiang Cheng against him. Jiang Cheng struggled and choked and gagged upon each entry and exit until his vision slowly grew dark and his struggles grew weak. His body became limp.

This went on until finally, finally, he pulled Jiang Cheng back. With a shuddering groan and a jump of the head in his mouth, he began to come.

The fluid was warm. Tanginess mixed with salt filled his mouth. Wen Ruohan began moving his head back and forth again, using Jiang Cheng’s mouth like the toy it was to pleasure himself through his orgasm. The movement prevented him from swallowing all of it and he felt it leak out of the corners of his mouth to join the puddle.

Finally, it was over.

Wen Ruohan held him there on his cock as it began to soften. He blinked, feeling the dampness around his eyes. A deep-set ache radiated through his entire body, especially in the hinge of his jaw and chin. He swallowed and his throat still felt open and sore. Everything was wet and burning and all he could do was blink through it, awareness hazy, mind blank.

Wen Ruohan released his head and Jiang Cheng fell limp to the side. He rested against one of Wen Ruohan’s legs, using it as support as he simply breathed, feeling the gradual slowing of the rise and fall of his chest.

He stared blankly just below the chair. His body felt heavy as stone and he sunk further against Wen Ruohan. It was all too much. He sniffled.

Why did he think he could handle this?

“Is he…” he heard Lan Xichen begin to ask.

“He’s fine. He was merely ambitious. He will recover.” Back in Chief Cultivator, new slave-owner mode, he addressed the Twin Jades. “I do not expect this level from you two, yet. Even he struggled despite the confidence. But do not worry, I will train you yet.”

He didn’t even sound the least bit affected. Jiang Cheng was an absolute mess. He closed his eyes, not wanting to acknowledge the situation more than he had to.

“Lan Wangji, dampen that towel and come here.”

Every sound in the room was loud and bright to Jiang Cheng. He heard shuffling as Lan Wangji moved to wherever the towel and probably water was. He heard the sound of water pouring into a bowl, the sloshing of something displacing it, then the trickle of something being wrung out. Then, he heard the light slapping of bare feet against tile growing louder as Lan Wangji approached.

“Clean him.”

Jiang Cheng blinked bleary eyes open a few times before the image of Lan Wangji became clear. His face was pale, almost green. His eyes were large as they took in the state of Jiang Cheng.

Once more he felt small, used, disgusting. He wanted to curl up and hide, not let anyone see him again, especially not Lan Wangji. He couldn’t imagine the disgusting state he was in. He couldn’t force Lan Wangji to clean him up.

He reached out for the towel with a shaking arm. Lan Wangji did not react. Jiang Cheng opened his mouth to try to argue but no sound came out. He tried to communicate by looking pointedly at the towel and then his own hand.

Lan Wangji, understanding now, shook his head slightly and held the towel tighter. He moved behind Jiang Cheng and helped him sit up and away from Wen Ruohan and the mess he’d made. Jiang Cheng swayed without support and so Lan Wangji used his hand and arm on his back to keep him upright as he got to work.

He swiped along his neck and chin first. The towel was cold to the touch but it felt good against his sweaty skin. From there, he worked his way around his jaw and then around his nose and mouth. There was a pause and then he began to wipe and dab at the damp and swollen skin around his eyes before gently pressing the towel to them. That felt better than anything else and Jiang Cheng found himself sighing. He hadn’t realized how much his eyes stung.

The towel was removed and a hand grasped his, opened the palm, and placed the towel into it. His hand was then moved back to his face to press back into his eyes. When he was sure Jiang Cheng knew what to do, he pulled away. Jiang Cheng pressed the towel to his eyes. It had grown warm but it was still soothing and he really didn’t want to show his face yet.

Lan Wangji’s hands moved to his hair and began fingering through the knots that formed there.

He felt something or someone hovering above him. A low, quiet voice asked, “are you alright?” The voice was full of an emotion Jiang Cheng couldn’t place. It was so sincere it almost made him sob.

Jiang Cheng nodded in response, still not trusting himself to speak.

Lan Wangji didn’t move, waiting to see if Jiang Cheng’s answer changed. When it didn’t he continued combing his hair.

The grip was gentle. It reminded him of his sister when she would play with his hair when he was little. Where was she? Was she safe? Would he ever be able to feel her soft, uncalloused fingers scratch against his scalp and twist his hair into intricate buns and braids again?

Once it was as smooth as it could be, given the state of it, Jiang Cheng felt Lan Wangji gathering the hair up into his hand. He began tying the ribbon from before around it until it was tight enough to hold in a ponytail then backed away, taking the warmth, comfort, and memory with him.

It was then Jiang Cheng removed the towel. He used it to wipe at any remaining gunk or odd fluid he could feel before putting it off to the side.

The first thing he saw was Lan Xichen. He was still standing by the bed having not moved without receiving an order first. His eyes were suspiciously wet. When they made eye contact, he turned away.

Wen Ruohan cleared his throat. Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji turned to look up at him. “Wanyin,” he called.

Jiang Cheng didn’t feel like fighting anymore. His body stopped shaking and the strain was slowly morphing into something more akin to exhaustion. His face felt clean and he appreciated his hair being out of his face. His robes were a mess, the ties half undone, one side pulled up and open around his chest. He scooted closer to Wen Ruohan.

Once he was close enough, Wen Ruohan gripped his arm and pulled him up, hugging him to his body. Jiang Cheng’s eyes bugged at the movement before he settled into Wen Ruohan’s side. He’d pulled Jiang Cheng onto one of his knees and caressed his waist, petting the fabric there. They both looked down at where Lan Wangji was still kneeling.

“You’ve cleaned Wanyin. Now it’s time to clean everything else. You may start with the floor.” Lan Wangji reached for the towel but Wen Ruohan stopped him with a sharp, “No. You know what to use.”

Jiang Cheng closed his eyes as disgust roiled through him. That was fucking gross. How could he expect Lan Wangji to do that? Still, he found himself looking back to the scene. Lan Wangji stared down at the…puddle of fluid…gods it made his stomach churn to even think about what Lan Wangji was about to do.

Jiang Cheng cleared his throat. He tried to speak but found it still to be too difficult and so cleared his throat a second time.

“I can do it,” he forced out past the sore thickness. “It’s my mess anyways.” He began to try to climb back down to the ground but the hand at his waist tightened. Jiang Cheng looked up to Wen Ruohan, who was still staring down at Lan Wangji. Jiang Cheng looked back to Lan Wangji.

They made eye contact. Jiang Cheng tried to convey that he didn’t want him to do this and that he was sorry. Lan Wangji must have seen the sincerity there. He shook his head and turned away, back down to the puddle.

Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen were both forced to watch as Lan Wangji scooted closer on his hands and knees. He bent his head forward and began to lean down. The hair that had been left loose fell forward. He grabbed it and held it as he leaned down further until his chest was nearly to the floor. It was there that he hesitated.

The puddle had an odd translucent white sheen to it from the semen and saliva. It was thick and viscous and somehow bubbly. Jiang Cheng figured it smelled awful.

Lan Wangji closed his eyes and swallowed thickly. Jiang Cheng could see his throat work, struggling not to gag or be sick himself. He was so enraptured by the scene he didn’t notice the hairpin until it was too late. He’d completely forgotten about it. He’d thought Wen Ruohan had discarded it or thrown it away somewhere.

Now, it jabbed into his throat, just below the junction of his neck and chin. He sucked in a breath and froze. The pin was sharp and was already puncturing the skin. He felt the tickle of a bead of liquid slide down his neck.

Somewhere in front of them Lan Xichen gasped.

“Wangji, I suggest you move quickly, or there will be consequences.”

Lan Wangji opened his eyes and glanced up, and then froze, seeing Jiang Cheng’s predicament.

So that was why Wen Ruohan wanted him to wear a hairpin. Had he planned this?

Lan Wangji shuddered and swallowed again before bending down and taking the smallest of licks. Jiang Cheng couldn’t help gagging and Lan Xichen covered his mouth and held his stomach like he was going to throw up and was desperately fighting against it.

Lan Wangji made a face and jerked at the first lick. Still, probably very aware of the pin against Jiang Cheng’s throat, he moved past whatever it tasted like and proceeded to slowly lick up the mess. His throat worked with each swallow. The fluids stuck to his tongue with each lift of it off the floor.

It was so gross!

If a hairpin weren’t shoved against his throat Jiang Cheng was sure he’d be shuddering and heaving at the scene.

It took far longer than anyone here probably wanted for Lan Wangji to finish. When he was done he merely rested there on one elbow, expression pinched and eyes clenched shut. Jiang Cheng could see his throat working and the tenseness in his jaw. He was definitely fighting the urge to throw up.

“You’re not finished,” Wen Ruohan said.

Jiang Cheng was confused. So was Lan Wangji. He glared up at Wen Ruohan in question. His line of vision was interrupted by Wen Ruohan’s cock. Ah…he wanted Lan Wangji to lick it clean.

“Clean it,” Wen Ruohan ordered.

Lan Wangji hesitated again and the pin was pressed further into the junction of his neck. Another bead of blood dripped down his neck. Jiang Cheng’s knuckles cracked where he’d scrunched once more at the robe.

This wasn’t like the whip. Wen Ruohan could kill him easily if Lan Wangji didn’t comply. Lan Wangji scooted closer on his knees and eyed the impressive length in front of him.

“Slow breaths,” Jiang Cheng reminded him desperately. “Gagging is just a reflex you’ll be fine.”

The slap was sudden and Jiang Cheng jumped from the impact to his exposed inner thigh, releasing a shout as it jostled the pin. He understood. No helping Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji faced Wen Ruohan’s cock head on, golden eyes suddenly determined. Just as Jiang Cheng had done earlier, Lan Wangji began to lick it with flat broad strokes, though they appeared much more dry than Jiang Cheng’s had.

Wen Ruohan’s cock had been covered in Jiang Cheng’s spit and the semen earlier but the body fluids had dried considerably and began to flake and glisten. Lan Wangji would need to generate more spit if he had any hope.

Lan Wangji didn’t seem to realize this. Instead, ever the diligent student, the Second Jade of Gusu Lan continued to lick and lick just as he had done to the floor. It was only after he realized that method wouldn’t be anywhere near efficient that he finally took the head into his mouth.

He worked his mouth around the shaft and head, suckling like a baby kitten as he went. He finally began to produce enough saliva for it to moisten the previously dried fluids. He wasn’t brave enough to take the length fully into his mouth but he wrapped his lips around the width. That seemed to be enough for Wen Ruohan who remained silent until he deemed it clean.

“Enough. Well done.”

Lan Wangji pulled back. The praise was the only warning he and Jiang Cheng had as Wen Ruohan shoved Jiang Cheng back onto the floor. He landed with an oomph and his knees smarted from the impact. They shared a private look of disgust at what Lan Wangji was made to do and annoyance at Jiang Cheng injuries.

Twin hands gripped the backs of their heads and shoved them both forward until they were mere centimeters apart. Jiang Cheng thought he knew what was about to happen. Lan Wangji merely seemed confused. Jiang Cheng sighed, leaning forward. Lan Wangji tried to lean back but couldn’t go anywhere with Wen Ruohan’s hand in his hair.

Jiang Cheng waited for Wen Ruohan’s order. They were in each other’s space. They were breathing the same air. Like this, Jiang Cheng was able to see the flecks of light brown in Lan Wangji’s honey golden eyes and the tint of red from his ears to his cheeks.

Time dragged on. Wen Ruohan said nothing. Jiang Cheng grit his teeth. The bastard was going to make him beg.

“Master?” Jiang Cheng questioned. It came out more angry than he intended. Wen Ruohan raised an eyebrow at him. Lan Wangji frowned at the address. Ignoring him, he was careful with his tone next as he asked, “Master, may I kiss him?”

Lan Wangji sucked in an almost imperceptible breath. Jiang Cheng only caught it because they were so close. Wen Ruohan’s lips quirked into a sadistic grin.

“Yes, you may.”

Jiang Cheng looked back to Lan Wangji. He moved slowly so Lan Wangji could see what he was doing as he raised a hand to the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He brought his other hand up to his cheek and gently guided Lan Wangji’s head forward.

His heart beat in his ears as he pressed in. He felt Lan Wangji’s breath stutter against his lips as he left a gentle peck before backing off. Lan Wangji’s lips were soft and somewhat sticky and still somehow dry despite what he’d just done. He couldn’t imagine his own mouth fared much better. Jiang Cheng tried to move away again but Wen Ruohan held them close. He wanted them to keep going.

Jiang Cheng closed his eyes this time as he pressed his lips to Lan Wangji’s again, holding the kiss longer. It was all soft and slow as he continued to pucker small kisses against Lan Wangji’s closed lips. He opened his eyes when he pulled away briefly to breathe to see Lan Wangji staring at him with wide eyes. Jiang Cheng felt a trembling breath escape him.

Jiang Cheng tilted his head and went in again, this time from a different angle. He began to lick at the man’s closed lips and Lan Wangji seemed to finally get the hint. Lan Wangji’s mouth opened slightly, welcoming the kiss now that he knew what it felt like, and Jiang Cheng found himself following suit. Together, they deepened the kiss.

Then, to everyone’s surprise, Lan Wangji pressed himself into Jiang Cheng. His hand came up behind Jiang Cheng’s neck. His other hand pulled him in by his waist. He grew more active, more dominant. Lan Wangji tilted his head and pushed further into Jiang Cheng, licking at his lips and biting when they separated.

Jiang Cheng hugged him closer, relishing in the contact. He found he loved the feeling of his hand on his waist. It felt like it was able to span almost half of it with just one hand and was squeezing and rubbing intermittently. It was the first non-threatening physical contact he’s had in weeks. His body surrendered to it.

On another insistent press from Lan Wangji, Jiang opened his lips wider, and Lan Wangji’s tongue found its way in. He licked inside Jiang Cheng’s mouth. He explored his teeth and the roof and his cheeks as he sucked and pressed.

Jiang Cheng fought against Lan Wangji’s tongue, shoving from his mouth to Lan Wangji’s, then back to his. Lan Wangji refused to back down. He moved forward, tilting Jiang Cheng back further until he was forced to clutch at Lan Wangji to stay upright. His head was pushed back further and Lan Wangji pushed deeper, more insistently, into his mouth. Jiang Cheng found himself giving.

The suction-like sounds were loud and their breathing intermingled as Jiang Cheng found himself moaning.

This wasn’t his first kiss. His first kiss was actually on accident. He’d been fighting with Wei Wuxian. Jiang Cheng moved his head one way, expecting Wei Wuxian to move the other, but they both ended up going the same direction. Their lips brushed and both of them panicked. In their effort to separate, Wei Wuxian fell on him, hitting his head back against the floor, and pressing harder against his lips in the process.

They didn’t fight again for a week. He and Wei Wuxian couldn’t even look at each other without blushing. A-Jie thought they were sick or something. Their shidi were ecstatic to finally get some peace and quiet.

He was positive, however, that this was Lan Wangji’s first kiss…and damn, he was a good kisser.

Jiang Cheng wasn’t a cut sleeve. That didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate a nice kiss.

That familiar warmth of the beginnings of pleasure grew. Jiang Cheng found himself moaning loudly as Lan Wangji nipped particularly hard at his lip, pulling it as they separated slightly for breath before going back in. Jiang Cheng tried to pull back, absolutely mortified from the sound, but the other hand in his hair, this one belonging to Wen Ruohan, once more didn’t allow it. There was no hiding here.

It was then Lan Wangji once again shocked them all, and began pressing kisses along his jaw, behind his ear, down his neck. Jiang Cheng opened his eyes, peering down at Lan Wangji while he craned to the side to allow him more access.

The kisses against his skin were at first just as soft as their initial kiss but soon morphed into sucking and Jiang Cheng’s eyes fell shut again.

Lan Wangji sucked and nibbled against his skin until he reached his collarbone. He paused there, licking and mouthing but not doing much else. Jiang Cheng thought he was done. His chest was heaving and his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. His hands were clenched in the back of Lan Wangji’s robes and then Jiang Cheng’s world went white when Lan Wangji bit down for real.

Jiang Cheng released something between a yelp and a moan as his hips twitched up into Lan Wangji’s warmth. His eyes snapped open. He stared, unseeing, at the wall as pleasure blossomed and he found himself beginning to fill as blood rushed through him. The pain was sharp and sudden and electric but it felt oh so good.

Lan Wangji sucked on the bite, laving at it with his tongue. Jiang Cheng shuddered, falling back.

“Nngh…La—an Wangji,” he moaned brokenly. He pulled at the lapels of his robe. Finally Lan Wangji dislodged from the wound, licking it once more before Jiang Cheng pulled him up and threw himself into Lan Wangji’s lap, kissing him more.

He heard someone clearing his throat. It must’ve been Lan Xichen. He’d probably never seen his brother like this before.

“Is this your first time seeing your brother this way, Lan Xichen?” Wen Ruohan asked above them.

That’s right. Jiang Cheng wasn’t in some random room on the floor of an inn somewhere or in Cloud Recesses or Lotus Pier. He was in Qishan. He was being forced to do this. That lessened whatever pleasure he’d begun to feel.

He slowed, no longer an active participant. Lan Wangji was much the same. Their kissing stopped soon after. They parted. Jiang Cheng fell forward, resting his head on Lan Wangji’s shoulder. His chest was still heaving and he could feel Lan Wangji’s panting. Lan Wangji’s tight grip at his waist loosened but he still left his hand there, simply resting against him.

The presence on both of their heads disappeared as slow, harsh clapping sounded above them.

“An impressive show, boys. I was going to have you kiss until I grew tired of it, but I couldn’t look away. Does that bite hurt, Wanyin?”

“A bit,” Jiang Cheng breathed out.

It wasn’t too bad. It had dulled out and felt more like a bruise being pressed on than anything else.

“I…I don’t…I’m sorry,” Lan Wangji said above him.

Jiang Cheng shook his head. “It’s fine.”

“…okay.”

“As much as I would love to simply watch you two perform, I’m afraid both I and Lan Xichen are feeling left out.”

At this, Jiang Cheng pulled back. He looked to where Lan Xichen had perched himself on the step of the dais. His cheeks and ears were cherry red.

“You should make it up to us. Because you performed so well, I will allow you to choose whom you apologize to.”

Jiang Cheng glared down at the space between him and Lan Wangji. This wasn’t a choice. It was obvious who would choose who. Jiang Cheng wasn’t going to force the Lan brothers to do anything to each other until it was absolutely unavoidable.

Jiang Cheng was also a quick learner. He turned to Wen Ruohan and asked, “how would Master prefer us apologize?” Deference and submission were the best ways to get what any of them wanted. Jiang Cheng had little pride left after what he’d been forced to do in the presence of two other great cultivators. There was no sense in trying to maintain face.

Wen Ruohan smirked again, tapping his lips in thought. “That depends. Who will you choose?”

“Lan Xichen,” Jiang Cheng responded immediately.

Lan Xichen gasped, snapping his head up. Lan Wangji eyed him and tipped his head in a bow of acknowledgement and thanks.

“We will move to the bed.”

Wen Ruohan stood and crossed the room to the bed. Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji rose after and followed him. Once more the three stood in front of the bed and Wen Ruohan. Jiang Cheng somehow felt worse standing in between Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen this time. Lan Xichen kept passing them sideways glances Jiang Cheng didn’t want to acknowledge. Lan Wangji stared forward, ignoring both of them. Jiang Cheng pressed against the bite mark feeling the indentations of Lan Wangji’s teeth.

“Lan Xichen,” Wen Ruohan beckoned.

Lan Xichen stood tall as he walked around Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji and over to Wen Ruohan. He bowed his head and once more clasped his hands together in front of him. On another man it would have seemed odd. On him, the demure behavior in a robe as revealing as theirs was attractive and enticing. Wen Ruohan placed a hand on his shoulder.

