#and lao wen's also 'oh.... is that an invitation??' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

robininthelabyrinth · 10 months

Note

Hello it's last anon thank you for letting me give a prompt

So I really liked your pairing of LQR/WRH/Lao Nie and after seeing wwx's parents in the last episode of the donghua it got me thinking, How about WRH/WCZ/CSSR? WRH maybe saves them in yiling and they end up hitting it off (WRH might do it in the beginning just spite jfm by stealing his former best friend and crush) and the Wei family settles in nightless city, wwx grows up with the Wen heirs and wen Qing and wen Ning and that affects the events of Canon

(I wouldn't mind smut tbh if you want to include it, they're all hotties lol)

Thank you so much for letting me send a prompt 🙏😭❤️

ao3

“I don’t suppose you can help with this,” Wen Ruohan said to Lan Qiren, who had the unmitigated gall to look amused at him, as if he’d brought this disaster down on his own head or something like that. “Aren’t you supposed to be friends with that awful -”

“Cangse Sanren and I are indeed good friends,” Lan Qiren said peaceably and tonelessly, possibly just because he was trying to annoy Wen Ruohan to death. “I am therefore very familiar with the fact that there is absolutely nothing I can do to stop her from proceeding precisely as she wishes.”

That was not what Wen Ruohan wanted to hear.

“You’re her friend,” he said, deciding to focus on the important part. “Take her away.”

“You’re the sect leader of the Nightless City,” Lan Qiren rebutted. “Order her to leave.”

Wen Ruohan couldn’t do that.

Well, he could. By all rights, he ought to have done it a month ago, when Cangse Sanren had first marched into the Fire Palace and said, “Oh, this will work perfectly! I love it, you’re so thoughtful!” and started rearranging the entire place into some sort of workshop for herself, possibly involving grain storage. He’d meant to, but he’d been a bit distracted at the time – Wei Changze had wanted to know what all the machines did, and he’d had an endless number of clever ideas on how some of them could be repurposed for things other than torture, some of which had been really very intriguing.

Anyway, it wasn’t as if Wen Ruohan had time to attend torture sessions any more, not with three loudly yelling children running around all the time. Wei Wuxian might be the youngest of the lot, with both Wen Xu and Wen Chao as his elders, but he’d managed in a very short amount of time to make himself the undoubted leader of the pack and spoiled beloved youngest all at the same time. There had even been avid discussions about how they would need to bring other children over to visit in order to better socialize the children. He’d already summoned some cousins over, Wen Qing and Wen Ning, which meant that soon there would be even more children…

It was a headache, really.

Absolutely.

Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren were driving him up the wall.

They were also regular visitors in his bed, something that would very likely rapidly stop being the case if he actually kicked them out of the Nightless City.

“This one’s on you, Hanhan,” Lao Nie put in, grinning wildly at him. Now there was one that was completely unmoved by the news of Wen Ruohan’s new relationship – everyone else had reacted, whether by Jiang Fengmian’s profound embarrassment, raging jealousy, and quiet fury, Jin Guangshan very obviously trying to calculate some way of using this to his advantage, and Lan Qiren immediately going over to question his friends’ sanity – and that was pretty annoying in its own way. After all, Wen Ruohan had really only invited the two rogue cultivators into his bed in the first place as a matter of spite, a way of excising his rage when he’d heard the rumors about Lao Nie potentially taking on a third wife.

He hadn’t expected them to stay.

He hadn’t expected to want them to stay.

Which he didn’t! They were a mess, each one worse than the next – Cangse Sanren was barely human most days, like some sort of feral demonic beast that had accidentally achieved human form and continuously forgot (thanks to her prodigiously bad memory) that she was supposed to be pretending to be normal, and Wei Changze was remarkably similar to Lao Nie in the sense that he’d never taken anything seriously in his life, except for the fact that his humor was lighthearted and unleavened by the hints of trauma and tragedy that lurked behind Lao Nie’s unbridled hedonism. There wasn’t anything that he wouldn’t let slide off his shoulders, forgetting a beating as soon as it was over…Wei Changze might be a lot less vicious than Lao Nie was, but he was reckless to the extreme, in a way that made absolutely no sense. Wasn’t he supposed to be a servant? What was he doing rushing out into the field with a sword and smile and absolutely no advance planning whatsoever? Even Lao Nie wouldn’t do that!