“As an apology, Lan Xichen and I shall take freely from your bodies.”

Jiang Cheng was infinitely more glad he chose Lan Xichen. This couldn’t possibly be worse than those dogs.

“And, as apology for your selfishness for choosing without discussing with Lan Wangji, you will teach them how to prepare properly.”

Jiang Cheng seethed internally. What selfishness? It was either this fucking bastard or his brother. Those weren’t exactly good odds! Jiang Cheng was doing him a favor!

Jiang Cheng wanted to say this out loud but he was smarter than that. He wasn’t usually so willing to talk a lot of nonsense like Wei Wuxian and he’ll be damned if he let his own mouth ruin their chances of safety.

“Now then; strip.”

He then proceeded to climb onto the bed, taking a lounging seat against the headboard while the three of them gawked at each other. None of them wanted to be the first to fully disrobe around the other for the first time. Eventually Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes and slipped the robe off of his shoulders to pool at his feet when the other two didn’t move.

Lan Xichen sucked in a breath. Oh…right. Jiang Cheng looked down at his chest to see the still somewhat healing garish scars from the discipline whip spanning across his chest from his left shoulder down to his right lower ribs. He forgot it would be their first time seeing it.

Lan Wangji disrobed next, allowing his robe to slide from his shoulders. Though, unlike Jiang Cheng, he did not allow it to fall to the floor. From here Jiang Cheng could see the wounds on his back. The marks were still a light pink. The flesh would be sensitive.

Finally, Lan Xichen disrobed. He slowly undid the ties and allowed the robe to fall open before he too removed it from his shoulders. Like Lan Wangji he did not allow it to fall to the floor.

“Wanyin and Wangji, on the bed, facing me. Xichen, behind Wanyin.”

They climbed onto the bed and knelt in front of Wen Ruohan while Lan Xichen moved behind Jiang Cheng.

Wen Ruohan grabbed a pot which had been sitting on his nightstand. It looked exactly like the one Jiang Cheng shattered in the dungeons. He tossed the jar in front of Jiang Cheng.

“You will use this to prepare Wangji and teach both of them how to properly prepare someone. Xichen will be doing this to you without.”

This was fine and all, but Jiang Cheng didn’t actually know how to do any prep. It’s not like the dogs who raped him gave him a thing of oil and told him to get himself ready for them! They just stuck it in!

Should he tell him that?

He reached for the pot. Realistically he could figure it out. But Wen Ruohan was expecting knowledge. He hesitated.

“Um…Master,” he began quietly. He felt his cheeks flame up for the hundredth time that night. “I don’t…know how to…prep someone for—for this kind of thing. The guards—they kind of just…” he trailed off, not wanting to say it.

“I actually have some experience,” Lan Xichen volunteered for the first time that night.

Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng looked back in shock.

He had experience? This whole time they—and he had experience? Jiang Cheng could’ve smacked him for all of the stress these two had caused him. He thought they were going in completely blind.

Lan Wangji seemed to forget himself entirely as he let out a surprised, “Xiongzhang…who?”

“Y-you don’t know him…”

That was worse. Oh, that was worse. Jiang Cheng collapsed forward, trying to hide from the world because what the fuck. That was so, so much worse. Never mind. He never should have said anything. He could’ve figured it out. Obviously you’d start with a glob of oil or cream or something and one finger and then work your way up. It would not have been that hard.

“When?”

Lan Wangji! This was not time for an interrogation! Spare them all, please!

“When I was…on the run…”

Even Wen Ruohan didn’t seem to know what to say to that as he remained silent along with Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji.

Jiang Cheng really couldn’t believe it. They were stuck being night hunt bait and getting trapped in a fucking cave while Lan Xichen was blowing some random guy’s back out. Dear fucking gods. Jiang Cheng’s going to stab him with that damn hairpin before the night is over.

“Can someone please just fuck me. I’ll take anyone if it means we can end this conversation,” Jiang Cheng begged into the sheets. “I’ll finger Lan Wangji. I don’t care anymore.”

“Please, allow me,” Lan Xichen requested. He looked to Wen Ruohan for permission. “I can teach Jiang Wanyin and Jiang Wanyin can do it to Wangji, that way they both learn. Besides…M-master said I could be selfish. I want to.”

Jiang Cheng had half a mind to to point out that Lan Xichen could simply finger Lan Wangji himself and teach both of them at the same time. But he knew what Lan Xichen was doing and he wasn’t so cruel. He knew Lan Xichen was simply trying to stay away from his brother, like Jiang Cheng had been trying to do except for some reason Wen Ruohan saw his eagerness as selfishness. And that made no goddamned sense. But it wasn’t like any of this made any sense anyways.

Jiang Cheng almost wished he was still kissing Lan Wangji. He didn’t have to think so much when he was being forced to make out.

“Very well, let’s see it.”

Lan Xichen bowed his head. “Thank you…Master,” he said. The last word still sounded strained even to Jiang Cheng’s ears but apparently Wen Ruohan had a soft spot only for him and allowed it.

Lan Xichen smoothed his hands up his back from shoulder to his lower back, massaging lightly as he went. Jiang Cheng changed his position so that he was kneeling with his chest down. He faced Lan Wangji, not wanting to put any pressure on the bite.

“Try to relax.”

Jiang Cheng let out a slow breath and closed his eyes.

Lan Xichen’s hands were warm and soft despite the clear callouses from years of sword training. They massaged his lower back before moving further down. Then, he felt his cheeks part.

He clenched his eyes and grit his teeth. Now that the awkwardness and fun was over, Jiang Cheng was painfully reminded of the situation again. When the guards used him, the first pulled his cheeks apart just like this and spit directly onto his hole. Then, he slammed his foot down on Jiang Cheng’s head and held it there as he entered without any other precursor. Jiang Cheng thought he’d screamed almost as loudly as he did when he lost his core.

This time was different. Lan Xichen’s slim finger prodded at the skin around the hole. He began explaining what he was doing.

“I’m not using any lubricant or oil, so I’m working the muscle slowly until it adjusts bit by bit to the intrusion. If I were using oil, this would be easier and I wouldn’t need to worry as much.”

He felt Lan Xichen’s finger press in and massage the tight ring of muscle in small, controlled circles. It felt weird. The touch was foreign. The sensation was positively bizarre as the tip of his finger pressed into the precipice of his hole. He wasn’t breaching yet, just doing what he said he was doing, helping his body to adjust. Ever so slowly Jiang Cheng found himself growing used to the touch and he stopped clenching and tightening at every press and prod.

When he felt the muscle was loose enough, still moving slowly, Lan Xichen pressed in. The tip sunk in easily. Jiang Cheng clutched at the bedding.

“You don’t want to move too fast. Moving too fast can result in your partner not being fully adjusted or properly prepared, leading to injury or bleeding…unfortunately, bleeding might be unavoidable here, but I will try to prevent it.”

He continued to push his finger in. Then he pulled it back out. Jiang Cheng was pretty sure he didn’t even make it up to the first knuckle. Then, he did it again, still not going too deep.

Jiang Cheng expected it to hurt. He expected to feel the stretch, feel the skin being pulled, the muscle tearing at the intrusion. He expected to be bleeding and for sharp pain on every thrust. Surprisingly, it really didn’t hurt. It only came with the feeling of something stretching and a slight pressure at something being pushed inside of him.

“Start with one finger. You’ll want to slowly help your partner adjust to the intrusion, just as I am doing. Go with slow, easy, shallow thrusts. Once the slide becomes easier and there’s less resistance you can start moving faster and going in deeper.”

The finger did just that, pushing in slightly deeper. Jiang Cheng breathed through it. It was still tight and he wasn’t even going faster yet. Doing it dry apparently fucking sucked. It almost seemed bleeding was preferrable to nothing. Lan Xichen was doing the best he could though and Jiang Cheng appreciated that.

Silence once again fell. And it stretched. And Jiang Cheng continued to grasp at the sheets with eyes tightly shut just waiting for further sensations and maybe pain. Yet, it never came. The silence continued as did the slow shallow thrusts pushing in just past the first knuckle. Then the movement slowed until it stopped all together.

Jiang Cheng opened his eyes and glanced back to see Lan Xichen staring down at his ass, worrying at his lip between his teeth. He looked up to Wen Ruohan.

“M-Master…” Again, there was that hesitation only Lan Xichen seemed to be allowed. “You said I could not use oil…may I use something else?”

“What did you have in mind?” Came the immediate response with a higher lilt Jiang Cheng noted must be curiosity.

Jiang Cheng fought the urge to physically show his annoyance. Why was he met with impatience and cruelty yet Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji were able to be as hesitant and annoying as possible? He was practically treating Lan Xichen as an equal right now!

Well…equal…Maybe not equal, but Lan Xichen was being treated better than both him and Lan Wangji. So there!

Lan Xichen removed his finger and brought his hand to his face. He looked from his hand, to Jiang Cheng’s ass, then to Jiang Cheng’s face. He was clearly facing some sort of conundrum but Jiang Cheng couldn’t tell what.

Jiang Cheng was ready to argue that it was fine, he’ll take it dry, it didn’t matter, when Lan Xichen moved his hand closer to his mouth. Something in Jiang Cheng’s stomach tightened as Lan Xichen opened his mouth and, with an honestly impressive amount of saliva, licked a thick stripe up his finger from knuckle to nail. Spit dripped down his finger towards his palm and down the back of his hand. Lan Xichen licked at it before putting the two fingers into his mouth and sucking.

Jiang Cheng watched in something between horror and awe. That finger had just been—But humiliation was the best way for any of them to get anywhere. Had Lan Xichen realized this and planned accordingly?

He audibly sucked on the digits before pulling them out and pushing them back in again as though it were a cock. Is that what he looked like on his knees only a few moments ago?

His fingers and palm and the back of his hand glistened and his cheeks were red, growing darker by the second. Finally he pulled them out one last time a pop. A thick string of translucent saliva connected those fingers to his lips. Lan Xichen licked it away.

He looked between his fingers and Jiang Cheng again, seemingly coming to a decision before bending down beyond Jiang Cheng’s line of sight. Before Jiang Cheng could even begin to understand what Lan Xichen might be doing, a wet, hot something pressed against and inside him and Jiang Cheng’s breath froze in his lungs.

And before he could feel too weird about it, a wet finger pressed inside, this time until he was a full finger deep. It was unexpected and Jiang Cheng clenched down with a gasp.

With the quickly cooling and drying saliva, as well as the previous minor stretching, the slide was twice as easy. Lan Xichen went fast. In and out. In and out. Twisting up and down and around. He screwed his finger in on each thrust and damn his fingers were long.

It wasn’t long before the intrusion began to feel…not good, per se, but almost pleasurable, if he wanted it to, if he focused on it.

Soon, Lan Xichen’s other finger began to prod at his hole. With each thrust in he began to massage at the ring again until the muscle gave way and Jiang Cheng could feel the pressure of stretching again. The second finger was added.

Lan Xichen slowed down again but not by much. If one finger was beginning to feel good, two fingers were great. He hardly even noticed the stretch. His middle finger was longer than his first and it was reaching deeper. With each retreat he began to curl his fingers and twist before opening them, scissoring back and forth and Jiang Cheng couldn’t help the groan he let out at the sensation.

It was on another twisting thrust that the fingers brushed against something that sent tingling sensation through his body and Jiang Cheng gasped, freezing on the spot with eyes wide open. He heard a soft huff of what must have been amusement behind him.

“Apologies,” he heard from Lan Xichen, sounding almost breathless himself. “When you’re fingering someone, it helps if you can pleasure them through it. There is a spot inside, if pressed against, can feel very good.”

As if to prove his point, Lan Xichen stopped thrusting and instead began twisting and kneading and screwing against his spot and something liquid and molten built in his gut. He couldn’t help the shiver as Lan Xichen pressed in and electricity jolted through him and he moaned.

Fuck, he’s never felt like this before.

He felt his cheeks and chest warming. He felt his breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps as his own member began to fill. It felt heavy between his legs in the kneeling position he was in.

The bed dipped behind him. The weight in the arm thrusting the fingers inside him changed. A hand pushed him down further into the bed, holding his chest down against the sheets. He clenched his eyes shut and cried out as Lan Xichen stopped every other movement to press against that spot hard enough to make him see stars as his legs and arms went weak and his stomach jumped.

Somewhere amidst the haze of pleasure, Jiang Cheng felt more stretching and felt the flexing of three fingers against his hole. He whined high and throaty and pathetic. He was so hard it was beginning to hurt. He was sure his dick must’ve been an angry red to match the sheets and Lan Xichen’s face.

He blearily forced his eyes open and saw Lan Wangji watching him, his own pupils blown wide and his own length hard against his thigh. He was looking somewhere just below his face. Jiang Cheng followed his line of sight, wondering what could be so interesting. Ah, the bite mark, he realized.

Lan Wangji really had a thing for biting.

Jiang Cheng’s lips tingled and he shivered. He remembered the initial sting, the pull at his skin as Lan Wangji worried it between his teeth, and dull ache when he released as blood rushed back in. Heat ran through Jiang Cheng mixing with the pleasure from Lan Xichen and damn. It seemed Jiang Cheng had a thing for biting too.

Finally, Lan Xichen pulled out. Jiang Cheng almost whined at the emptiness and the loss of sensation. Almost.

He didn’t know this could feel this good. Back at Lotus Pier the guards did everything they could to hurt him. No matter how much they touched him, the intense pain that radiated through his entire body sullied the pleasure.

“Master,” Lan Xichen called in a harsh, breathy tone. It almost sounded like begging. He didn’t continue but he looked like he wanted to say more. To actually beg. To say, “Master please let me fuck him please please please.” 

At the mention of Wen Ruohan, all three of them turned back to him, suddenly remembering where they were and what was happening. Lan Xichen was better than him because if it were him fingering either brother like this, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself from simply taking what he wanted. And he found he wanted. His stretched hole clenched at nothing and something inside him buzzed, tortured by the lack of sensation and desperate for more.

Wen Ruohan was watching them with dark eyes. His hand stroked slowly up and down his fully erect cock. Jiang Cheng swallowed, the feeling and memory of it imprinted in his throat. He was definitely a grower. So that was why it suddenly became so hard to swallow him down.

“I said be selfish, didn’t I? Take what you want, Xichen. He’s for you tonight.”

Lan Xichen looked down at Jiang Cheng and Jiang Cheng stared right back. It was a testament to Lan Xichen’s self-control, and his, honestly, that neither one immediately demanded for the fucking.

“May I—” Lan Xichen started.

Jiang Cheng immediately cut him off with a desperate, “please.”

He watched Lan Xichen stroke himself. This was the first time he’d ever seen Lan Xichen’s body. His entire body was pure muscle. There was not an ounce of fat on him. The muscles in his arms flexed as his hand tightened on an upstroke on his long, thick dick. Lan Xichen was bigger than both Wen Ruohan and him in both length and width.

Suddenly Jiang Cheng wasn’t sure three fingers was enough prep.

As he watched, he heard commotion on his right. Wen Ruohan had sat up and pulled Lan Wangji up so that his head and upper body were resting in his lap. Lan Wangji had begun licking and sucking at the shaft until Wen Ruohan would get bored and force him to pleasure him.

Jiang Cheng wanted to offer some sort of help, but he knew it would be unwanted. He was trapped between helping either one of them and he had no say in what he did.

He frowned into the bedsheets. That feeling from before returned and made his stomach twist again and this time it wasn’t from pleasure. Jiang Cheng was a toy, it reminded him. He was there to be used by Wen Ruohan and against the Lan brothers. He didn’t matter here. He wouldn’t get a say. He was less than.

He felt his mind growing darker when something hard and hot and definitely thicker than three fingers pressed against his entrance.

“Don’t clench. Just breathe.”

Jiang Cheng grasped at the sheets and grit his teeth as he forced his body to relax while simultaneously feeling weak from the dark hole his mind was working its way into. He had no control anyways. The head of Lan Xichen’s cock breached him slowly and a wet groan slinked out from deep within his chest. It was so much bigger than the fingers and the pressure was intense and unyielding.

Lan Xichen thankfully moved slowly, though, from how hard he was, Jiang Cheng was sure it was killing him. One of his hands moved to his hips and gripped the skin there hard enough to bruise. The finger spanned his upper thigh and pressed him back onto that hard, hot, unrelenting dick forcing itself inside of him.

It was here, speared on Lan Xichen’s dick, that Jiang Cheng felt something inside himself give once more, just like when he’d crawled across the room. Lan Xichen was going to take. It didn’t matter what Jiang Cheng actually said or wanted. It didn’t matter what he thought. Wen Ruohan had told him to be selfish, and though he’d been kind up until this point, Wen Ruohan would force him to do more if he wasn’t satisfied with his performance.

Jiang Cheng loosed his grip on the sheets. He closed his eyes again and pressed his face into the bedding. He felt his muscles loosening and his body growing slack and heard Lan Xichen suck in a sharp breath as he suddenly pushed in deeper and faster. From there it was easy for him. He was quickly fully sheathed, hips to ass.

Jiang Cheng swallowed. He felt so full. He felt like if he swallowed hard enough he could feel Lan Xichen’s insanely long cock all the way into his throat. He could feel Lan Xichen’s chest heaving against him and his cock pulsing inside of him.

It was so big.

“Gods you’re so tight,” Lan Xichen breathed out.

They sat there for a few moments simply breathing together. Then, Lan Xichen began to pull out. The drag out was just as slow as his entrance and he heard Lan Xichen’s voice go high at the warm pressure of Jiang Cheng’s walls press against him as he moved. Each ridge and vein pressed against Jiang Cheng’s entrance as Lan Xichen pulled out until just the tip was still inside.

His other hand moved to his other hip. Both hands squeezed. Lan Xichen let out a shaky breath. Then, he was slamming back in. Jiang Cheng let out a shout as he was shoved forward from the thrust. Their hips met with a ringing slap. He did it again and again and Jiang Cheng sobbed as he was shoved further up the bed.

Each thrust pressed against a different spot inside of him until it found that place again and Jiang Cheng’s body jolted. He heard a soft laugh above him as Lan Xichen thrust in again. He grinded his hips against his ass, pressing once more against his prostrate and Jiang Cheng moaned as his hips twitched.

It went on like this. Lan Xichen would thrust with abandon, hips slapping against his cheeks and sending him nearly ass overhead before slamming in and screwing against that spot inside him. Each thrust left him crying out and each grind left him moaning.

It wasn’t long before he was meeting each thrust, chasing after his own orgasm, which is not something he expected himself to want out of this, if he were honest.

It took everything in him to free one of his hands when Lan Xichen ground into that spot that sent electricity through his veins. As soon as he did, his hand was immediately on his own weeping cock desperately stroking it hard and fast. The pressure in his stomach was building. The pleasure was ratcheting up inside him as his gut tightened. Lan Xichen slammed into him with a particularly deep and well-aimed thrust and Jiang Cheng felt his stomach tightening.

“Fuck, Lan Xichen. Right there,” he moaned.

The pace was brutal but it was oh so good and Jiang Cheng didn’t want it to end. It was okay he was being used. Lan Xichen could be selfish. Jiang Cheng would take it. He could take it. He wanted to take it.

“Oh, gods,” he cried into the sheets.

In an instant the air changed. One moment he was on the bed, the next he was on the floor. Jiang Cheng, still coming down from the high of being fucked, panted and heaved and couldn’t make sense of the changes in position. He was so hard it hurt. His back and side and butt smarted from being thrown and being fucked. It took him a few moments to catch up to what had happened and what was still happening.

Wen Ruohan standing over him looking more pissed off than Jiang Cheng could’ve ever imagined. His nose flared. His face was contorted in fury, with mouth twisted and eyes glaring.