Anyway, they were a handful.

They were maddening.

They were the most interesting thing that had happened to Wen Ruohan in years.

“Your input is not required,” Wen Ruohan informed Lao Nie, who shrugged expansively. “Unless you have something constructive to add.”

“No, no, nothing constructive, you know me, I’m not built for that…but I’m glad that you’re happy.”

Wen Ruohan stopped where he was.

“I’m not right for you,” Lao Nie said, and even though he was still smiling, same as always, there was something sharp in his eyes – the same sharpness that had caught Wen Ruohan’s interest in the first place, like a beautiful dagger that you longed to touch even though you knew its biting edge might cut. “You know, I know, even Qiren knows it…you’re happy now, and that’s good. That’s all I wanted to say.”

Wen Ruohan wanted to say something.

Preferably something cutting, something about how it was too late for Lao Nie to regret – except he didn’t think Lao Nie did regret, because Lao Nie did not live a life of regret. Lao Nie had enjoyed their time together, had been as sincere and true as he was made to be and no further. But, and maybe it was because he’d never expected to keep Wen Ruohan for very long in the first place, he’d felt little sorrow at it ending, instead feeling nothing but joy on Wen Ruohan’s behalf at seeing him happy, even if it was with another.

Wen Ruohan didn’t understand that. He’d always loved too fiercely, too well; he’d always yearned to keep that which he cared for close to him, nearby, somewhere he could protect them and keep them.

Even Lao Nie…Wen Ruohan had been enticed by Lao Nie’s ruthlessness, his bloodthirstiness, his Nie sect temper tempered with a nasty sort of cunning that had made him remarkably successful at expanding his sect’s reach in the north, and he’d been flattered at how persistent the other man was in pursuing him. It was only later, when he’d gotten used to having him around, that he had started to feel jealous…

“They’ll be good for you,” Lao Nie said. His eye twinkled. “You could use a bit of chaos in your life.”

Wen Ruohan shook his head. “I’m trying to get rid of them,” he protested, but even he didn’t believe what he was saying. “They’re a menace. Especially Cangse Sanren – do you know that she’s literally doomed? I swear, I spend all my trying keeping her from getting herself killed…”

“Don’t you enjoy defying the heavens?” Lan Qiren asked, rolling his eyes as if Wen Ruohan were missing something obvious. “I would have thought that someone carting around a heaven-sent calamity would be a perk for someone like you.”

…it rather was, wasn’t it?

“Whatever. Fine. Leave it, I’ll figure it out myself,” Wen Ruohan grumbled, then turned his narrowed eyes on the two of them. “Now for something you can help with: My children need more socialization or else they’ll genuinely think Wei Wuxian is a good example of other children. Sect Leader Lan – you’re a teacher, aren’t you…?”

“Well, yes. But –”

“What a wonderful idea!” Lao Nie clapped his hands together. “I can send my two boys to Qiren to teach, too! And we can definitely bully Fengmian and Guangshan into sending theirs. It’ll be…oh, I don’t know. A regular summer excursion!”

“In my sect?” Lan Qiren asked, arching his eyebrows. “Why me?”

“Because you’re a teacher, of course. Anyway, are you saying you don’t want Cangse Sanren to crash at your place for a few months..?”

“She’s not going anywhere,” Wen Ruohan said at once. When both of them smirked at him, he scowled. “Even if I wanted her too, she’s not. It was a statement of fact, nothing more.”

“Then perhaps we should all come visit the Nightless City instead,” Lao Nie said. “It could be like a miniature discussion conference, except limited to the Great Sects – we could go night-hunting and such while Qiren teaches the children.”

Was Lao Nie proposing an orgy? He’d better not be proposing an orgy, not if he genuinely intended to invite Jiang Fengmian and his wife or Jin Guangshan and his to attend…

“Of course, if it’s focused on the children, maybe the adults aren’t entirely necessary to invite – well, except for you, as the host, Qiren as the teacher, and me as the person who came up with the idea…”

Lao Nie was definitely proposing an orgy.

“…I’ll see what Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze have to say about it,” Wen Ruohan allowed. But only because he thought that it was something they would very much like, and he’d been completely out of ideas on what he could get a couple as notoriously disinterested in material goods as a courting gift – he hated not being capable, that’s all it was. There was no other reason than that! “We’ll see.”