He chanced a glance at Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji, who were peering over the edge of the bed. Lan Xichen’s chest was heaving and red and his pupils were blown but he stared with something Jiang Cheng could only describe as fear. Lan Wangji’s hair was a matted mess at the nape of his neck, his hairband askew on his forehead, and his lips and eyes swollen, his face wet. He was looking at Jiang Cheng as though he wanted to ask what was going on. Jiang Cheng only wished he knew.

Without saying anything more, Wen Ruohan once more grabbed Jiang Cheng by the hair and threw him face down into the bed and the Lan brothers scrambled back. He undid the ribbon in his hair with one hand and gathered Jiang Cheng’s wrists in the other. He maneuvered his arms until each hand was pressed against an elbow and then began to bind them. Jiang Cheng moaned out in pain. The bindings were way too tight, cutting off circulation in his arms and not allowing for any movement at all.

When he was finished, Wen Ruohan once more grabbed him by the hair and pulled him up. Jiang Cheng let out a shriek as the strands pulled sharply against his scalp as he was pulled back. His back was pressed against Wen Ruohan’s chest. He continued to pull Jiang Cheng’s head back until it was painful and his mouth dropped open from the strain.

“You will never,” he growled, “touch yourself without permission. Do you understand?”

Jiang Cheng whimpered. Wen Ruohan pulled his neck back farther.

“Do you understand?” He demanded.

“Yes!” Jiang Cheng shouted.

Wen Ruohan let him fall forward and without his hands he fell face first into the bed. He tried to situate himself but Wen Ruohan grabbed him by his arm and flipped him around so he was lying on his back and bound arms.

Wen Ruohan glared down at him and Jiang Cheng swallowed. He would never forget kneeling in front of Wen Chao and feeling smaller than a bug existing to be squashed. Coreless and in pain, Jiang Cheng sat there fearing for his life not knowing what Wen Chao would do next. The fear returned tenfold as Jiang Cheng saw the pure rage in Wen Ruohan’s face.

Jiang Cheng wasn’t imaginative. He was never one to play pretend or allow for fanciful daydreams. He wasn’t too creative either. He was set in stone, focused, usually unable to see past what was in front of him, his future, and his own thoughts and decisions. Even now, faced with Wen Ruohan, Jiang Cheng had no possible idea what Wen Ruohan might do to punish him for this.

It made sense. Jiang Cheng didn’t know why he didn’t think of this. He should’ve known. He was stupid. He should never have given in. He should’ve known he wasn’t allowed to pleasure himself. He wasn’t even allowed to figure out how to prep himself on his own, never mind touch himself or make himself feel good.

How many times did he have to tell himself: he didn’t matter here.

“You want to finish so badly?” Wen Ruohan seethed.

Jiang Cheng shook his head and gasped out, “No! I—”

Wen Ruohan slapped him. “Don’t lie to me, you little whore.” Jiang Cheng jerked like he’d been slapped again. “I saw the way you touched yourself when you were supposed to be pleasuring Lan Xichen. So desperate. So selfish. Is the only person you care about yourself, hmm?” Jiang Cheng swallowed again. He wanted to respond but didn’t know what he could say or do to defend himself and appease the man looming above him. “Look at what you’ve gotten the three of you into. And you continue to take and take and take.” He leaned in closer. “Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji are both here because of you. Your parents and your sect and that boy Wei Wuxian will forever be lost because of you. And yet you think you deserve to even touch yourself let alone finish?”

Jiang Cheng stared up at him with tears welling in his eyes. This was not his fault. It wasn’t. None of this would have happened if Wen Ruohan hadn’t had his son attack Lotus Pier. None of them would be here if it weren’t for Wen Ruohan!

He wasn’t selfish. He lost his core and was willing to lose his life for Wei Wuxian! He ran hundreds of miles just to free Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji from the cave! He sacrificed so much just to try to please his parents every single day! Everything he had ever done has been for the sect, for his family, for the future…everything he’d never have again.

“Please…just kill me,” he begged with a sob. “Let me die, please!”

Wen Ruohan sat back. “You’ve been asking for this the entire time. Why do you think I would grant this to you?” He grasped at Jiang Cheng’s neck, feeling the hitches in his breaths as more sobs left him entirely unbidden. His hand moved down to his chest, feeling along the still fresh scar tissue. He moved further down to his stomach and stopped there, hand flat, pressing against where his new golden core was spinning. “Why do you think I would allow an anomaly such as you to die?”

Jiang Cheng blinked up at him through teary eyes.

“Xichen. Wangji. Get dressed.”

Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji scrambled to obey, not wanting to make the situation any worse. Wen Ruohan pulled away and went to the door. He said something to someone on the other side then returned to the bed. By the time he was back, Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen were both dressed and were standing off to the side away from the bed.

The door opened and four guards entered with two blindfolds.

“You two will return to your rooms. There is no need for you to see what will be coming next for Jiang Wanyin. This goes without saying, touching yourself without permission, pleasuring yourself without permission, will be punished swiftly, and without mercy.”

Lan Xichen looked between Wen Ruohan and Jiang Cheng and the approaching soldiers.

“Please, Master, this was our first night. It was the first time Jiang Wanyin has ever—”

Lan Xichen instantly cut himself off when the hairpin was back on the same spot as before. Lan Wangji grabbed Lan Xichen’s arm and pulled him back to his side.

They did not fight as the soldiers approached with the blindfolds. The allowed the fabric to be tied around their eyes. Then, they allowed themselves to be ushered out.

Jiang Cheng watched, silent, as they left, wondering if this meant Jiang Cheng alone were to be punished this time, and what that punishment would be.

Chapter Text

The door closed behind the Lan brothers with startling finality. Jiang Cheng stared at the now empty space, desperately yearning for their return, refusing to acknowledge the reality of his newfound situation.

Wen Ruohan sat heavily down beside him. The mattress sunk with his weight and Jiang Cheng began to slide off the edge and down closer to monster lurking above him.

He wanted to run, to hide, his instincts screaming at him to get away, but he didn’t dare move. It didn’t matter his bound arms beneath grew numb and his legs scrambled for purchase against the platform the bed was on. He was too scared to even breathe too loudly in the silent bedchambers, a world away from the noise and chaos of mere moments before, let alone adjust for his own comfort.

Instead, in his frozen terror, he kept his wide, wet eyes on Wen Ruohan, waiting for him to do something.

The man simply stared down at him as though he were a frustrating puzzle. It was a stark contrast to the barely controlled violent rage. Jiang Cheng half expected him to begin blindly beating him as soon as the Twin Jades left. The fact that he wasn’t, that he turned that anger into cold calculation was more horrifying than anything else Jiang Cheng had experienced thus far.

It meant he had ideas. It meant Jiang Cheng was about to go through hell.

He sniffled, fighting the hot tears still trickling down his face. He swallowed down the sobs. He was already so weak. He didn’t want the man to know how truly scared he was. It would only be used against him.

Wen Ruohan toyed with the hairpin. Jiang Cheng watched his deft fingers move up and down the pin almost reverently, as though the pin itself held secrets formerly unknown.

Still, the silence wore on.

Jiang Cheng could hardly remember a time before he spent nearly every day terrified for his life. The death and destruction ravaging Lotus Pier ravaged something inside of Jiang Cheng. It left him near desperate to survive, with a healthy dose of mortal terror to spur him on.

This fear, here, in these bedchambers was entirely unique to him, as a cultivator, as a young master of the gentry, as a person. He need not fear capture or death, here. He need not fear punishments like he did as a child. Once again, the closest comparison he had was when he lost his core, and Wen Chao practically promised him death, eventually. Here, Wen Ruohan decided Jiang Cheng didn’t deserve death for his many transgressions. According to his new master he deserved to endure. Jiang Cheng didn’t need to fear punishment. It was expected. Torture was the new status quo. What he truly needed to fear was surviving it.

Finally, Wen Ruohan stood.

Jiang Cheng sat up with rapt attention, a shiver going down his spine as the man finally moved. He crossed the room to the wardrobe in the far corner to rummage through until he pulled something out. What, Jiang Cheng couldn’t see.

He watched as, instead of returning to the bed once he’d procured his item as Jiang Cheng expected, he turned to a tea brazier. Jiang Cheng’s heartbeat ratcheted up as Wen Ruohan lit it with cultivation. Then, he poured water into a teapot.

Anxiety roiled in his stomach to mix with the nausea and exhaustion which were already there as images flashed through his mind’s eye. Again, Jiang Cheng wasn’t imaginative, but it was easy to picture: his hands being submerged in boiling water; being forced to drink boiling water, causing extreme burns to the inside of his mouth and throat; the water being poured over his genitalia; the water being poured inside of him (not something he’d thought about previously, but nuggets of information tended to resurface at the worst of times, like the knowledge that people cleansed their insides with water sometimes).

All would be fitting punishments for his supposed crimes against Wen Ruohan.

Wen Ruohan left the water to boil and fetched two bowls from another table near the balcony doors. One of them was full of the water Lan Wangji had poured earlier and the other was empty. He place them next to the brazier along with whatever he’d removed from the wardrobe and a spare towel.

It was only once these items were in place that he returned to the bed.

Jiang Cheng fought the urge to squirm. Wen Ruohan stood in front of him, staring down at him and roving his gaze over his extremely naked body. Jiang Cheng knew he could see the fluttering of his chest. His heart beat in his ears and his face was so hot. But sitting in front of Wen Ruohan completely naked like this left him stiff and cold, his fear holding him down and still like solid shackles. He swallowed down a whine.

He could see his previously discarded flimsy robe in his peripheral and gods what he wouldn’t do to don it once more. He knew it was hardly anything. But damn it was something. Some sort of armor against whatever was to come. He didn’t think about how similar his sentiments were to a desperate child clutching onto a loved blanket or stuffed toy.

And still, the bastard wasn’t fucking talking. Jiang Cheng wanted to scream.

WHY WASN’T HE TALKING?  

He would take anything, anything, over enduring the silence.

Wen Ruohan reached out a hand below his line of sight and Jiang Cheng felt his breath stutter again instinctually. He didn’t dare move to track where the hand had gone.

He flinched violently when those warm fingers caressed the delicate, fragile column of his neck, near the wounds from the hairpin. Wen Ruohan’s lips twitched at his reaction. He huffed in what Jiang Cheng could only consider amusement.

His touch meandered. His thumb landed just below his neck, brushing almost reverently against the wounds, no doubt taking joy in the tiny beads of blood which had long since dried. The wounds were shallow, hardly concerning enough to even call pricks. The sting was like that of a papercut, sharp, loud, but otherwise negligible.

There were a few moments where he merely petted the skin there. He thumb moved in a hypnotic circular motion, so gentle, so different from everything else that night. Jiang Cheng swallowed, the thumb lifting slightly as his throat bobbed. Then, he pressed in. His fingers became an aching bruise against his skin and Jiang Cheng closed his eyes and tightened his fist as he fought to control his reflexes to get away. It would be so easy for Wen Ruohan to move lower, press in, truly choking him.

The pressure receded soon after until it returned with a sharp biting vengeance as Wen Ruohan pressed a nail into one of the wounds. Jiang Cheng bit his lip against the sting and the ache but didn’t react otherwise.

Wen Ruohan’s other hand reached out to grab the pin again. Jiang Cheng watched him move it to where his nail pressed into the wound. Jiang Cheng was sure he could feel how his breath quivered and quickened.

Wen Ruohan then let out a long sigh. “I thought you were smarter than this, Young Master Jiang.”

“I-I—“

He felt the sharp tip of the pin jab into his neck and he tensed against it.

“If I wanted you to speak, I would have said so. The last thing I want is to hear your voice. Your excuses, as pathetic as they no doubt would be, do not interest me.”

There was no doubt in his mind Wen Ruohan would pour the water down his throat. He rubbed his tongue along the roof of his mouth, already dreading the raw, swollen roughness that it would cause to his palate. He wouldn’t be able to eat or drink. He wouldn’t be able to swallow.

Jiang Cheng shook in his grasp, fighting the tears that wanted to fall again.

Then, he was gone. In the blink of an eye Wen Ruohan had removed himself from both Jiang Cheng and the bed only to return just as quickly with a towel and a long ribbon. Jiang Cheng could have sobbed in relief.

He could tell where this was now going and he relaxed into the sheets knowing it wouldn’t end the way he’d expected. This he would take happily. His pride might have taken some hits this night but he wasn’t stupid. He opened his mouth without Wen Ruohan having to tell him to.

The dry towel was shoved none-too-gently inside, knocking against his teeth. Wen Ruohan shoved it so far back and down Jiang Cheng instantly began to gag but had no way to relieve himself of the feeling of choking. As soon as the towel was fully inserted, Wen Ruohan grabbed him by the hair again and quickly wrapped the ribbon around his head. It was long enough to wrap around multiple times and with each new layer it pulled tighter and tighter, causing him to squeeze his eyes shut as they watered from the pressure.

He was forced to bite down to hold the towel in place as the ribbon wrapped tighter until it was secured at the back of his head. He tried to make any sound at all but nothing could escape beside soft huffs of struggling breaths and quieted throaty groans as he tried to adjust. He tried to push at the towel with his tongue and position his teeth to make it more comfortable but it was impossible. It was simply too big. It took up the entire space of his mouth. His jaw instantly began to ache.

Wen Ruohan released his hair and he fell back into the bed. Each miniscule movement strained the ribbon and put pressure on his neck, jaw, and inside his throat. Breathing was difficult and he struggled to let out the quickest huffs just to keep himself conscious.

And again, the sharp pressure of the pin returned. Jiang Cheng got the hint. No moving. No doing anything without expressed permission. He stared up at the ceiling, feeling the tip of the pin begin to trace sharp lines along the skin of his chest and torso. It almost felt like nails scratching along his body.

He pictured Lan Xichen and thought of his hands as they glided down his back before prepping him. He’d shivered in uncomfortable anticipation at the time. After a little experience, he knew the pin, and the nails, would’ve felt good in any other circumstance. Instead, it only left him in silent trepidation.

“You were doing so well. You showed understanding, intelligence, enthusiasm, obedience. You were such a good example for those ignorant Lans. Why did you ruin it…hmm? Did you think I would simply allow you to pleasure yourself? Did you think you earned permission?”

Jiang Cheng hadn’t been thinking anything of the sort, actually. What he’d been thinking at the time was that he wanted to come and Lan Xichen was fucking him so well he’d gotten lost in the pleasure. In a way Lan Xichen was correct. Jiang Cheng had never felt anything like that before. It was an entirely unique experience. The sensations took him by surprise.

It was pure instinct! It certainly wasn’t his fault no one bothered to fuck him like that before, or pleasure him at all, for that matter!

Naturally, because of the gag, he couldn’t explain this—not that Wen Ruohan would’ve wanted to hear it if he could. It appeared he actually didn’t care about why anyone would do anything if it went against his wishes. That they’d done it was a crime deserving of extreme punishment.

Wen Ruohan tossed the hairpin away. This time Jiang Cheng heard the pinging of it as it hit the tile and skidded across the room. He didn’t know what this meant for him and was too focused on the pin to be able to prepare for when Wen Ruohan took his dick in hand.

Jiang Cheng sucked in a breath but only ended up swallowing more towel. His throat and mouth spasmed around it. He shuddered and twisted as his body tried to cough to expel it and failed. His face grew hotter and his nose began to run. He sniffled desperately a few times trying to take in air.

His predicament concerned Wen Ruohan little as he began to move his hand up from the base all the way to the tip in one long, agonizingly slow stroke. Then he did it again. His grasp wasn’t too tight or too loose, holding Jiang Cheng with just the right amount of pressure.

Jiang Cheng felt himself growing hard under the ministrations. Warmth bloomed in his belly, growing like the tide slowly washing up a beach with each new wave The pleasure was slow and subtle just like the hand job, if it could even be called such a thing. His movements could hardly even be considered stroking but it couldn’t be anything else.

On one of the upstrokes he pressed his thumb into the exposed spongey head and Jiang Cheng whined into the gag as precum spurt out over Wen Ruohan’s fingers. On the next stroke down, there was a distinct slick feeling as the precum eased the slide of Wen Ruohan’s hand on him. His muscles tensed and he fought desperately against the urge to thrust into that hand. He bit down on the towel to fight against the groan threatening to release.

Wen Ruohan was toying with his body. Playing. He knew what he was doing and the affect it was having on Jiang Cheng no matter how hard Jiang Cheng fought showing him.

The only sounds in the room were his struggled breathing, muffled and bitten-back keens and whines and moans, and the slick sound of Wen Ruohan stroking him. Jiang Cheng closed his eyes and felt himself tensing as the pleasure grew and grew, building up in him.

He wasn’t close to coming. That much he could tell. For now he was simply basking in the feeling of another’s hand on him that was actually making him feel good.

He only wished the person doing this to him were Lan Xichen or Lan Wangji.

The thought startled him out of the pleasure-filled haze he was falling into in time for him to be fully aware when Wen Ruohan pulled away. He was left hard and leaking against his stomach as Wen Ruohan returned to the brazier. His dick jumped and twitched with each heaved breath and Jiang Cheng felt that heat now down to his neck and chest as the bed beneath him grew damp.

He was so focused on the sensations he forgot about the brazier and the water but he returned to himself quickly. He heard some sort of pinging and the shhh of hot boiling water pouring into a bowl. His mind reeled. Just what was Wen Ruohan planning if he wasn’t going to use the water on him? He heard him moving about but couldn’t look without putting pressure on his head and so was forced to rely on sound alone.

He heard the clanging of metal and then there came the sound of sizzling. It sounded almost like pork being seared on a burning hot pan without the splattering oil. There was a few moments of silence before Wen Ruohan returned to his side with an object.

It was a small piece of metal about as thin as his pinky and only about as long as a paint brush. He held it up in front of Jiang Cheng’s face so he could get a good look at it. With this view he could see one end was slightly thinner than the other, looking almost like a chopstick. The bigger end had two deep notches in it.

Jiang Cheng stared at the metal rod and found his brows furrowing. What the fuck was he going to do with that?

“Do you know what this is?”

Jiang Cheng stared, waiting for the explanation. Wen Ruohan didn’t continue. Did he…did he want a response? Now he all of a sudden wanted Jiang Cheng’s input? Jiang Cheng shook his head and winced as it pulled at the hair on the nape of his neck. He had no idea what this was or what it could possibly be used for.

“This,” he explained, “is a sounding rod.”

Jiang Cheng blinked. That did absolutely nothing for him. It had been a while since he touched an instrument but weren’t sounding rods tuning tools? Different rods were built to be perfectly tuned to different notes and when you hit them you used the note to tune your instrument. Right? This looked nothing like a sounding rod, at least, not one Jiang Cheng had ever seen before.

Wen Ruohan chuckled above him. “Ah, young masters, educated in only so much the world has to offer,” he said, seemingly to himself. “There are two different types of sounding rods. The one you’re more familiar with is for tuning instruments. This one”—he waved the rod in front of Jiang Cheng’s face—“is for medical use. It’s also called a urethral sound.”

Ur…eth…ral?

THAT THING IS GOING IN HIS—

Jiang Cheng immediately began to struggle. He tried to sit up and roll away while attempting to free his arms but Wen Ruohan was faster than him. He grabbed Jiang Cheng and shoved him face first into the bedding with a knee pressing down on his lower back just beneath his bound arms.

Jiang Cheng snarled behind the gag. He tried to fight Wen Ruohan off, kicking at him and bucking and thrashing but nothing worked. Wen Ruohan was simply too strong with his core locked away like it was.

He felt his body weaken in slow increments as his lungs burned the longer his head was shoved into the sheets. He was running out of air. He made one last valiant effort to throw Wen Ruohan off but he knew it was useless. He was going to pass out. Just as black dots began dancing across his vision, hanging onto threads of consciousness, Wen Ruohan yanked his head up. Jiang Cheng greedily sucked in as deep breaths through his nose as he could manage around the towel.