“Did I agree to this?” Lan Qiren asked, frowning. “When did I agree to this –”

“You can’t say no,” Wen Ruohan said. “I’ll set Cangse Sanren on you if you do.”

“…I see that I’ve agreed to this.”

Lao Nie laughed, Lan Qiren sighed, and Wen Ruohan…

Wen Ruohan resigned himself to keeping Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze around a little longer.

Just a little.

#mdzs #wen ruohan #lan qiren #sect leader nie #cangse sanren #wei changze #my fic #my fics #posting a few of these today to finish clearing out this one word doc

158 notes · View notes

gaywatch · 2 years

Note

since you've asked about it in your recent video: GJ set ZZH's nickname on his phone as "Zhang-laoshi" (and he even calls him like that, whenever he can!), and there's nothing particularly gay about it. "Laoshi" (老师) means literally "teacher" - it's also a term you can use to address someone of the same profession but with more experience than you, who you admire. So it's nice and respectful.

but. the point is. you CAN address your spouse like that too. not in a particularly romantic way, just, we-all-know-I-talk-about-my-spouse-who-I-deeply-respect.

GJ was once invited to the show Chuang21 as a guest, and throughout it, he constantly referred to some elusive "Zhang-laoshi". those who didn't see WoH thought he literally just talks about his wife 🤣 (which was further exacerbated by the fact that the host of the show, Deng Chao, also refers to his ACTUAL wife as "Sun-laoshi").

and there were some absolutely GOLD comments about this situation - people were saying things like "oh, GJ is too much, constantly talking about his spouse", "it must be his spouse, otherwise he would use their full name and not something vague like he expects everyone to know who is he talking about", "he smiles a lot when he mentions them"........

also, on the subject of nicknames: the fandom nickname for ZZH is "laopo" (老婆) which means "wife" 😁

........and it's all because ZZH calls GJ "laogong". it's... a word play, bc "Lao Gong" could be an actual, "normal" nickname (as in, "Lao Wen" - also, Wang Yibo and Xiao Zhan were referring to each other as "Lao Xiao" and "Lao Wang" 😊 ) , but "laogong" (老公) means...... husband 🤭

OH, yeah I couldn't remember exactly what laoshi meant (and all the context/uses/etc), thank you for the clarification!

#GW Asks #ZZH #Junzhe #I heard about 'oh so it's GJ's wife then' incident lolllllllllllllllll

23 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

We’ve heard Jiang Fengmian as WWX’s bio father, now it’s time for Lan Qiren as secretly his father. (Please no Wangxian for this one!)

ao3

“You want me to what,” Lan Qiren said.

“Be the father of my child,” Cangse Sanren said. Simply and straightforwardly, as if that were just a thing people said.

Casually.

To their friends.

To their – as far as he knew – platonic friends!

“You’re married,” he stressed.

“Yes, Qiren-xiong, I’m aware,” Cangse Sanren said, her eyes bright with mirth. “I was even there through some of the festivities. Though not all, of course, since the bride gets sent away far too early at these things, and of course then there was all the liquor –”

“Cangse Sanren,” Lan Qiren said through gritted teeth, wishing not for the first time that his friend had an actual name rather than merely a title – something he could use or not use to emphasize his feelings on the subject.

She laughed at him, because of course she did.

“Let me explain,” she said, probably because she sensed that he was considering stabbing her if she didn't. “Lao Wei and I –”

“Aren’t you older than he is?” Lan Qiren asked, dubious. “Possibly by several centuries?”

“Humans call their husbands that,” Cangse Sanren said, waving her hands at him. “Don’t bother me with details.”

“…you’re human, right?”

“Of course! This is the fourth time you’ve asked, and the answer hasn’t changed. Why would you ever think otherwise?”

“The way that you continuously refer to – no, I’m not letting you distract me this time. Explain yourself!”

Cangse Sanren giggled into her sleeve. “We want children,” she said. “But he can’t, you see. Wrong parts. So we need someone else to be the sire, and I want it to be you.”

“Why?”

More giggling. “Because I like you. And why not?”

“And Wei Changze agreed to this?” Lan Qiren asked, slightly appalled. He knew Cangse Sanren well enough to assume that the answer had to be yes, and yet still...