Then his face was shoved back into the bed. Jiang Cheng cried out again as the air left his lungs far quicker than before. He was back on the precipice of unconsciousness as his body begged for relief.

As though Wen Ruohan could tell right as he was about to pass out, he pulled him up again. This time he only let him get in a breath before doing it again. With each shove back into the bedding Jiang Cheng felt the fight leave him as his body grew more and more desperate for air.

After another few times, Wen Ruohan finally loosened his hold in his hair. Jiang Cheng was exhausted. His face wasn’t pressed into the bedding but he could barely move anymore, unable to lift his head to the side. His chest heaved. His hair was wet and stuck to his neck and shoulders. His body was weak and shaking.

Wen Ruohan rolled him over onto his back once again to face him. He pushed him further up the bed and knelt down on top of Jiang Cheng’s now loosely splayed thighs, holding him in place. Jiang Cheng blinked bleary eyes up at him, all the fight gone.

The sound once more came into his line of vision and Jiang Cheng let out a pathetic keen from high in the back of his throat. He couldn’t watch this. He was going to ruin him. He clenched his eyes shut and tilted his head to the side.

Wen Ruohan was going to do this whether he wanted him to or not. He didn’t need Jiang Cheng to see it.

He felt a hand on his dick again. Something cold and solid touched against the head. Jiang Cheng clenched his eyes tighter. His heart beat in his ears. He felt as it swirled around the tip, seemingly looking for something before it found it. The slit. Jiang Cheng’s stomach flip-flopped and his body tensed.

Wen Ruohan pressed the tip of the sound into the miniscule opening and held it there as Jiang Cheng groaned at the intrusion, squeezing his eyes tighter and clenching his fists. It wasn’t too much. Not yet, at least. It more felt like someone pressing against the head and fingering at it, like Wen Ruohan had done earlier, like Jiang Cheng enjoyed when he touched himself. Still, as Wen Ruohan swirled the sound around, twisting it, almost as though he were turning a screw, Jiang Cheng knew. This was just the beginning.

He held himself tight as a coil as he waited for more. He couldn’t relax. He could barely breathe. Not when Wen Ruohan was so dangerously toying with Jiang Cheng’s most sensitive parts.

Then, Wen Ruohan pushed slowly into the small opening.

Jiang Cheng cried out, burrowing his head into the bedding.

All of his attention went to his urethra. Everything about it was intense. The rod was too big. He could feel every centimeter being pushed further inside him. The stretch was sharp and felt like it was cutting into him, tearing, burning its way down further in-inside his…Jiang Cheng shuddered against his will from the sensations. He couldn’t help tensing, tightening around the rod and making everything worse. He couldn’t calm down.

It took any remaining breath from his lungs. His body spasmed. It was so much. Too much. He couldn’t take it. He began to cry in earnest, harsh, hiccupping sobs fighting to escape from behind the towel.

There was no way this was for medical use. This was a torture device!

Finally, after an agonizingly long few moments, Jiang Cheng felt when Wen Ruohan stopped pushing it in and let go. The sound was firmly inside of him.

Wen Ruohan’s hands moved from his dick to grip his hair again in a tight fist, pulling his head up.

He heaved through the gag and through his nose. He still couldn’t catch his breath. Wen Ruohan practically folded him in half the way he held him suspended by his hair.

Jiang Cheng wanted to struggle to try to free himself from his bonds but quickly found this to be a terrible idea. No matter how much he wanted to dislodge Wen Ruohan’s grip and control, he discovered any movement in his lower body jostled the sound and added to the insurmountable pressure and ache.

More burning tears seeped out from the corners of his eyes and down his cheeks.

“Open your eyes. Look.”

Jiang Cheng shook his head while attempting to keep his body still. Wen Ruohan let out a growl. It was Jiang Cheng’s only warning before sharp, hot pain radiated from his dick where Wen Ruohan slammed his hand down onto his abused member. Jiang Cheng let out a scream as his entire abdomen felt as though it were on fire.

Wen Ruohan roughly shook Jiang Cheng’s head again. “Open. Your. Eyes. Or else you will experience far worse than this.”

Jiang Cheng sobbed helplessly and opened his eyes through his tears to look at what Wen Ruohan had done to him.

The rod was sticking out. It held his dick ramrod straight, staunching any movement or natural curve. At the base, an all-encompassing sharp and aching pressure pushed against his groin to radiate through his entire abdomen. The ache was similar to when someone held their urine for far too long. It made him feel sick. His body spasmed again.

Wen Ruohan continued to hold his head up and forced him to watch as he took hold of the sound again. Jiang Cheng shook his head. No! Please! He wanted to beg. Instead, he watched with wide horrified eyes as Wen Ruohan ripped the sound out.

Jiang Cheng shrieked.

His body arched up as the rod almost felt like it pulled him up with it. Every muscle tensed and froze and seized like he’d been struck by lightning. It felt like a thousand splinters being removed all at once; like being stabbed by a sword; like when the guards forced him to take two of them in his ass at once and they cut him open to accommodate.

Then, just like that, Wen Ruohan was shoving it in again.

Jiang Cheng screamed again so loudly his throat grew raw and sore.

Wen Ruohan was cruel. He twisted and jabbed and used the edge to bend and prod at Jiang Cheng’s dick from inside of it. He thrusted in and out at a punishing pace that stabbed at his bladder. On one of the thrusts and a particularly sharp jab that left Jiang Cheng howling, he swore he saw blood coating the sound as he pulled it out again.

Jiang Cheng was beyond reason. He bucked and twisted trying to get away from it but he had nowhere to go. Wen Ruohan’s weight was solid against his and held his hips and thighs still and his grip in his hair was secure.

Jiang Cheng didn’t know how many times Wen Ruohan did this before finally, finally, he climbed off.

Jiang Cheng sagged into the bed, crying and trying to beg behind the gag. All of the sounds were muffled and the towel’s sheer size made it nearly impossible to form words.

He was sorry. He was never going to touch himself again. He’d rather Wen Ruohan castrate him or remove his genitalia entirety than do this again. He’d be good. He’d be a good hole, a good toy, letting Lan Xichen or whoever do whatever they wanted to him.

His sobbing grew harsher. Breathing became panting and all at once it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t get any air in his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. He tried to push around the gag, open his throat, suck in more air. He spasmed and struggled and did everything he could to work the ribbon off. He was panicking.

He felt hands on him again and he shook his head wildly trying to beg Wen Ruohan not to. He couldn’t take it again. He couldn’t do it. Please don’t make him take it. Please. Please. Please.

His gravity shifted as he was moved from soft bedding to lean against something warm and solid. The pressure around his mouth and jaw relented and the fabric was pulled away. Then the spit-soaked towel was removed.

Immediately Jiang Cheng could breathe easier. And with it, his sobbing grew loud and rough and almost violent. He was in so much pain. He still felt like something was stabbing his bladder. Wen Ruohan had caused some sort of serious damage and he didn’t know what it was and if it had permanent consequences and he couldn’t even heal himself with this stupid fucking useless core that got him stuck here in the first place—

With his breath back and his mouth free Jiang Cheng couldn’t stop the pleas spilling from his lips.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I won’t do it again. I promise. I won’t. I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s my fault. I don’t deserve pleasure. Please, I’m sorry. I’ll be good. I—”

His head was directed to rest against something and Jiang Cheng couldn’t help but lean into the comfort. A hand came to rest on his head and began to pet his hair, smoothing it down and scrunching at his scalp. He heard and felt vibrations in the chest he rested against.

“Shh…” Wen Ruohan hushed. “I know you’re sorry. I know you will be good, because I will ensure it. Calm down and breathe. You don’t have to apologize anymore.”

His voice was soft and warm and soothing and Jiang Cheng found himself calming in slow increments. His sobs turned to cries turned to hiccups and coughs. His pleas stopped, replaced with sniffles and thick swallows and desperate attempts to stop the heaving of his lungs and chest.

He sagged into Wen Ruohan’s lap. The man was all hard muscle and solid build. He was so much bigger than Jiang Cheng in height and body mass that he fully encompassed him with how Jiang Cheng was curled into him.

“That’s it. There you go. Calm yourself. Breathe.”

Jiang Cheng swallowed again, breathing out with a thick ghuh sound. He stared blankly past Wen Ruohan’s arm at the far wall, vision bleary and swimming. He couldn’t close his mouth without staunching his breathing again so he was forced to pant soft breaths into Wen Ruohan’s chest. And still the man rubbed in soothing gestures at his back and head.

Somewhere through the haze of the panic and fear and pain and exhaustion, Jiang Cheng wondered if this is what it was like to be held by a father, and if that were the case, how lucky Wen Chao and Wen Xu were to have Wen Ruohan as their parent. Did Wen Ruohan hold them like this too?

Jiang Cheng didn’t know how long they sat there. It was long enough for his breathing to entirely even out and for the snot and tears on his face to dry. It was long enough for his skin to grow chilly and for his eyes to fully swell. He began to doze, blinking occasionally with each blink lasting longer until it felt like he’d manage to rest for some time.

The vibrations from Wen Ruohan speaking above him brought him back. “What do you think I was trying to teach you from this?”

Jiang Cheng sniffled once then cleared his throat. “Not to touch myself without permission,” he whispered.

“Yes, we’ve established that,” he heard Wen Ruohan huff. The sound was light and warm, like standing in a flash of sunlight after walking in the shade. “But you can do better than that. What else might I have wanted you to gain from this experience?”

Jiang Cheng wracked his muddled brain to try to come up with something to say that wouldn’t get him punished again. “That…um…I don’t control what happens to my body? That I don’t deserve to feel good?” They weren’t statements but Jiang Cheng didn’t know what the correct answers were. He couldn’t think through the thick fog in his head.

He felt a puff of air over the crown of his hair and the quirk of Wen Ruohan’s lips as he pressed a light kiss there. “I suppose I’ll accept those for now.” He rubbed more at Jiang Cheng’s back. “Do you feel like you’ve calmed down?”

Jiang Cheng nodded.

“Good. Because that was only the beginning of your lesson.” Jiang Cheng was on edge again. “You still have to go through your punishment.”

Jiang Cheng sat back and stared up at him with wide, wavering eyes. That wasn’t punishment? He’d just been tortured. Wen Ruohan had just maimed him. How was that not punishment?

“N-“ Jiang Cheng began and then cut himself off. He wasn’t allowed to say no. His body wasn’t his own to control. Wen Ruohan owned him.

The reality of this was only now truly sinking in.

Gods…he was sadistic.

Wen Ruohan laid him back down onto the bed and took hold of the rod again. Jiang Cheng closed his eyes, bracing for the pain he knew was coming. Yet, it didn’t came. Instead, Wen Ruohan stood from the bed. Jiang Cheng opened his eyes and saw him wipe the rod off with a wet towel and then dry it before going back to his desk. He swiped a piece of paper off of it and then returned to the bed.

He once more knelt on Jiang Cheng’s hips and thighs, holding him in place. Jiang Cheng licked his lips. There were cracks in the skin on the corners that hurt. He watched as Wen Ruohan infused the paper with qi. A fire talisman. He ran the rod through the fire until he deemed it hot enough.

Jiang Cheng’s breath caught in his throat and his entire body tensed. No. No way. He couldn’t…He wouldn’t…If Jiang Cheng weren’t so tired, he was sure he would’ve been screaming and crying and fighting but he was worn out. There was nothing left. Instead, the only show of fear was the quiet whimper that escaped his sore, ravaged throat.

He blinked, watching as Wen Ruohan used the towel that was in Jiang Cheng’s mouth to wipe at the rod. It sizzled as steam rose from it.

He watched as Wen Ruohan brought it down closer to his body. Wen Ruohan grasped his dick in one hand. His gaze flicked up to Jiang Cheng. They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment. Jiang Cheng silently begged him not to while all he could see in Wen Ruohan was a sick glee knowing the torture he was about to inflict on him.

Time moved slower as he watched Wen Ruohan thumb at his previously primed and still bleeding slit. He dipped a nail into it. The rod moved closer and closer. It was still smoking. Jiang Cheng could feel the heat radiating off of it.

Jiang Cheng felt his eyes widen even more, growing to the size of saucers. He watched as the rod was positioned right up against the tip.

Jiang Cheng threw his head back in a silent scream before darkness overtook him.

He woke up the way one dug themselves out of their own grave, slowly, and fighting for every breath.

The first thing he noticed was the ache in his knees and his dick and lower back. Somehow his knees were pulled up near his head by something. Probably rope, if he had to guess, but his mind wasn’t moving quickly enough to for him connect the dots.

Jiang Cheng attempted to look at his predicament but could see nothing behind the blindfold wrapped around his head. It squeezed his temples and pushed at his eyes. The edges of the fabric were so tight against his face he could actually feel the fabric cutting and rubbing against his skin, specifically at his cheeks.

Instead he felt around wriggling his limbs and body. From what he could tell, he was sitting in a wooden chair. His legs were bound in a kneeling position, with his shins and ankles tied to his thighs. His ankles were bound to the outer side of the chair’s arms. He was almost folded in half in an armchair.

The second thing he noticed was one that should have been far more obvious than it initially was. Something was rhythmically slapping against his ass cheeks, pushing him up and into the back of the chair. Each thrust pulled at his shoulders and arms which were bound behind the chair and jostled his tightly bound legs.

He was being fucked.

Jiang Cheng attempted to blink behind the blindfold in utter confusion. He could not comprehend what was happening. He was definitely being fucked. The movements coming from the person above him were impossible to label as anything else. And yet…he could feel nothing.

There was a sensation of a stretch just at the rim of his hole. He could feel something being inserted and then being removed rapidly along with a body looming over him, hips slapping against hips. But besides that he couldn’t feel it. It was as though his insides were numb.

Perhaps it was because he’d adjusted to the feeling of being gagged that he didn’t even notice the intrusion until he tried to grunt out at a particularly hard thrust that knocked his head back and slammed his knee into the edge of the chair.

He was definitely gagged but it almost felt like a cock. The gag filled his mouth and went all the down into the back of his throat, holding that tight space open, making swallowing impossible and breathing difficult. He licked and bit and sucked at the intrusion trying to understand what it was and it seemed to be some sort of stone. It was smooth like river stones. Maybe jade?

Soon the thrusting stopped. Hands grasped at his knees, clutching them like a lifeline, and pushed them further back into the chair. Jiang Cheng groaned at the stretch in his hips and hamstrings. The person above him ignored his discomfort. The hands crushing the joints in his knees didn’t move until seemingly the person was finished. He was sure the fingers would leave bruises.

The hands were then on his head. They undid the clasp of the gag behind his head and yanked the gag out. Jiang Cheng choked violently, feeling his throat close up and his stomach jump like he was puking even though nothing came out but saliva. It dripped down the corners of his lips.

Jiang Cheng barely had a moment to breathe before the hands pulled him forward and something else was shoved down his throat. Jiang Cheng choked at the rough entrance but found swallowing it was actually pretty easy. The gag apparently helped relax his gag reflex.

His mouth was filled with the taste of semen. He was dismayed to find he actually recognized the taste. He already knew this was Wen Ruohan but the taste of the semen confirmed it.

Wen Ruohan moved in and out with minuscule thrusts before fully sheathing himself inside of Jiang Cheng’s throat. Once there, he paused. He heard him breathing harshly somewhere just above his head. His hands held Jiang Cheng’s head still with both hands, keeping him in the position they wanted him in.

Wen Ruohan recovered quickly and began to occasionally grind against his mouth. The action rubbed the man’s groin into his face against his nose and chin. Jiang Cheng breathed in thick, course pubic hair and felt Wen Ruohan’s balls slap and rub against his chin.

Jiang Cheng lapped at Wen Ruohan and swallowed around him but otherwise did nothing to pleasure him.

The longer he sat there with nothing but a cock in his mouth, the more he felt and understood his predicament, and he was pissed about it. The fucking had distracted him. It made him put all of his focus on his hamstrings and knees and lower back and his poor head which had knocked far too many times into the back of the chair.

Now, with all movement stopped, he became intimately aware of aching throughout his entire groin. Something was tight and squeezing around the base of both his dick and his balls. They were tied tight enough to make Jiang Cheng feel like circulation was being cut off.

His balls had been separated by the rope or thread or whatever it was, stretching them, and making the ache worse. His cock was erect. Considering he couldn’t feel the fucking, and therefore couldn’t feel pleasure, he figured Wen Ruohan had purposely got him hard and then tied up his dick. Then, he put in that fucking sounding rod. He could feel the stretch of the rod inside of him, making his cock feel engorged and like it was being pulled apart. The rod inside him was either bigger than the one from before or his cock was too swollen. It must have been longer as well because there was a pressure against his bladder again that fucking hurt more than before. He could feel rope tied just beneath the head of his cock, meaning—or so he thought—that Wen Ruohan had stuck this fucking thing inside of him and secured it there.

Jiang Cheng had half a mind to bite him and he would have if not for fear of the consequences. He was already being trained so well, wasn’t he?

Jiang Cheng didn’t know how much time passed until Wen Ruohan removed himself from Jiang Cheng’s mouth. All he did know was that as soon as he was out, the gag was immediately put back in. Jiang Cheng would get no reprieve.

He heard pattering against the floor nearby and then Wen Ruohan was on him again. This time something blunt and wide teased at his entrance. It was solid and cold, almost like metal or stone like the gag. Wen Ruohan rubbed it around his hole and just below it before pushing it in. Jiang Cheng groaned as it entered him. It was so big. It was big and unrelenting and it stretched his rim far more than any finger or dick had.

There was an odd, dull pop sound and then the object shoved inside him as though his hole sucked it in. It was fully sheathed inside of him, he realized. There was something still pressing against his hole and around it, meaning the end of the object was wider than the rest of it while the object itself suddenly felt smaller, yet not small. It still stretched more than a cock but not as much as it had before. And it stayed there.

Jiang Cheng sunk into the chair, feeling weighed down by the object and by the sounding rod. Everything was sensitive. Everything was tight and heavy. He clenched at the object. He wanted it out and gone but trying to push it out only resulted in pushing the wider part against his hole and gods did the stretch sting. He whimpered at the feeling before giving up.

He felt a pat against his butt. Then, he heard Wen Ruohan walk away again. And that was it. He was left there bound to the chair with every usable hole filled, unable to actually feel the object inside of him.

Why couldn’t he feel anything?

More importantly, was Wen Ruohan just going to leave him like this?

He could already feel his arms and legs aching from the way he was bound. It would certainly only get worse the longer he remained in the position. He knew his jaw and hole were bound to get sore too. Also, how long had this damn rod been in him? Had it caused permanent damage?

On top of all of this, he didn’t know what day or time it was. How much time had passed?

Questions flooded his mind. He couldn’t see and could barely hear anything. All he felt was strain on his body and the gag in his throat and the ropes and fabric cutting and chafing at his skin.

He was left there with nothing to focus on except for his questions.

This must be his punishment. Wen Ruohan taught him his lesson and now it was going to sink in with whatever this was. He wanted Jiang Cheng to feel helpless and used and he certainly did. His mouth and asshole were full and he could feel nothing but pain or nothingness.

The more pressing issue was the fear that was slowly growing the longer he didn’t hear anything in the room. He was going to be left like this.

What if Wen Ruohan never untied him?

Jiang Cheng shut that thought down. There was no way Wen Ruohan would leave him here for too long. He’d grow too bored. He’d want Jiang Cheng to be able to fight and serve against his will. He was sadistic. He reveled in it.

No. For now Jiang Cheng would just have to wait. And wait he did. Until Wen Ruohan decided to fuck him again.

He had no way of knowing how long it had been before Wen Ruohan approached him again. He heard the soft patters of his feet against the floor and felt his presence standing over him but he couldn’t tell where. A hand touched his leg and Jiang Cheng jumped.

His right leg, which had gone numb from being tied up in one position for too long, jostled from the movement. It brought with it the sensation of pins and needles and a deep searing ache as the limb slowly regained feeling. Jiang Cheng clenched his toes and moved the leg to try to help it along as he groaned behind the gag.

The hand smoothed its way around his thigh, squeezing and petting, enjoying his body. Another hand came up and took hold of his other thigh. Together they squeezed and pressed in hard enough for Jiang Cheng to be sure his skin turned white. They moved down to the creases of his hips and pulled him away from the back of the chair and closer to Wen Ruohan.

Then he felt the plug being toyed with. Wen Ruohan was pulsing it in and out of his hole—an extremely bizarre sensation with how little he could feel of anything except the movement at his rim. The only other feelings were the ache in his dick and balls and urethra and his joints. Wen Ruohan would occasionally pull the plug until his hole was stretching over the widest part once more before pushing it back in.

Jiang Cheng took in a deep breath through his nose and let it out slowly. Wen Ruohan was using his body for entertainment while all Jiang Cheng could feel was discomfort.

There was something fitting in that, he figured, based on everything that had occurred so far.

Finally Wen Ruohan removed the plug with another pop. He felt the plug being shoved into the space between his lower back and the chair as though it were a convenient pocket and not a space caused by Jiang Cheng being bound and used.

Jiang Chen expected to be fucked again. That’s why he was here, right? But instead of fucking him immediately, he felt something slimmer enter him. The plug had stretched him but he could still feel the fingers as they slipped inside, even if those fingers were covered in some sort of rough, thick fabric and cold cream.

The fingers didn’t fuck him. Based on what he could feel, which was, once again, not much, the fingers were simply moving about inside of him. If he had to guess, they were spreading the cream around. It couldn’t be an ointment of some sort, could it? Wen Ruohan hadn’t damaged his rectum.

Once Wen Ruohan deemed the cream fully rubbed in, the fingers pulled out; but they pulled out strangely. The fabric was held over his entire bottom and when the fingers were removed, the part of the fabric which had been inside of him was bunched up into the rest of the fabric before being pulled away. His hole was then wiped down with something cold—water, he figured. Then, the plug was once more inserted.

Jiang Cheng sat there utterly confused.

The gag was removed, his head was pulled forward, and once more a real cock was shoved down his throat. Wen Ruohan used his mouth like it was just a hole or a toy. Wen Ruohan slammed against his mouth and shoved his head up and down his length. Jiang Cheng worked his throat and fought to breathe around the length, memories of his first blowjob returning. But just like before, he found it easier.

He was able to swallow around Wen Ruohan’s cock. He was able to breathe around it although that breathing was shallow and more like panting. His chin grew slick as spit dribbled around the cock.

This time Jiang Cheng managed to stay nearly silent throughout the ordeal. The lack of overactive gag reflex and his ability to breathe meant he wasn’t choking, wasn’t struggling, wasn’t retching or gagging. All Jiang Cheng could hear was slickness and his sharp breaths and the harsh breaths of Wen Ruohan from above.

Wen Ruohan’s thrusts grew erratic. They lost their momentum and became short and hard. He was slapping into Jiang Cheng’s face now with each thrust, smarting against his chin and jaw.

Wen Ruohan slammed his head down one final time and smushed Jiang Cheng’s face into his groin. He came with a quiet groan. Semen filled Jiang Cheng’s mouth once more. With his newly inactive gag reflex, Jiang Cheng found he could swallow more of the liquid as it slithered down his throat. His throat tightened as he swallowed and Wen Ruohan let out another groan.

“Yes,” he moaned. “Swallow it down. Good boy. Accept what your master has provided.”

Jiang Cheng’s stomach twisted at that, decidedly did not enjoying hearing that, but…well, it wasn’t like he could argue with him in his predicament.

He swallowed and sucked and used his tongue to pleasure Wen Ruohan through his orgasm until he began to go soft. Wen Ruohan released his head and Jiang Cheng fell back into the chair, heaving through his mouth. His throat once more felt open and bruised. He felt the saliva beginning to dry. It became itchy and Jiang Cheng yearned to be able to scratch it away or wipe it down.

It was only once the gag was being clipped behind his head again did Jiang Cheng think he finally understood what Wen Ruohan had done to him. The cream was in fact a numbing cream. Wen Ruohan was purposely numbing the entire inside of his ass so that when he was fucked he wouldn’t feel anything. This was coupled with the pain in his genitals and the consistent dick, whether real or jade, in his mouth.

Jiang Cheng tried to swallow around the jade gag and found it was bigger than Wen Ruohan. It took up more space and it was solid, immovable. Any effort to dislodge it merely left it to fall back into place.

He tried to clench at the plug. He could barely push it in and out with how numb his ass was. If he really focused and really tried to adjust the plug, he could feel the slightest movement against his rim, but that was it.

Jiang Cheng let out a long sigh. He settled into the chair again. He probably wouldn’t be fucked again until Wen Ruohan believed the cream had fully taken affect and sunk in. He wouldn’t take the chance to ruin his pleasure. Only Jiang Cheng’s.

Did you think I would simply allow you to pleasure yourself? Did you think you earned permission? You think you deserve to even touch yourself let alone finish?

This is what Wen Ruohan had said to him.

So desperate. So selfish. You continue to take and take and take.

Jiang Cheng squeezed his eyes tighter.

Is the only person you care about yourself?

The shame burned in his chest and heated his cheeks and ears. This is what Wen Ruohan wanted to teach him. The sounding rod wasn’t a lesson. That was all punishment. This was his true lesson.

Jiang Cheng was selfish here. It didn’t matter what he believed or what he did since being captured or how he tried to help. He was the reason they were being held here. He was the reason he’d been tortured because he dared to do something for himself, without permission and without thinking of Lan Xichen or Lan Wangji.

Now, Wen Ruohan was showing him exactly how to not be selfish. He was showing him what he truly existed here for. Jiang Cheng thought he knew. He thought he’d made his peace with it. But he hadn’t.

The numbing cream was all it took for him to realize his place.

I know you’re sorry. I know you will be good, because I will ensure it.

Wen Ruohan kept his promise. Jiang Cheng will be good because Wen Ruohan would ensure of it. He would ensure Jiang Cheng never again attempted to be selfish and only take and take and take. What had he been thinking, believing he had any control? How could he have thought he had any right to even attempt to control what was done to them? It was truly unfair to Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen. It was selfish. It was foolish.

He would be better. He’d become better. He’d learn his lesson well and not repeat his mistakes…if for anything other than he didn’t think he’d be able to handle this sort of punishment again.

These thoughts swirled around in his head in endless circles. Then, the plug was removed once more.

So the shì passed like this, with Jiang Cheng caught between the darkness of the blindfold, his own thoughts, and the sex.

___________________

They were ushered into the room with less than a word spoken. Lan Xichen barely had time to remove the blindfold before the door was being slammed in their faces and secured with physical locks and most likely talismans. Lan Xichen couldn’t feel them but he was positive they were there. No cultivation sect worth their salt would secure prisoners without the assistance of talismans or sigils.

This still didn’t stop Lan Xichen from trying the door.

It fruitless, he already knew, but he couldn’t help it. If there was a chance to help Jiang Wanyin he would take it. Unfortunately the locks held. After a few useless attempts he gave up, slumping against the door with a sigh and closing his eyes.

All he could see was Jiang Wanyin’s terrified expression as Wen Ruohan stared down at him on the bed. The man was furious. They’d already heard and personally seen what the Wen sect did to people who enraged Wen Ruohan. There was no telling what the man would do.

Jiang Wanyin was only seventeen. He was younger even than Wangji. None of his past experiences prepared him for the pleasurable experience Lan Xichen tried to provide him with. Hadn’t he performed admirably? Wen Ruohan made exceptions seemingly whenever he wanted. So why not make one in this instance?

He swallowed thickly. He didn’t want to think this was his fault. He’d made Jiang Wanyin feel good, certainly, but that’s what a good partner did. He’d assisted them throughout their entire captivity so far. It was the least Lan Xichen could do.

He wanted to laugh at what a hypocrite he was being. To think he was the one who gave the speech requesting they all work together and not hold anything against the other. It was the first night and he was already keeping score.

He heard movement behind him and remembered Wangji was with him. Lan Xichen turned to see Wangji clenching the fabric of the blindfold tight in his hands. He was ashen. His golden eyes and normally raised chin were downcast. To a person who didn’t know him, they probably wouldn’t see it, but Lan Xichen could. His brother was shaking.

Lan Xichen took in a deep, calming breath. There was nothing he could do for Jiang Wanyin at this point. It was best to focus on Wangji.

“How are you feeling? Did he hurt you?” Lan Xichen asked quietly.

There was a space between them he didn’t quite know how to breach. Since Wangji was born Lan Xichen had never once hesitated in caring for his younger brother. There was never a distance he could not cross to meet Wangji where he was. Even when their mother died he knew how to approach him. Now, the space held them an ocean apart, uncrossable, unrelenting in its cruel berth, and icy cold.

“What happened?” Wangji asked instead of answering his question.

His voice was thick and his words were stilted. Wen Ruohan shouldn’t have been able to hurt him too much, based on what Lan Xichen saw, but he knew Wangji. This night must have been extremely difficult for him. It was difficult for Lan Xichen as well.

“I’m not sure,” Lan Xichen responded. “One moment Jiang Wanyin and I were…and then he was on the floor with Wen Ruohan above him. My understanding is that he began to touch himself.”

“…mn.”

Lan Xichen saw Wangji’s chest rise and fall in quick succession. He was uncomfortable. He was nervous.

“Wangji, what is it?”

Lan Xichen wanted to go to his brother. His body ached with yearning to comfort him. It wouldn’t be appreciated. Not now.

“Jiang Wanyin begged Wen Ruohan to kill him…”

The statement hung in the air, drifting across space neither of them knew how to navigate.

Lan Xichen couldn’t deny how Jiang Wanyin’s begging rang in his ears. It was not something he would so soon forget. He’d never heard him so devastated and scared. It made his heart and stomach ache. How could he have just left him there? How could he have not fought for him? He was so afraid of his punishment, so desperate to escape his reality that he…

Jiang Wanyin had begged Wen Ruohan to kill him.

It was a sentiment that still sent shivers down his spine. He had never met anyone who so openly wanted to die. Nie Mingjue knew he would die young eventually. It was an unfortunate side-effect of the cultivation methods the Nie sect practiced. He knew he would die but he never asked for it, never begged so openly for it nor said it out loud.

The desperation, at least, Lan Xichen could understand. He felt hopeless as he watched his home burn. He felt useless in hiding. He knew he’d return to chaos and destruction and the maiming of the sect he grew up in. But never once did he think “I want to die” from it.

Perhaps, if he lost more than his father. If he lost their uncle, and their elders, and saw as their fellow sect members were murdered and he lost his core and Wangji got him a new one before disappearing…maybe then he would want to die.

“…Do you agree with Wen Ruohan?” Lan Xichen found himself asking.

The question once more drifted listlessly in the space of the empty room between them. Lan Xichen knew his own answer, which was a resolute “no”. He knew his brother might feel differently.

“No…” Wangji responded eventually. “Before, perhaps, I did.”

“But you saw the depth of his guilt.”

Wangji clenched the blindfold tight enough for his knuckles to turn white and for his arms to visibly shake from the strain.

“He was correct. He’s treated me since I was whipped and tonight…” Wangji avoided looking at him but Lan Xichen could still see his expression twist into something akin to disgust. “…He allowed himself to be assaulted to protect us.”

That’s what it was, wasn’t it?

Lan Xichen remembered watching Jiang Wanyin. The way he sunk to his knees and crawled across the floor. The way he was beaten and took it willingly. The way he forced himself to pleasure Wen Ruohan. How he tried to convince Wangji to not clean him up because of the mess Wen Ruohan had made. How he chose first and received the punishment for doing so, just to ensure he and Wangji didn’t do more to each other than necessary.

It all made Lan Xichen’s stomach twist and caused acid to course through his veins. It made him want to kill Wen Ruohan for forcing this seventeen-year-old boy to relive the worst day of his life. The rage was unlike anything he’d experienced before. So, when he was given the chance, he tried to make it good, make Jiang Wanyin feel at least something somewhat pleasurable. He was hoping to be able to help the young man lick his wounds.

Lan Xichen startled when Wangji continued, “what happened is in the past, and it is not worth death, especially after tonight.”

“Wen Ruohan will not kill him. That at least is something we will not have to worry about,” Lan Xichen agreed.

“Mn.”

Once more silence fell. Lan Xichen chanced a step closer, those icy waves of the ocean between them licking at his ankles and rushing up his legs. Wangji did not move. Lan Xichen took another step. Then another. He stopped only a few paces away from him. He was chest high, nearly drowning.

He lifted a hand to let it hover in front of him, so desperately wanting to comfort Wangji.

“Please…are you alright?”

Lan Xichen could usually handle Wangji’s general nonverbal responses and conversations. Right now he really needed something verbal. He needed something to tell him everything was going to be okay. Somewhere in the palace Jiang Wanyin was being tortured and Wangji was being distant after being violated and tortured himself and Lan Xichen couldn’t fix any of it.

“Yes, I am fine,” he responded slowly.

He was not fine. Neither of them were. Still, that was enough. Lan Xichen crossed the gap and hugged Wangji. His brother froze in his arms, surprised by the display of affection, before returning it with a hug of his own. They held each other quietly like for a long while until Wangji stopped shaking.

After some time, Wangji pulled away. “I am tired. Can we sleep?”

“Of course,” Lan Xichen agreed immediately.

The stress of it all had weighed heavily on his shoulders. He knew the perfect posture which had been ingrained in them didn’t waiver but it felt like it did. He can’t remember the last time he’s slept in a bed and in that moment, beneath the heaviness of it all, the mere mention of sleep reminded him how thoroughly exhausted he was.

Despite asking to sleep, Wangji remained standing near the bed looking at his robes. Right. They were wearing practically transparent outer robes. Lan Xichen glanced around their small room and settled his gaze on the wardrobe.

“I know you want to sleep, but perhaps we should get cleaned up and changed? I’ll see if there’s anything we can wear to sleep in. Clean yourself first.”

It was a gentle nudge. He hoped he took it. Both of them could use some time to themselves. Besides, it was Wangji who’d done the more vile things tonight. Lan Xichen truly couldn’t believe what he’d-they’d-been forced to do that night. He wanted to scrub his skin raw. He imagined Wangji might feel the same.

Thankfully, Wangji headed into the other room without argument. Wangji was always quiet but this was still too much. Still…Lan Xichen couldn’t deny his shoulders didn’t feel lighter the moment his brother was out of sight.

He hung his head and breathed out slowly, letting it all wash over him. He knew Jiang Wanyin was correct earlier. They were all going to have to do things and experience things and learn things they didn’t want. He was going to have to interact with his own brother in ways he never could have imagined. In theory he knew this.

Reality was always different than expectations.

The pressure was unimaginable. One wrong move could have had Jiang Wanyin dead at any point this night. He and Wangji couldn’t fight against it. And Jiang Wanyin…how fearlessly he took control. How admirably he acted, trying to protect the two of them, and keep Wen Ruohan’s attention away from them. He was the youngest of the three of them yet he acted beyond his years tonight and suffered more than Lan Xichen ever could have expected him to for them.

The knowledge was a burden.

He shouldn’t be keeping score. It’s a dangerous thing to do. It was foolish. And yet…

He sighed and began to dig through the wardrobe hoping to find at least pants. The air between his legs was something he could no longer ignore. He felt exposed. He just wanted to be covered. Thankfully it seemed Wen Ruohan didn’t care what they wore outside of his presence because he found underclothes: simple shirts and pants. Of course, much like everything else in the palace, they were of exceedingly high quality.

He grabbed a pair for Wangji and gave them to him before waiting for his turn to clean up.

By the time they crawled into bed, both of them were clean and refreshed and most importantly, concealed. Lan Xichen hoped once he was in a comfortable bed he’d be able to fall asleep immediately. It was hard to ignore his Lan training. Yet sleep evaded him. The sounds of Wangji’s uneven breaths told him his brother was fairing much the same.

“Are you still awake?”

“…Yes.”

“I know we don’t want to talk about tonight…but that kiss with Jiang Wanyin…it was your first, wasn’t it? You seemed to enjoy it.”

A little light teasing and Lan Xichen felt himself relaxing a bit more. He wasn’t lying either. Wangji seemed to enjoy himself immensely. At least one of them had a relatively good time tonight, all things considering.

Of course, Lan Xichen was reminded of the reality of the situation again when Wangji responded:

“Xiongzhang, you were my first kiss…”

Lan Xichen blinked up at the darkened ceiling. That’s right. Technically he was. One more major firsts was stolen by the power of a cruel, sadistic chief cultivator. Hot fury surged through him again. He clenched at the sheets.

“No,” he bit out, more harshly than necessary, if he thought about it, “that didn’t count. That was forced and it was hardly even a kiss. Jiang Wanyin was your first kiss.”

“I still did not want it.”

“I know,” Lan Xichen sighed. “You wanted your first kiss to be Young Master Wei, didn’t you?”

Wangji didn’t respond but he didn’t need to. Lan Xichen learned how to read his brother as soon as he was born. He knew his feelings for Wei Wuxian. Still…

“As far as kisses go, it seemed Jiang Wanyin was a good kisser. You seemed to manage some joy in it at the very least.”

“Was he good for you, too?”

Lan Xichen blinked again. He hadn’t expected this to be turned on him. Was he good for him? Lan Xichen hadn’t even considered whether their coitus was “good” or not by normal standards. He was more focused on Wen Ruohan and keeping everything moving smoothly without major injury or incident. If he thought about it, however, he supposed he knew the answer.

“It was the best I’ve felt since coming here…and Jiang Wanyin was quite…accommodating.”

“Enthusiastic.”

“A good partner.”

A moment of silence passed between them. Lan Xichen thought about it some more. Jiang Wanyin was receptive and responded well. It was amusing to see him discover such pleasure. He’d just wanted him to feel good. Jiang Wanyin deserved something after everything he’s gone through these last few weeks, if not months. He wished they could’ve finished.

In the dark silence of their gilded prison cell, Wangji, oh so softly, admitted to himself and Lan Xichen, “I did enjoy it.”

“I did too,” Lan Xichen admitted quietly as well.

The two of them lied there along with their admittance, not knowing what to do with it, or with each other. The ocean, at least, had receded, somewhat, and Lan Xichen felt as though he could finally keep himself from drowning.

They were left alone for four days. It wasn’t unexpected, considering the events from four days prior, as Wen Ruohan had a toy to play with and torture to his heart’s desire. It still made Lan Xichen antsy.

Jiang Wanyin was alone with that monster for four days straight after breaking seemingly one of the most important rules the man had for them, despite not communicating said rule until it was already being broken. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t meant to be fair. He truly seemed to have expected Jiang Wanyin to have learned this rule from his assault when he was held captive in Lotus Pier.

Still, no matter how long it had been and how concerned Lan Xichen grew, he had one single solace that helped give him some peace: Jiang Wanyin had a core.

This would not be a revelation in any other circumstance but it was in this one. Jiang Wanyin had a core when he should not and so Wen Ruohan will not kill him. He might, however, continue to make Jiang Wanyin wish he was dead. What if he broke him? What if the damage he causes is irreversible and Jiang Wanyin as the cultivation world knew him…is gone?

Lan Xichen was never one to fidget from nerves, but this made him want to rip his hair out. He was beginning to go stir-crazy. Though, that might also be due to the constant boredom.

Normally he was good with boredom. He was always capable of finding things to do to entertain himself. If he couldn’t, he simply trained or cultivated or meditated.