“Yes, he did, but you’re welcome to talk with him directly. In fact, I encourage it.”

“Perhaps I will,” Lan Qiren said.

Wei Changze was a pleasant person, even if he and Lan Qiren weren’t direct friends – Lan Qiren was a bit too inflexible and serious, Wei Changze a little too free-spirited and light-hearted, so they’d never entirely bonded, but they were both very fond of Cangse Sanren in all her strangeness, each in their own way, and that was enough of a basis for a decent relationship.

“I’d be honored if you would agree,” Wei Changze said when Lan Qiren asked. “You’re my wife’s favorite person besides me – why not you?”

Lan Qiren could think of many, many reasons why not.

“I don’t want to impact your relationship with her,” he said cautiously, and Wei Changze blinked at him as if to say how would it do that? “If jealousy were to arise…”

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Wei Changze said.

“…you understand that if I agree to your proposal, I would be sleeping with your wife.”

“Oh yes,” Wei Changze said. “Several times, I hope. We've got to make sure it takes, after all. On that note, can I watch?”

Lan Qiren was a man aware of his dignity. It was beneath his dignity to flail around like a teenager.

He flailed regardless.

“You don’t have to let me if you don’t want to,” Wei Changze said, but he was pouting. “I guess. I just think it’d be hot, that’s all.”

Lan Qiren put his head in his hands.

“You’re bright red,” Wei Changze observed. “Does that mean you’ll do it?”

“I don’t even like Cangse Sanren that way,” Lan Qiren said, voice muffled by his palms. “I mean, I like her, but I don’t – like her. Romantically. At all.”

“And I’m very happy about that,” Wei Changze said soothingly. “As is she, being as she married me and not you. You don’t need to have romantic or even sexual feelings about her, you just need to platonically bang her a few times.”

“…I will do it provided you never refer to it that way ever again.”

“Deal,” Wei Changze said, and grinned, waving his wife in through the door; she bounded in like a lion on the hunt, smelling blood.

“Additionally, we should be clear about what we expect regarding the child,” Lan Qiren said, even though he was already being carted along to the bed by Cangse Sanren’s excessive momentum and Wei Changze’s entirely unnecessary assistance in removing his clothing. “Obviously any child will be yours in every respect, legally and emotionally and otherwise, both of you, but if possible I would still like to see him –”

“Of course,” Cangse Sanren said agreeably, removing his pants. “Whenever you like.”

“Something is wrong,” Lan Qiren said firmly.

Yu Ziyuan scowled at him, even as her husband frowned thoughtfully. “Cangse Sanren is a rogue cultivator,” she said acidly. “It is not unusual for rogue cultivators to go a few months without contacting their friends in the cultivation world.”

“We have an agreement that she would come by once every season or else send word. She has not missed a single instance, and yet now she does.”

“Why would she agree to meet so regularly with you? We barely see her once a year, if that,” Yu Ziyuan asked, and Lan Qiren knew her issues with Cangse Sanren were actually issues with Jiang Fengmian, but it still irritated him to be used as a pawn in their troubled marriage.

“If you do not intend to help me search, then just say so,” he said heavily. “I fear that something has happened to her, and I intend to find her; I would like your help, but will proceed without it if need be. If all is well and she just decided not to come, and also not to send word or any other sign, then I will apologize for the inconvenience and repay you any monies expended. But if not…”

“I will help,” Jiang Fengmian said, and Yu Ziyuan looked on the verge of exploding.

“I’ll leave you to sort that out,” Lan Qiren said, shaking out his sleeves and leaving at once. As per their agreement, Cangse Sanren brought Wei Ying to the Cloud Recesses once every season or else sent word explaining her absence – the lack of any word this time was deeply troubling. After all, in the end, despite Cangse Sanren’s relatively humble goals and low-key life, there was always that doom said to be associated with those who left the immortal mountain…

He worried.

He’d planned to tell Cangse Sanren about He Kexin’s death during her present visit, had hoped that Wei Ying’s presence might help lift Lan Zhan’s mood after the loss of his mother and give him some comfort – Wei Ying was Lan Zhan’s favorite person in all the world, bar none, and he had waited so anxiously, if wordlessly, for him to arrive during the month that they expected Cangse Sanren and her family to come. And yet the days ticked by and he didn’t arrive at all…

Lan Qiren worried.