Here, however? Now?

He was, if he were to be entirely honest with himself, starting to lose it.

He was ready to snap at Wangji again when he heard movement from his brother which told him he needed to take a moment and calm down. He hadn’t spent so much time with someone. Ever. Not even as a child. He was mostly left to his own devices and his privacy.

Now, he had been in the presence of someone constantly for the last month and it was fraying his nerves. He knew Wangji was feeling the same way. The two of them had attempted to give each other a wide berth but that buffer was growing smaller and smaller each day.

One of them was going to break. He could feel it. The tension was thick between them. Even just hearing his brother breathe was enough to irk Lan Xichen. He needed to get out of there even for just a moment.

Thankfully, just as he opened his mouth, ready to unleash hell upon Wangji for daring to exist in the same room as him, a single knock sounded at the door. All at once the irritation drained from the room to be replaced with trepidation.

There was no telling what would come with that knock.

Neither of them moved and a voice sounded through the door. “Lan Xichen is to be prepared to be in Chief Cultivator Wen’s presence in a ké.”

Lan Xichen looked to Wangji, who looked back to him with clear fear. He wouldn’t deny how his heartbeat ratcheted up. Still neither of them moved and the door opened. Two guards and one of the servants from their first night entered the room and stood in front of the door.

The servant was a young woman appearing no older than her teens. She was small and dainty and her face was plain despite the makeup and fine robes. Perhaps not a normal servant, then. Wen Ruohan had many wives. She could be a lady’s maid.

Lan Xichen stood. “May I not prepare in peace?”

“It is Master’s wish that this one assists Lan Xichen in his preparation to ensure it is satisfactory.”

Lan Xichen sucked in his cheek. There would be no point in taking his anger out on the young woman in front of him. She was only following orders.

Lan Xichen bowed. “Please take care of me.”

The young woman looked up at him and her cheeks grew dusty. Perhaps in a different situation, he might find himself charmed and amused by her youthful innocence. He knew he was attractive. This detail was not foreign to him. He was ranked number one of the eligible bachelors in their generation, after all.

With her face still aflame, she cleared her throat and gestured to the bathing room. “This way, please.”

She helped Lan Xichen bathe properly and adorn his skin with the proper scents and oils. She did his hair for him and helped him dress in the proper robes.

It was not an entirely uncomfortable affair, though it was embarrassing. His own cheeks were rosy at knowing this young woman was being forced to see his body as bare as the day he was born. He wanted to hide his modesty from her and her roaming hands.

Meanwhile she was entirely clinical with the ordeal. She was more sheepish at his kindness and respect than his naked body. She even giggled and shook her head when he accidentally stepped on her foot and apologized with a bowed head.

Though he was thoroughly charmed, the knowledge made something in him irrevocably sad. Just what kind of household was Wen Ruohan running that lady’s maids and female servants were used to seeing and touching bare men? What did it mean that basic human respect was foreign to her? What had this young woman experienced at the hands of her masters?

It soured his mood.

Said mood was worsened by Wangji’s gaze upon him when he left the bathing room. He took a single look at him then turned away, unable to handle seeing his older brother prepared like a woman on the night of her wedding. Then, he was whisked away to Wen Ruohan.

The walk to his room felt short this time. He thought that might have been because he was alone. He was isolated in his anxiety and nerves. There was no one to hold his hand or to look to in order to commiserate.

Once more the guard knocked on the door. He announced their presence. Then, the door was opened and he was led inside.

A few steps in, the door was closed and the blindfold removed. Remembering what he experienced four days ago, Lan Xichen moved to the middle of the room and knelt with his head down and hands clearly in his lap where he’d been stood on that first night.

“Leave.”

Lan Xichen heard the guards leave. He was now here, alone, with Wen Ruohan and possibly Jiang Wanyin. He didn’t want to make anything worse or cause any problems though so he did not raise his head to look around. He would not do anything without permission.

He didn’t know how long he knelt there. The floor was cool to the touch and hard against his knees and shins. His legs quickly grew numb and his neck began to ache at the prolonged position. His Lan training taught him to outlast far worse discomforts for much longer periods of time. He could take this. He would not move.

He heard Wen Ruohan moving about. He heard breathing. But he could not tell where in the room the man was or what he was doing.

“Raise your head, Huan-Er.”

Lan Xichen did as he was told and raised his head. He almost closed his eyes and thanked Wen Ruohan for the instant relief. He would have, if not for the sight that immediately met his eyes and made his blood run cold.

In front of him, in the same chair Wen Ruohan sat on the first night, was Jiang Wanyin. He was tightly bound, nearly folded in half, to the chair by his legs and arms. He was blindfolded and gagged. Most terrifyingly, he was covered in bruises. The entire expanse of his thighs and bottom were a dark array of blacks, blues, and purples. His chest and shoulders were covered in overlapping, deep bitemarks that left teeth indentations. His ankles and knees were raw and bleeding with clear hand prints from where he was held in a tight grip. A ring around his neck told stories of how often he’d been choked.

What Lan Xichen couldn’t bring himself to look away from, however, was Jiang Wanyin’s member.

It was dark red, nearly a fuchsia color. It was bound at the base of his groin, the base of his balls, and at the head. And there, sticking out of the swollen and engorged head, was a thick metal rod.

Jiang Wanyin wasn’t moving. Lan Xichen couldn’t even tell if he was breathing.

“Don’t mind him,” Wen Ruohan said. He patted Jiang Wanyin’s right knee. Jiang Wanyin did not move. “For now, you can ignore him.”

Lan Xichen didn’t think he could. How was he expected to simply ignore the state Jiang Wanyin was in? What had he done to him? How long had he been bound like this?

He swallowed. He was sure of it now. No matter what happened, he needed to obey. He needed to not consider himself. He needed to ensure he made Wen Ruohan happy no matter what, to avoid anything worse happening to either Jiang Wanyin or himself.

“Does this scare you? You can be honest.”

“Yes, Master…this scares me.”

“I can assure you, he is quite alright.”

Lan Xichen didn’t quite believe that but he wasn’t going to argue with it. How could he?

“Rise to your feet and come here.”

Lan Xichen did as he was told. He gracefully rose to his feet, smoothing out his robes as he went, and walked over to where Wen Ruohan stood over Jiang Wanyin.

Once he was by their side, Wen Ruohan positioned him directly in front of Jiang Wanyin between his legs. Lan Xichen shied away from it. He didn’t want to look. It was so much worse up close.

Here, he could see Jiang Wanyin’s shallow labored breathing. He could see how his chest rose and fell in short bursts as though it was difficult. He could see how his breaths stuttered occasionally. He could hear the soft whines and swallows behind the gag. He was in pain. He was in a lot of pain. How could Wen Ruohan do this to someone just because they touched themselves without permission?

Lan Xichen couldn’t look away. He was so disgustingly entranced that he didn’t even notice Wen Ruohan come up behind him until the man was breathing in his ear. Lan Xichen jumped when he began to whisper.

“Do you remember what I said that night?”

Lan Xichen wracked his brain trying to remember what Wen Ruohan could possibly be referring to. So much was said and done in such a short amount of time. There was no telling what he might be talking about.

“I wanted to give you a reward for being so patient and well-behaved. I know this must be difficult for you.”

Lan Xichen froze, wide-eyed. No…he couldn’t be talking about…How could he expect him to want to—to be okay with…He shook his head in short delegations. He can’t do this.

“Shh, I told you to be selfish at that time. You will learn I am a man who keeps his promises.”

Lan Xichen turned to look up at the man who owned him. “M-Master,” he pleaded, voice shaking. “…please don’t make me do this. It’s too much.”

“Look at him.” Wen Ruohan reached around Lan Xichen and grabbed hold of the plug in his hole. Lan Xichen closed his eyes and tried to look away. He simply couldn’t look. He didn’t want to see what mess Wen Ruohan had made of him. “Look,” Wen Ruohan growled.

He couldn’t push. Jiang Wanyin’s state was already so dire, there was no way Lan Xichen could fight. Even though it made his stomach churn with horror and shame and embarrassment on Jiang Wanyin’s behalf, he looked.

Wen Ruohan gripped the plug and began slowly toying it. He twisted it inside Jiang Wanyin. He pulled it out and allowed it sink back in over and over again. What shocked him more than anything was how Jiang Wanyin met every thrust despite how painful the movement must have been. Even so, Jiang Wanyin’s hole stretched around it but it didn’t look tight or painful. It seemed as though Wen Ruohan had thoroughly prepared and played with Jiang Wanyin before this.

“Look at how he greedily sucks it back in. Look at how his hole is desperate for it. Look at how desperate he is to prove himself capable of being a good toy for you.”

Lan Xichen swallowed again. He hated this. It was disgusting. It was horrific. It was being done against Jiang Wanyin’s will. It was turning him, a young master and sect leader in his own right, into nothing but a toy.

Most shameful of all, Lan Xichen was liking it.

He couldn’t deny how enticing it looked. His fantasies had never gone beyond simply having sex and yet, after meeting A-Yao, they’d changed drastically. A-Yao was so much smaller than him. Lan Xichen was able to take both of his wrists and secure them with one hand. He was able to completely cover his body with his own and hold him down. He was able to make A-Yao take it.

Jiang Wanyin was a strong young man with tall and thin yet sinewy stature. He radiated prestige and ego and composure. He held himself to high standards. He wore his hair in a severe bun. Yet, he allowed ribbons to caress down his back. His waist was so small he had seen Wei Wuxian fully encompass it with only his hands multiple times. He was desperate to please and to prove himself.

Now, here he was. He was tied down with hardly any movement allowed. He would be forced to take whatever Lan Xichen gave him. His hole was so greedy his hips met each thrust of the plug. His dick was still twitching as though it was deriving pleasure simply from his hole being toyed with despite its mistreatment.

Lan Xichen let out a shaky breath.

This was wrong. Jiang Wanyin didn’t want this. He didn’t even know if Jiang Wanyin knew he was there. He couldn’t get Jiang Wanyin’s permission like this. But somehow, that made him want to take even more. Just what was wrong with him? Is this what Jiang Wanyin meant when he said those things? That Lan Xichen would learn things about himself he’d rather not know?

Was Lan Xichen just like his father?

The thought was so sudden and harsh and so much that it made a shudder run through his entire body.

He pretended at not knowing the situation regarding his parents. He never looked further into it because he didn’t want to truly know. If he didn’t investigate, he would never have his suspicions confirmed. He would never know if his mother and father had ever reached an agreement. He’d never need to know what kind of relationship they had. He pretended at not having suspicions. If he didn’t know the truth then there was never a need to face the reality.

Here, and now, he was facing said reality, except it was occurring within himself.

Of course, it didn’t help that Wen Ruohan was standing behind him, pushed up against his back and whispering encouragements in his ear.

“Let me help you, Huan-Er.” Lan Xichen shuddered again. Wen Ruohan’s hand moved from where they’d settled around his waist to his stomach, inching lower. “I can see how much this is exciting you. You’re fighting so hard against it. Indulge yourself. Your master is telling you to be selfish.”

It was almost as though he were asking for permission. The hands settled just above his groin, outlining his dick which had begun to grow in interest.

“Huan-Er, do you want me to help you?”

Wen Ruohan knew what he was thinking. If he took control instead of Lan Xichen, then it technically wasn’t Lan Xichen doing this. It wasn’t Lan Xichen getting excited by this. If Wen Ruohan took control it was him forcing him. He was giving him an out. He was teaching Lan Xichen it was better for him to allow Wen Ruohan to control him and the situations he put them in.

Let him have control.

Jiang Wanyin had suggested that to them.

Lan Xichen would do it. Jiang Wanyin and Wen Ruohan were right. It was better.

“Please help me, Master.”

He felt Wen Ruohan’s smirk against his shoulder. “It is your Master’s pleasure when you ask so nicely.”

All at once the thin robe he’d been dressed in was ripped away and hands were on him immediately. One hand stroked him tight and firm, setting a delicious pace that had Lan Xichen wanting to buck into his hand. The other fondled his balls. Wen Ruohan’s adept fingers rolled and pressed and caressed with such blindingly satisfying pleasure. Lan Xichen couldn’t help the moan he let out as he let his head drop back against Wen Ruohan and his eyes close.

“Yes,” Wen Ruohan breathed out behind him. It sounded like he was getting excited by this. “Take the pleasure your Master gives. Feel it. Revel in it. What do you say, Huan-Er?”

“T-thank you, Master,” he gasped out.

Wen Ruohan squeezed just a little tighter on an upstroke before pressing along the head and Lan Xichen gasped again. The other hand moved from his balls to his chest, caressing his pectorals and abs, appreciating the body that now belonged to him.

“Do you want to fuck him? Do you want to take your pleasure from his loose, pliant body? He’s ready to be so good for you.”

Lan Xichen fell forward with a whine, twitching and shuddering with each breath. He squeezed his eyes shut and gripped at the handles of the chair. Fuck, he almost came from that and it would have been without permission.

He bent lower as Wen Ruohan moved faster and faster. Hs entire body was shaking. It felt as though his legs were going to give out. He could feel the pleasure growing within him. It was getting larger and brighter and stronger. Was he going to let him come? It took hours for his hard-on to go down that night. He’d been on edge ever since, wanting to come but knowing he wasn’t allowed to pleasure himself.

He opened his eyes to see a bleary Jiang Wanyin beneath him. Lan Xichen was practically bent over him. His mouth was inches from his abused cock and plugged hole. Jiang Wanyin’s chest rose and fell in quick succession, as though he were just as excited as Lan Xichen. He could see his hole squeeze at the plug like it was begging to be fucked.

Oh…gods.

“Master, please,” he cried.

“Please, what? What do you want, Huan-Er? What do you want from your Master?”

What did he want? What did Wen Ruohan want him to ask for? He couldn’t think past the pleasure. He wanted to come!

He gripped the handles of the chair so tight he thought the arms might crack. He shut his eyes again. No. He was losing it. A little touching and he was losing his mind? He tried to calm his breathing, gain back some control. He lowered his head more to avoid breathing over Jiang Wanyin. He was bent in half now and he knew what it looked like but he needed to calm down.

He knew what Wen Ruohan wanted him to ask for. He knew what he could ask for in this moment. Why was this so hard? He didn’t want to rape Jiang Wanyin but he had a feeling that would be the only way he’d be allowed to come.

He cleared his throat. He knew what Wen Ruohan wanted from him. He would make the bastard say it. In a stronger and clearer voice than he honestly thought himself capable of in that moment, he said, “Master, you won’t let me finish unless I rape Jiang Wanyin, will you?”

The sex in the air did little to dispel the immediate tense silence that fell in the room.

Lan Xichen wasn’t stupid. He knew what Wen Ruohan was doing. He’d lost himself a bit in the pleasure but he wasn’t an animal. He wouldn’t lose control of himself so easily. If Wen Ruohan wanted that, he was going to have to work harder.

How long would Wen Ruohan have to stave off his orgasms to make him desperate enough to rape Jiang Wanyin?

That was the question he was posing.

He heard laughing behind him. It was deep and rumbling, almost like thunder, tinged with something lighter in it.

“How about this, then? If I gave you the choice of him or you, you would pick yourself every time, right?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Then I have a fun proposition for you. Fuck Jiang Wanyin, or I let my soldiers have fun with Lan Wangji…and we both know what happened to Jiang Wanyin the last time my soldiers let loose, don’t we?”

Lan Xichen froze. His blood ran cold. Images of what the soldiers would do to his brother flashed through his mind courtesy of Jiang Wanyin being forced to relive his torture for them. Wangji would barely make it out alive.

And…was he threatening to take Wangji’s core, too?

Despite the circumstance and what he felt about Jiang Wanyin, he knew his answer. Wangji was family. He was his little brother. His parents asked him to look out for him when he was born. His uncle reminded him constantly about the good example he was meant to be for him. There was no choice here.

Lan Xichen would choose Lan Wangji every time.

He grit his teeth as rage surged through him again. How dare Wen Ruohan force him to make such a choice. How dare the man put them into this situation in the first place.

He looked to Jiang Wanyin. He hadn’t budged since Wen Ruohan first told him to rape him. It was as though he was listening intently to the conversation. That’s right. He could hear them. They’d been speaking this entire time as though Jiang Wanyin weren’t present and yet he was here in front of him. He’d been in front of him the entire time.

Jiang Wanyin probably knew what his answer would be, too. Wen Ruohan was forcing him to listen to Lan Xichen choose his brother over Jiang Wanyin’s autonomy, his safety. He was forcing Lan Xichen to admit no matter what the threat was to Jiang Wanyin, he would choose the safety of his brother every single time.

Lan Xichen felt, for the first time since they arrived here, that bit of hopelessness Jiang Wanyin must have felt. Rageful tears swelled. There was nothing he could do.

Wen Ruohan was not a patient man. He was going to make him make a decision soon. He was going to have to act whether he wanted or not.

He let out a shaky breath and leaned into Jiang Wanyin’s space to whisper in his ear. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to do this. You must understand…I…”

Jiang Wanyin did nothing. For a moment that hopelessness welled a deep and bottomless hole in his chest and stomach. Of course he didn’t want this. Of course he would say no. How could Lan Xichen expect him to—

He nodded. It was small but he nodded. He understood. To show this, he sunk deeper into the chair and let out a long, slow breath, growing slack. He was opening himself up to him.

Lan Xichen could have collapsed from the relief flooding through him. He rested his head on the back of the chair just above Jiang Wanyin’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Jiang Wanyin. I will make this up to you, I swear it.”

Jiang Wanyin merely shook his head.

“What is your decision?” Wen Ruohan asked.

Lan Xichen stood up straight. Still facing Jiang Wanyin he said, “spare Wangji. I will use Jiang Wanyin as Master wishes.”

“Put on a good show, boys.”

Wen Ruohan’s presence then left his side. Lan Xichen heard him patter off to somewhere else in the room, no doubt to watch them in comfort.

Lan Xichen stared down at Jiang Wanyin. He was no doubt in immense pain from the way his member was bound. He would not do this if Jiang Wanyin were in agony the entire time. He knew this punishment was about pleasure but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t use someone without at least allowing them to enjoy themselves.

“Master, may I make a request?”

“That depends on the request.”

“Master said I can be selfish. Part of my satisfaction in having sex is being the reason the other party feels good. This would be for my own selfishness. I want Jiang Wanyin to be able to finish. I want to be the reason he reaches orgasm.”

Jiang Wanyin shook his head again, desperate muffled noises rising behind the gag, but Lan Xichen shushed him. He would not fuck him while his member was bound in such a cruel way. He wouldn’t. Raping him was enough.

“Do you think me a fool, Lan Xichen?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Then why would you make such a request? Take him as he is, or Lan Wangji will be thrown to my soldiers regardless, and you will be forced to watch.”

Lan Xichen grit his teeth again to avoid saying something that would get all three of them hurt. Fine. He would do what Wen Ruohan wanted.

He leaned in again so only Jiang Wanyin could hear him. “I’m sorry. I really don’t want to take you in this way.” Louder, speaking now to Wen Ruohan once more, he asked, “May I at least remove the gag?”

“Only if you intend to use his mouth. You are reaching the limits of my generosity, Lan Xichen.”

Lan Xichen let out a breath. “I apologize. I did not intend to push Master. This one was merely curious. I will begin now.”

Lan Xichen took a moment to collect himself. He needed to forget about Wen Ruohan for the time being. Here, now, it was only him and Jiang Wanyin. It was just them.

He ran his hands along Jiang Wanyin’s shoulders and biceps. They were tensed and strained and sticky with long dried sweat, most likely from being tied in one position for too long. His thighs were tense and shaking as well as Lan Xichen placed his hands on his inner thighs. That was probably from the strain but also the deep-set ache of the bruising.

He wanted Jiang Wanyin relaxed and he needed to get himself back into a state where he might be able to get it up once more. He eyed the bite mark Wangji had left. The indentations faded, leaving a yellow-green bruise with thin lines of blue. That’s right. Jiang Wanyin enjoyed the pain of it.

Lan Xichen leaned in and began pressing kisses along Jiang Wanyin’s neck shoulders. Occasionally he’d nip and suck before going in for a real bite. Then, he’d back off and return to kissing.

He rubbed and pressed at Jiang Wanyin’s tortured joints and muscles. He doubted he could release him but he could still soothe the aches and pains. His body had certainly grown far past numb into a fiery hellscape of burning and Lan Xichen at least knew how to help that. As he moved, he began to touch himself.

It was easier for him to get into the correct headspace when he was pleasuring or focused on someone else. The soft hitches he heard behind the gag and the way Jiang Wanyin grew slack encouraged him to go further.

He didn’t want to excite Jiang Wanyin. He didn’t want to imagine how painful getting hard in his state would be. He was working him open and pliant just as he’d prepared his hole that night.

Soon, he began to work the plug in and out. He began thrusting to the same speed as his stroking. The squelching and the way his hole swallowed the plug mixed with everything else finally made it so he could get hard.

A few more strokes and thrusts, and Lan Xichen was pulling out the plug and lining up with his entrance. The plug had done its job. Jiang Wanyin’s hole was loose and open for him and it was easy to begin pressing the tip in. He moved slowly to allow Jiang Wanyin to mentally prepare for this and adjust. But oh, was it hard.

He bit his lip to avoid groaning out in pleasure. Jiang Wanyin wasn’t as tight as he was four days ago but inside was still warm. He still squeezed him and swallowed him in so good. He wanted to go faster. He wanted to slam in. It would be so easy. But no. He wanted this to be something easy for Jiang Wanyin to handle.

When he was finally fully sheathed, he paused there, simply breathing. He bent over Jiang Wanyin’s beautifully accommodating body. He’d never wanted to kiss someone so badly in his life. He wanted to do it in thankfulness, in a show of appreciation. Instead, he pressed a kiss to Jiang Wanyin’s cheek.

“You feel so good,” he whispered. “You are truly amazing, Jiang Wanyin. Thank you for accepting this. I hope I do not make your suffering worse. I’m going to start moving now. Are you ready?”

Jiang Wanyin nodded.

Lan Xichen pressed another kiss to his cheek as he secured his grip on Jiang Wanyin’s upper thighs. He began to pull out. The drag was just as good as he remembered and wouldn’t you know it, Jiang Wanyin clenched a little to make it good for him. Damn, he was so good.

“Here we go.”

He didn’t slam in but it was a near thing. The chair creaked and Jiang Wanyin shoved up the chair from the impact. He still tightened and clenched on Lan Xichen’s member making the pleasant pressure that much better. He built a fast rhythm. Jiang Wanyin met him on each thrust.

It was as though both of them had been waiting for this. Jiang Wanyin had been waiting for this.

The thought was a lot. Even in their situation, Lan Xichen had fucked him so well and made him feel so good that Jiang Wanyin wanted to have sex with him again. It made his gut clench and he let out a sound he’d never heard himself make before.

He moved faster, slamming his hips in. His thrusting grew erratic. He’d never reached the edge so quickly. His gut continued to clench and he found himself bent over Jiang Wanyin once more. His thrusts grew harder and deeper and he began to screw into his heat, savoring the sensations.

“You’re so good. I wish I could kiss you. I wish I could make you come. I want to see you finish on my cock, Wanyin. I bet you’d look so good lost in pleasure.”

He remembered that sudden pressure when Jiang Wanyin started pleasuring himself that night and he moaned, loud and unembarrassed. That was enough. He jack rabbited in, getting himself to reach that crest before slamming in hard once, twice, and coming.

He curled in on himself, resting his head somewhere on Jiang Wanyin’s chest as he grinded into Jiang Wanyin, pleasuring himself through his orgasm. He panted, riding out the waves until he stopped shaking. Though, as he expected, he did not go down. He was still just as hard.

Thankfully, the need had lessened. Instead of it burning hot and bright and demanding attention, it simmered in his belly waiting to be let out.

As soon as his orgasm was finished, he began thrusting again. This time he moved slow and deep. He savored the way Jiang Wanyin clenched around him. He loved the way he met his thrusts and moved his hips. Was he feeling it? Had Lan Xichen found his spot again?

He had half a mind to try to confirm it before remembering Jiang Wanyin’s position. Right. Making him come would be cruel more than anything else.

He went back to kissing and sucking and licking while he screwed into Jiang Wanyin. The pleasure began to grow once again. It bloomed and made his blood run hot and had his heartbeat gushing in his ears.

His second orgasm hit him by surprise and he came inexplicably quickly with a yelp as he ground in once more.

“Hhnng…sh-shit—” he stuttered out, breathless and tight.

After that, time passed strangely. He still wasn’t ready to properly finish. He’d always had good stamina and discovered while on the run that also applied to bedroom activities. He remained hard and excited and began again almost immediately.

He didn’t know how long he went at Jiang Wanyin. What he did know was that by the time he was finished, his body was weak and shaking. He could barely thrust in anymore with how tense and aching his legs were. Lans were known for arm strength, not leg strength.

The last time he came, when he finally pulled out for good, he collapsed onto the ground. He panted as his ears pounded and his chest heaved. His body shivered though he wasn’t cold. He closed his eyes and drifted along to the satisfied buzz that took over his entire being.

He heard movement somewhere above him. He didn’t know when Wen Ruohan approached them. He blinked up at him and watched as he grabbed the plug and put it back into Jiang Wanyin. As it pushed in, white oozing liquid seeped out around it.

“Can you stand?”

Lan Xichen didn’t trust himself to speak. He shook his head. Forget standing, he didn’t think he could even lift a finger.

He heard Wen Ruohan laugh before he was being pulled up and carried bridal-style across the room. How strong Wen Ruohan must be to carry him so easily. Lan Xichen was over a hundred and eighty centimeters of pure muscle and hulking build and Wen Ruohan carried him like it was nothing.

The thoughts distracted him until he opened his eyes and found himself being moved so quickly it made his head spin. He leaned into Wen Ruohan and closed his eyes.

The last thing he remembered was being let down on something soft while something warm wiped down his body.

He woke up to something heavy and warm on top of his head lifting and playing with the loose strands of his hair. It felt good. It reminded him of the last time he saw his parents when he was younger.

It was two years after Wangji was born. They’d been with their mother that day and Lan Xichen had once again beaten their mother in a board game (she let him win) while Wangji napped in the house. He argued with her about it and he ended up tackling her to the ground. He could hear her saccharine honey-like voice laughing vibrantly at him as he yelled “no lying in Cloud Recesses” over and over again. When he’d tired himself out, they laid there on the cool grass. Her hand settled on his head and she began to hum the melody to some song Lan Xichen didn’t recognize.

They were like that for a while before his father arrived. He sat down beside them and his mother turned her face into his leg to rest her forehead against him. They talked. His voice was warm and comforting, like soup on a cold day. Lan Xichen didn’t remember what they were saying. He only remembered the feeling of his father’s much larger and warmer hand joining his mother’s on his head while he lied still on her chest.

It made his heart ache.

He blinked his eyes open, already knowing the sight that would meet him. He knew whose hand was in his hair. He knew where he was. That ache only deepened with the knowledge of his situation. He also, inexplicably, woke with his eyes wet.

Had the memory really driven him to tears?

He shifted, nuzzling deeper into the lap he was resting on. Wen Ruohan. For some reason the man allowed him to sleep on him. Yet, ahead of him, still bound to the chair, sat Jiang Wanyin.

“You’re awake.”

“Please…” Lan Xichen whispered, voice still thick from sleep. “Let Jiang Wanyin go.”

“Relax, he will be released soon.”

“How long have you been keeping him like this?”

“For about five days.”

Lan Xichen closed his eyes again. He didn’t want to face the truth in front of him. He didn’t want to acknowledge what was going on. He wanted to hide and pretend like he did with his parents. He wished he never knew what Wen Ruohan had done to Jiang Wanyin.

“This is truly upsetting you, isn’t it?”

The hand stilled, simply resting on the top of his head now. It was heavy. It held him down and still in his lap. He didn’t respond.

“You will need to accept this, Huan-Er.”

The name made him shiver. No one had called him that in years. Is that why that memory came back to him? The only thing he remembered being said that day was his father calling him that name.

A chilling thought struck him. He barely remembered his father’s voice anymore. Would Wen Ruohan’s voice eventually replace his in his memory?

“Why do I need to accept this? Why must I accept cruelty?”

Wen Ruohan chuckled above him. “Because it is not cruelty. It is merely a lesson. A natural order of events. Jiang Wanyin broke a rule and this was his punishment. He deserved it.”

No one deserved this. He opened his eyes again despite how much they burned with unshed tears. He stared at Jiang Wanyin. They were once again discussing him like he wasn’t there. Could he hear them? Did his blood boil from it? Was he angry? Disgusted? Hurt? Would he be able to bring himself to forgive Lan Xichen for his actions, understanding the situation they were in, or was he so far gone from the torture and sensory deprivation he was barely hanging onto sanity?

Lan Xichen took in a deep breath an exhaled it slowly. He didn’t respond once more. He had nothing to say which Wen Ruohan would want to hear.

“I could release him sooner. I could even allow you to treat him, if you were willing to do something in exchange.”

“Like what?”

“Take your brother in front of me.”

Lan Xichen swallowed thickly and closed his eyes once more. Fuck him. Fuck Wen Ruohan and this entire situation. He knows Lan Xichen would never willingly choose to traumatize his brother in exchange for Jiang Wanyin. He simply would not.

Never before had Lan Xichen been faced with such options but he knew his answer each and every time. It would always be Wangji. He would always put the safety and comfort of his brother before anyone else, especially himself and, now, especially Jiang Wanyin.

“You’re cruel,” Lan Xichen said with an odd hitching in his voice.

It came out weak and pathetic but he felt weak and pathetic so he supposed it fit.

Wen Ruohan laughed again. Lan Xichen found himself wanting to cut out the man’s tongue, slit his throat, take out his vocal cords if it meant never having to hear the bastard laugh at him ever again.

“One day you will find choosing to follow my requests useful, necessary, even. You will find my way is the best way.” He felt Wen Ruohan shift above him, body now looming over his. His voice was low when he continued, “there will come a time when you will take Lan Wangji willingly. And you will enjoy it. Not because of the act itself, but because you will take pleasure in following my orders.”

There might come a day where that is true but it is not today. Nor will it be tomorrow or the next. Wen Ruohan would have to do a lot more to him, Wangji, and Jiang Wanyin for him to willingly choose and enjoy taking advantage of his brother in such a way. Wen Ruohan already knew that. In fact, he was practically promising it. But for now, Lan Xichen could pretend that day would never come.

Tears dribbled from the corners of his eyes. His eyes and cheeks and chest burned from rage and helplessness and sadness.

“Take Jiang Wanyin again.”

“You take him,” Lan Xichen seethed immediately.

The hand on his head gripped his hair and yanked his head up. Lan Xichen winced as he was forced to crane his neck and look up at Wen Ruohan. He glared at the man, face still red and tears still falling.

“You don’t want me to take him,” he growled. “Believe me.”

“I will not be a conduit for your torture. If you want to torture someone, do it yourself!”

Wen Ruohan moved so quickly Lan Xichen couldn’t keep up. Before he could blink, he was being yanked up again by his hair and thrown to the ground. He tumbled down the platform and landed on the tile with an oomph. His head hit something hard and he was dazed for a moment. He couldn’t track Wen Ruohan or anything else as his vision swam. He was picked up quickly again by the hair and thrown this time into a wall where his head hit it with a thunk and he sank to the ground with a groan.

This time blackness fully encapsulated his vision before he squeezed his eyes shut. He pressed his hands to his head, yearning for the pain to subside.

The room grew darker as a shadow loomed over him once more. He blinked through the tears and the black spots up at Wen Ruohan’s enraged expression. His heart skipped a beat. This was the same look he had when he stood over Jiang Wanyin that day, and look what happened to him. Lan Xichen froze.

Despite how furious he looked, his voice was calm and cool as he spoke. “If I want to torture someone, I should do it myself? Very well, Lan Xichen.”

He grabbed Lan Xichen’s wrist in a bruising grip and dragged him in front of Jiang Wanyin before throwing him down at his feet. He pulled his hair and twisted it around his hand a few times to make a satisfactory handle and wrenched his head back, forcing him to stare up at Jiang Wanyin. In his other hand was a knife.

Lan Xichen was immediately reminded of the hairpin he used on him before. Everything else faded as the knife glinted in the daylight allowed in from the windows and balcony doors. His heart beat in his ears. He watched seemingly in slow motion as it inched closer to Jiang Wanyin’s body.

Wait.

His breath caught in his lungs.

No, wait. Don’t.

He smoothed the knife down one of Jiang Wanyin’s thighs until it reached his groin. Lan Xichen watched wide-eyed as it then stroked up and down Jiang Wanyin’s bound member.

“That night, you made a request. Do you remember what it was?”

He’d made a few requests but he figured he knew which request Wen Ruohan was referring to. Of course he remembered. He asked Wen Ruohan if he could use something other than oil to help ease the prep.

“After the request, you did something even I didn’t expect. Do you remember what it was?”

He did. He hadn’t planned on doing so initially but he thought it would make it easier and that Jiang Wanyin’s reaction would be entertaining. He was right. It was.

“Take out the plug.”

With shaking hands, Lan Xichen reached forward and eased the plug out of Jiang Wanyin’s hole. Immediately come dripped from the opening. That didn’t make sense. It had to have dried since he took him. Did Wen Ruohan take him after Lan Xichen? How long had he been asleep?

“Do it again,” Wen Ruohan ordered.

He already knew where this was going and he didn’t have to be told twice. He eyed the knife still poised right beneath Jiang Wanyin’s scrotum. He wouldn’t be the reason Jiang Wanyin was castrated. He wouldn’t be the reason Jiang Wanyin experienced more torture.

Lan Xichen shuffled forward and gripped Jiang Wanyin’s thighs. He jumped. He clearly did not understand what Wen Ruohan was referencing though he might also have simply been distracted by the knife.

He dipped his head in at an angle and speared his tongue in. The taste was acrid. It was sour and musky and nauseating but he didn’t care. He could handle the awful taste. It was the texture that was difficult to get past. The skin of Jiang Wanyin’s hole was loose and hot and leathery and the spend was both creamy and gelatinous with flakes in it. It made his stomach churn.

Each push in with his tongue forced out more liquid and Lan Xichen could feel it slither down his throat or dribble out on the sides of his mouth. Gods this was disgusting. He felt himself tearing up again. He wanted to pull away but the hand in his hair held him firmly in place between Jiang Wanyin’s cheeks.

In the back of his mind, Lan Xichen was noticing something he’d been aware of when he was fucking Jiang Wanyin but hadn’t quite been able to parse out.

He wasn’t reacting.

That night when Lan Xichen tongued him, he’d been a moaning and shaking mess. Now, he wasn’t even moving. It was like he couldn’t feel it. It was the same when he’d been fucking him. He met his thrusts and ground his hips down but Jiang Wanyin hadn’t gained any pleasure from it. He knew what Jiang Wanyin acted like when he was being pleasured. That wasn’t it.

Was he numb from all of the abuse? Had Wen Ruohan done something to him to make it impossible for him to feel?

Regardless, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that eventually Lan Xichen stopped feeling liquid entering his mouth until all he was doing was fucking Jiang Wanyin with his tongue. After a few moments of that, Wen Ruohan dragged him up again by his hair and threw him over Jiang Wanyin. He collapsed on top of him.

He didn’t have time to correct his position before he felt a hand on his hip and one on his member. The one on his member began stroking hard and fast and tight and Lan Xichen cried out from the sensations. It hurt. It was too much. It felt like he was trying to wring the come out from him but he wasn’t even hard and the hand was dry.

“Ah, wait…nngh, Master…” Lan Xichen panted.

This went on until Lan Xichen felt himself grow hard and leaking. Once Wen Ruohan was satisfied with the state he was in, he lined Lan Xichen up with Jiang Wanyin’s hole and shoved him in by the hand on his hip. He cried out again while Jiang Wanyin was shoved up the chair with a groan.

Everything stopped then. The only sounds were Lan Xichen’s panting as he was held still deep inside Jiang Wanyin. He gripped the chair and rested his head on Jiang Wanyin’s shoulder with his eyes closed.

He couldn’t understand what was happening. What was Wen Ruohan planning?

“If you move, I will cut off Jiang Wanyin’s dick.”

Lan Xichen swallowed and nodded. Understood.

He felt Wen Ruohan move away and heard him moving around the room. He used that moment to looked over Jiang Wanyin. It didn’t seem like he’d hurt him at all. He couldn’t see any bleeding or cuts. Still, Lan Xichen wanted to check in with him.

“I don’t know what’s going on. I angered him but I’ll do everything in my power to ensure it doesn’t reflect on you. Are you alright?”

Jiang Wanyin nodded.

“Good. Can you answer some more questions for me?” He nodded. “Can you feel me inside of you?” He shook his head. “Could you feel me licking you out?” He shook his head.

How bizarre. What had Wen Ruohan done to him?

“Was it a talisman or some other form of cultivation?”

He shook his head.

Even if it was numbness from the amount of sex he’d been forced to endure, he should still be able to feel him inside of him. This was something else. But what else could it be?

He didn’t have time to ask further as Wen Ruohan returned to their side with wads of rope. He gripped one of Lan Xichen’s hands and forced him to hold onto the chair before wrapping one of the rope strands around it, binding his hand to the chair. He then went to the other side and did the same thing to the other one.

Lan Xichen was now bound to the chair’s arms by his hands and wrists. Just what was Wen Ruohan doing? How was this torture?

He then went behind Lan Xichen and pulled his legs apart until they were the same width as the chair legs. Each ankle was then bound to each chair leg. Lan Xichen was stuck slightly bent over Jiang Wanyin with his legs apart. The only thing he could move was his hips. The experience overall almost reminded him of what it felt like to hold a prolonged planking position.

Wen Ruohan then came up behind him and pushed him further over Jiang Wanyin and forcing him even deeper inside. Lan Xichen let out a soft groan at the pressure of it all on his hard dick. Each minuscule movement of him and Jiang Wanyin pressed against him from all sides and Lan Xichen fought the urge to grind into him. He would not do this. He would not be used to torture Jiang Wanyin.

If Wen Ruohan wanted him to rape him again he’d have to do it himself.

Hands found their way onto his back and began smoothing paths down his skin, massaging as they went. A body pressed up behind him. Something hard pressed against his cheeks and grinded against them. Lan Xichen grit his teeth.

The hands moved from his back down to his hips and thighs. Deft fingers worked the straining muscles there and up his abdomen. They worked their way up until they got to his head just below where his headband sat. Lan Xichen sucked in a breath and tried to pull at his restraints. That was too far.

Just as he began to struggle, he felt something cold against his back. Lan Xichen stopped fighting.

“You see, Huan-Er. Torture doesn’t necessarily mean pain. There are different kinds, all good, all effective, if you know who you’re torturing.”

Wen Ruohan leaned forward until he was flush with Lan Xichen’s back. The weight pushed him further into Jiang Wanyin. His breath tickled Lan Xichen’s ear and made him shiver. The knife moved down his back down to in between his cheeks.

“I don’t have to hurt you to torture you.”

Those fingers moved closer to the headband. Lan Xichen squeezed his eyes shut. He clenched his teeth to fight against saying something that would get him in more trouble. He tried to breathe through the emotions coursing through him.

Wen Ruohan knew what the headband represented. He knew what it meant to anyone within the Lan sect. He knew what it would mean for him to both remove it and misuse it nevermind even touching it.

The fingers moved up and under the headband, pulling it away from his forehead, toying with the fabric. Lan Xichen swallowed down a sound. The tears were back.

He could feel Wen Ruohan playing with the headband. He ran his fingers along it, caressing it just as he’d caressed his back and his hair. He wanted to shake him off or move away but he couldn’t. The knife was still pressed against him. There was no doubt in his mind that Wen Ruohan would use that knife inside of him if Lan Xichen did anything.

He was ordered not to move.

All at once the headband was ripped off. “No!” Lan Xichen cried. His tears fell freely.

“Come now, is it not more shameful for you to wear it while doing these things?”

The angle of the knife changed and the hand down there moved, pulling his hips back slightly. Hands were once more on his member. They stroked the few inches they had access to and caressed his scrotum until he was fully hard again. Then, something Lan Xichen could have never expected Wen Ruohan to do happened.

Something began wrapping around the base of his genitalia.

“This is a far better place for something like this to be used, don’t you think?”

“Go to hell."

The knife sliced at the crease of his thighs and hips and Lan Xichen groaned at the white-hot searing pain it left in its wake. He clenched the chair’s arms so hard he thought his fingers might break from the strain.

When Wen Ruohan was finished he backed away entirely leaving Lan Xichen with nothing but the sensations of what he’d done. The ribbon was wrapped around his member. It wasn’t too tight. There was just enough pressure for him to feel it. It was the same thing with his scrotum. Wen Ruohan had bound them as well so that they were tied up and separated. The stretch and compression left a dull ache but it wasn’t impossible to handle.

What was impossible to handle was the shame of it all. The embarrassment. How could he let Wen Ruohan do this to him? How could he allow someone to misuse his forehead ribbon in such a way? He never removed it in public, hardly allowed anyone besides his uncle to touch it. Not even Wangji would dare go close unless it was necessary. And yet Wen Ruohan had played with it, touched it, removed it, and tied it around his member.

He hid his head in the crick of Jiang Wanyin’s neck. He couldn’t face Wen Ruohan. He couldn’t bear to face what he’d done.

“Do you see?” Lan Xichen didn’t respond but he didn’t think Wen Ruohan really wanted him to. “Now then, I’m going to use you. You’re going to hold still and allow it.”

Lan Xichen didn’t have a chance to respond before two fingers were being shoved inside him dry. His entire body went taut as all focus went to his hole where he’d been ripped open. Something animalistic slinked out from his slack lips. He couldn’t even scream.

He couldn’t stop those strange, tight sounds as Wen Ruohan shoved in and out. Each thrust burned like rubbing raw knees against wood. Each twist and stretch of the fingers seared sharp like the feeling of the knife carving up his hips. His body trembled.

At one point something hot and slick and watery began to drip and Lan Xichen knew he was bleeding.

It was only then Wen Ruohan removed his fingers fully and something else was pressed against his entrance.

He wanted to beg him not to. He wanted to beg him to stop or wait or at least let him catch his breath but he couldn’t. His lips and tongue were too numb. There was no control.

Wen Ruohan spread his cheeks. That thing at his entrance moved away. Then all at once it was slamming into him and Lan Xichen screamed.

Lan Xichen once wondered how much pain a person could endure.

When Wangji had his leg broken and was forced to go on night hunts as bait and could no longer walk properly, Lan Xichen wondered if his brother had reached his limit. When he watched someone be burned alive in the attack on Cloud Recesses, heard their screams of agony, he wondered if that was the extent of pain someone could handle. When he imagined Jiang Wanyin losing his core and the description he gave, Lan Xichen figured that was the worst pain someone could experience.

Now, here he was, being ripped in half for the sexual enjoyment of a sadistic man. He was aware he was crying. He had to be, with how damp and hot his face was. He knew he was in more pain than he’d ever experienced, judging by how tense his muscles were and the blood leaking out from his hole.

Yet, for some reason, his mind couldn’t comprehend it.

It couldn’t connect the throbbing radiating through his lower back and butt. It couldn’t comprehend the searing feeling of someone ripping off his skin each time Wen Ruohan thrust in. It couldn’t accept nauseating fullness each time Wen Ruohan was fully inside him.

Everything was so much all at once. It was too much. And all Lan Xichen could do was take it.

He thought he was disgusting for the things he’d done to Jiang Wanyin. Now he knows he was merciful in comparison. He could’ve made it so much worse. He could’ve chosen to take him truly dry. He could have pounded into him with abandon without so much as a single care for him. But he didn’t. And so he was better.

He was better than the monster that had taken them hostage.

The worst part of it all was how he could feel himself straining against the forehead ribbon. Pressure was building in his gut and in his member as it swelled. There was pleasure in every other thrust where Wen Ruohan found his prostate. He knew he grew even tighter when it was hit and so he took advantage of it. But that left Lan Xichen hard and aching, lost in such a mix of pleasure and pain that his body and his mind didn’t know what to do with it.

He didn’t know how long this had gone on for but Wen Ruohan must be close. He must almost be finished. It couldn’t take him so long to come, could it?

He sobbed out at a particularly hard and deep thrust as Wen Ruohan grinded against him. Then he did it again. He’d slowed down but started going harder, shoving into him with bruising slaps. Once more. Again. And then finally he was stopping and something warm was filling him.

Wen Ruohan began shallowly thrusting again to pleasure himself through his orgasm until he was finished. Something limp fell out of him and liquid gushed out with it. He thought this was over until the same plug that had been in Jiang Wanyin was being shoved inside him.

He let out a high-pitched groan as it stretched his hole. Lan Xichen immediately tried pushing it out but hands were untying the forehead ribbon before retying it to secure the plug in him. The ribbon was still wrapped around his genitalia but now held the plug tightly inside by tying the ends around his hips and securing it to the front once more around his member in an odd harness. Then, hands were on his thighs, binding them to Jiang Wanyin’s to keep their hips flush.

It was only once Lan Xichen was bound tightly to Jiang Wanyin that Wen Ruohan let go of him. Lan Xichen collapsed. His legs shook and spasmed uselessly. His shoulders ached from trying to hold up his body weight. He panted into Jiang Wanyin’s chest.

He had to be done. There was nothing else he could do to him, right? He was finished?

Wen Ruohan seemed to have other plans. He returned once more and yanked Lan Xichen’s head back. Something was shoved in his mouth before something else was wrapped tightly around his head, securing whatever was in his mouth. He was being gagged. Then something else was wrapped around his head to cover his eyes. Everything was tight and created unrelenting pressure that immediately made his head ache.

That had to be it, right?

Except Wen Ruohan was toying with the plug. Lan Xichen wanted to sob but the gag was suffocating. No sound could get out and any attempt made him choke.

Nothing happened for a moment and Lan Xichen wondered if this would be it. Of course it wouldn’t be. Something happened with the plug and Lan Xichen began to shudder and convulse. No way. Was it…was it vibrating?

It was right up against his spot and it left him gagging in ecstasy. Molten hot pleasure ran through his entire body. He began struggling wildly, thrusting in and out of Jiang Wanyin, twisting and turning, trying to get away from this all-consuming bizarre sensation. Then, he came.

He sagged again as his body gave out on him once more and still the vibrations didn’t stop. He was almost immediately hard again. His body once more chased the pleasure despite his exhaustion and he came again with a harsh cry as tears dampened the blindfold.

From somewhere far away he heard a door close.

___________________

Lan Xichen’s Lan training will never leave him. This is the only reason he accepted being awake. He assumed it’s either 5am or around there. The sky was dark outside with very little moonlight shining in. He could hardly see.

The first thing he realized after waking up is how numb everything was. His entire lower half felt as though static had taken over. His legs and lower back were practically buzzing. His hole ached fiercely. And for some reason the forehead ribbon was still wrapped around the base of his member.

The second thing he noticed is that he was lying on top of something that was moving, solid and warm. He’s lying on top of a body. That body had a hand around his waist holding him in place.

Lan Xichen blinked the sleep out of his eyes and sat up before gasping as fire twinged up his back and he immediately laid back down. Still, even with that split-second view, he saw that he was lying on top of Wen Ruohan.

The man was brave. He left both him and Jiang Wanyin unbound to sleep on top of him. He must truly believe they aren’t a threat to him. That left something sour in his stomach. Mostly because, at that moment, it was true. Lan Xichen couldn’t move. He tried but he was simply in too much pain.

He sighed and closed his eyes again, willing sleep to return to him. Of course, it couldn’t, no matter how exhausted he was.

He gave up quickly and decided to spend his time looking over Jiang Wanyin, who was sleeping peacefully beside him. He was thinner than he last saw him. There were red marks and deep indentations from where the blindfold and gag chafed and cut into his skin. One hand was resting loose on Wen Ruohan’s chest and he could see the damage done there.

It appeared Jiang Wanyin struggled valiantly against his restraints. His wrist was a mess of chafed skin and patches of rope burns that rubbed off pieces of flesh. He imagined his other wrist, legs, and ankles met the same cruel fate.

Like this, in the dim moonlight, Jiang Wanyin looked so young. Despite the clear dehydration and starvation he still had some of that baby fat in his cheeks. His cheek squished into Wen Ruohan’s chest. Lan Xichen smiled faintly at that. The innocence was gone. It would never return. But at least he could gain some peace in his sleep.

He lifted a trembling arm and pushed back some of Jiang Wanyin’s overgrown bangs behind his ear. They’d been tickling at his face.

He was startled when he next looked into his face to see dark eyes open staring at him. Lan Xichen jumped. He drew his hand away and met Jiang Wanyin’s sharp gaze. He wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Jiang Wanyin closed his eyes and shook his head. Lan Xichen swallowed.

He agreed. Now wasn’t the time. They could debrief and lick each other’s wounds later.

He closed his eyes again hoping for sleep to return to him.

The next time he opened his eyes the room was bright and he was no longer laying on a body. Jiang Wanyin lay next to him still curled into himself the way he was the night before though he too was awake. Lan Xichen blinked and tried to look around, only to see Wen Ruohan sitting…in that chair.

Just seeing it sent shivers down his spine. He looked away. He couldn’t look at it without feeling nauseous. Had it really been an entire day? Had it really only been one day?

“How do you feel?” Wen Ruohan asked.

Lan Xichen felt his breathing speed up and he clenched the sheets in his fists. He couldn’t respond even if he wanted to do. His jaw was sore and his neck was killing him. Jiang Wanyin too did not seem to be in a speaking mood as he also didn’t respond.

Wen Ruohan set his teacup down. Lan Xichen tracked his movements as he crossed the room and sat down beside him. He placed a hand on Lan Xichen’s arm and he flinched. Wen Ruohan grinned.

He pushed him onto his stomach and Lan Xichen let out a fearful, pathetic noise close to a whine. Please, he wanted to beg. Please don’t. He wouldn’t be able to take it. He was in so much pain already.

“Shh…” Wen Ruohan soothed. “You’ve done well. You two can rest for today. Anything you may need will be provided upon request.”

He brushed through Lan Xichen’s hair and he hated how nice it felt. One thing he noticed in this moment is that despite the pain, he didn’t feel gross. It was as though Wen Ruohan had actually cleaned him up. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? He wouldn’t do such a thing.

“You will find I am not simply cruel for cruelty’s sake, though I do find it fun. I am here to teach you how to best please me. You are mine and I treat my things well.”

Until you break them, Lan Xichen thought with bitterness.

He’d been used and tortured for an entire day. Jiang Wanyin was used and tortured for practically five days. Wen Ruohan was fooling himself if he truly believed he was treating them well.

“Those chains span the length of a third of the room. You may move freely about the area. Everything you will need will be within reach. Rest well. Relax. I will return later.”

With that, Wen Ruohan got up and left the room. He was serious. He was just going to leave them like that. What the hell?

Still…chain?

He heard clanking next to him and turned to see Jiang Wanyin messing with a length of chain connecting his collar to the wall. Looking at where the chain connected to the wall, he could see a separate length connecting to his collar as well. He toyed with it. The links were secure. He wouldn’t be able to break them without a tool.

Lan Xichen sighed and relaxed into the bed facing away from Jiang Wanyin. Seeing him when he was asleep was one thing. Seeing him in the darkness of night where he can hide more easily and pretend at nothing happening was one thing. This, here, now, in broad daylight while fully awake? He couldn’t do it.

Jiang Wanyin may not have seen him be assaulted, but he heard it and felt it. He had to have. Lan Xichen was literally bound to him. More than that, Lan Xichen assaulted him. He wasn’t nearly as cruel as Wen Ruohan but he’d still done it. How could he face Jiang Wanyin after such events, in this state?

“I was worried before…that you were becoming…bitter…” Jiang Wanyin whispered in broken, stilted statements. “I thought…that wouldn’t do…because we wouldn’t make it…if two of us were like that…” He sounded amused. Lan Xichen couldn’t tell at who or what.

Lan Xichen cleared his throat. “I’m not—” Bitter? Angry? Despondent? He was all of these things and more. Most of all, though? “I feel…hopeless.”

“I told you…didn’t I? You…can’t…let it…get to you…” his voice was growing weaker by the moment. It was going to give out at any point.

Lan Xichen turned to look at him. Jiang Wanyin was sitting up and leaning against a pile of pillows. He was curled around a particularly large one with his head resting on it. He blinked lazily at him.

Any argument Lan Xichen had died on his tongue. It probably hurt him to stretch out or fully lay down. He was probably more exhausted than Lan Xichen yet he was still trying to make him feel better. That surge of anger dispersed instantly upon seeing him, replaced with something he could only describe as a deep sadness.

“How can you say that after everything you just went through? You’re resilient, Jiang Wanyin. I will give you that.”

“Why…did you…make him…mad?”

Lan Xichen sighed. He pushed himself up and glanced around. Wen Ruohan said they’d have everything they needed nearby. Jiang Wanyin needed water.

He heard movement in the room and was startled to see a guard approaching them with bottles of water. He didn’t even know that person was in here. The man silently deposited the bottles onto the bed between them before returning to his post at the door.

Lan Xichen waited to see if he would do or say anything else. When nothing else happened, he grabbed the bottle closest to him and handed it to Jiang Wanyin. Jiang Wanyin reached out and took the bottle, though he nearly dropped it. Lan Xichen had to help him support the bottle on the pillow and tilt it so he could suckle at it like a newborn. Lan Xichen took the other one and drank it down.

How long had it been since either of them had had anything to drink?

The water was cool and quenching. He could feel it course down his throat and into his body. Just that was enough to make him feel as though he had a second chance at life.

“I did not want to anger him. He made me angry.”

“By telling you to use me?”

“By telling me I could—” Lan Xichen paused. Was he really about to tell Jiang Wanyin this? No…he didn’t need to know. “By telling me he’d be kinder if I took Wangji in front of him. That was why, when he told me to take you again, I grew angry.”

“You didn’t want to torture anyone.”

“No. I didn’t.”

“…did it work?”

“…you already know the answer to that.”

Jiang Wanyin got this odd look in his eyes. They were wide and staring as though he were seeing Lan Xichen for the first time. He then looked away to take a few more sips of water. Lan Xichen watched his throat work as he greedily swallowed each drop. He watched the way his lips tightened around the bottle. He looked away, fighting off the imagined feeling of those lips wrapped around him, that throat working to swallow him down, the warmth and pressure and pleasure.

“I don’t mind,” Jiang Wanyin said.

Lan Xichen flinched. He knew what Jiang Wanyin was getting at but gods what terrible timing. He closed his eyes hoping it would appear he was struggling with such information.

Jiang Wanyin continued, “I don’t like it, but if I can keep you and Lan Wangji from knowing each other so intimately, then fine.”

Lan Xichen did not respond right away. How could he? Jiang Wanyin had given him open permission to essentially do anything they wanted to him, if it meant keeping him and Wangji away from each other. Jiang Wanyin was clearly disgusted at the mere thought of incest…but that was too much.

“What did Wen Ruohan say to you?”

Jiang Wanyin now looked away. His fingers clumsily pulled at the edges of the pillow. It was like watching a baby interact with the world for the first time. Jiang Wanyin did not appear to have full usage of his limbs. Either that, or he was still unaccustomed to using them once more.

“Things. Don’t worry about it…What happened that night…won’t happen again. Things will be easier.”

Lan Xichen wondered what that truly meant but couldn’t find it in himself to ask. Wen Ruohan had tortured him for days. He deprived him of his senses and turned him into essentially a living sex toy. It was humiliating. Dehumanizing. Traumatizing. He couldn’t imagine what sort of lies he fed him.

His heart hurt for the young man desperately avoiding his gaze in front of him.

“It’s not true,” Lan Xichen tried, gently. “This isn’t your fault. You’re not being greedy and you alone are certainly not making this any worse. If anything, it’s my fault. I wanted to make you feel good. I wanted to make it good for you, after everything you’ve done for us.”

Some of that personality returned as Jiang Wanyin rolled his eyes and scoffed. It made him smile.

“I…haven’t done anything…worthy of your thanks.”

“Just like the cave?” Lan Xichen teased.

Jiang Wanyin rolled his eyes again. He released a huff but didn’t say anything to express his frustration.

“You should learn to accept when people offer you true appreciation. Everyone is capable of doing things worthy of thanks.” When Jiang Wanyin opened his mouth to argue, Lan Xichen continued, “—Yes, even you. Wen Ruohan lied to you. You aren’t the reason we’re here. He is. Never forget that. None of us would be here if he hadn’t started a war.”

He knew those words would not be enough. Jiang Wanyin was stubborn. And more than that, his self-worth issues were extreme. It seemed, to him, he was not capable of doing good, of being worth accepting praise. If he did accept it, like the times he’d heard Wei Wuxian praise him, it seemed he did not take it to heart. No wonder Wen Ruohan had such an easy time convincing him of such lies and no doubt more.

Lan Xichen didn’t know much about the Jiang family besides the surface level information and display they provided publicly. Still, he couldn’t imagine it being easy to grow up with Madam Yu Ziyuan as your mother. How deeply must his insecurities be rooted, clearly from childhood, for him to be so stubborn and unaccepting.

Lan Xichen yearned to do more for him. They were stuck in the same situation. Both of them were at the mercy of Wen Ruohan and his whims. If Wen Ruohan intended to use Jiang Wanyin’s weaknesses against him, it would be all too easy, and Jiang Wanyin would fall, no matter how much he fought on the way down.

It made him wonder how quickly he’d succumb. Would he give in just as easily? Would he fold soon enough? Would it be only to protect Wangji, or would Wen Ruohan’s lies and abuse seep beneath his skin too?

Jiang Wanyin closed his eyes and took in a deep breath and held it, as though he were savoring the simple ability to breathe. Time moved slowly as they both laid there quietly. The only sounds were their breathing and the occasional rustles of sheets between them.

Lan Xichen was close to dozing off when he heard a quiet voice say, “thank you for making me feel good…and you’re welcome, for saving Lan Wangji…I hope, if either one of us makes it out whole, it’s you, Lan Xichen.”

For some reason, Lan Xichen felt like this wasn’t meant for him to hear—the private thoughts of a pained young man. He ignored the wetness on his cheeks to savor the soft-spoken, almost reverent words.

He disagreed, however. If either of them deserved to come out of this whole, it was Jiang Wanyin, who’d lost so much already. The last thing he should lose is himself.

He wondered, idly, if he and Wangji would come out of this in any recognizable form compared to how they are now, or if these experiences would simply be too much for the both of them. Lan Xichen dreaded the promises Wen Ruohan’s made. The whispers of what was to come were almost too much to bear.

And yet, bear they would, because what choice did they have in the matter?

Selfishly, Lan Xichen found him gazing at Jiang Wanyin’s fluttering lashes, the tear tracks on his cheeks, and thought:

At least they aren’t here alone.