Still, with Jiang Fengmian’s help, and of course the Nie sect’s – Lao Nie hadn’t hesitated to agree, even though unlike Jiang Fengmian he did not have a personal connection to either Cangse Sanren or Wei Changze and was acting wholly on account of his friendship with Lan Qiren – they would be able to cover a great deal of the cultivation world, especially given that Cangse Sanren disliked both Lanling Jin and Qishan Wen and was unlikely to venture into either of their territories.

They would find her.

He hoped that they would find her.

“Well, that was a meeting full of revelations,” Lao Nie said, eyes curved into crescents of mirth. “The only thing that would have made it better is if you’d ended your sentence with ‘so fuck off’. You know, so that it would’ve been ‘Because he’s my biological son, so fuck off’.”

“It isn’t anyone else’s business,” Lan Qiren said querulously. “I don’t consider him my son – he’s Wei Changze’s son! His surname is Wei for a reason! The exact mechanics of his conception are private-”

“Are they? Too bad, I’d have liked to hear about it.”

“Lao Nie!”

“What? It’d be hot.”

“Wei Changze said the same thing,” Lan Qiren grumbled. “What is wrong with all you people? Anyway, that was not my point; we can discuss your sexual titillation later. My point is that Wei Ying should not have a shadow cast over his parentage – I should not have had to reveal that fact at any point.”

“You had no choice,” Lao Nie said, not without sympathy. “Given that Wei Changze was a former disciple of the Lotus Pier, Jiang Fengmian had the better claim to custody absent that fact. Never mind that you were Cangse Sanren’s close friend, or that they came to visit you more often; never mind that Yu Ziyuan is to this day only barely able to restrain her jealousy and hatred of the pair of them and would be made miserable by the boy’s presence on the Lotus Pier, and possibly make his life miserable in return; never mind that Jiang Fengmian already grossly favors the boy over his own children, a surefire recipe for disaster…you had to say what you said, Qiren. Wei Ying will be better off at the Cloud Recesses.”

“He’ll be a disaster at the Cloud Recesses,” Lan Qiren said, rubbing his temples. “He’s as free-spirited as his parents were. That’s the only hesitation I have…if it weren’t for all the other things you mentioned, Yu Ziyuan’s jealousy and the favoritism and all that, I would think he’d be better off among the Jiang.”

“He will make a very unique Lan,” Lao Nie acknowledged. “But he’ll be an adopted cousin to your nephews, and they’ll grow up as brothers. A-Zhan will be delighted.”

“Yes,” Lan Qiren said, acknowledging the point. At least there was that. “Yes, he will.”

“Maybe I’ll have a talk with Jiang Fengmian,” Lao Nie said, more to himself than Lan Qiren. “That poor Jiang boy, no one deserves to grow up with a real-life person being ‘another person’s child’. Perhaps I’ll see about inviting the boy over to the Unclean Realm more often. A-Sang could use a playmate…”

“You’re weird for a Lan,” Jiang Cheng said.

“That’s because I’m not a Lan,” Wei Wuxian laughed. “I’m a Wei! Lan Zhan’s a Lan, Xichen-da-ge is a Lan, but I’m not. Don’t let the white robes mislead you.”

Jiang Cheng coughed. “That’s not – what I meant.”

Wei Wuxian blinked at him.

“Well,” Jiang Cheng said, abruptly looking extremely awkward. “Your father’s a Lan, isn’t he? Teacher Lan.”

“Oh, that! No, he’s not. Easy mistake to make,” Wei Wuxian assured him. “Lots of people think that, what with me knowing the Lan sect rules backwards and forwards and upside down – mostly so that I can haggle my punishments down when I break them, that's how I learn them best – but actually I’m Wei Changze’s son.”

Jiang Cheng’s face was red. “But…my dad said…”

“He helped,” Wei Wuxian conceded, tapping his nose meaningfully. “That’s why I’m so pretty! But Wei Changze was the one that wanted me, Wei Changze’s the one who gave me his surname; it’s his grave I sweep during Qingming. If you like, you can think of me as having been adopted into the Wei family; that’s common enough, isn’t it?”

“I guess so,” Jiang Cheng said, blinking. And then he said, sounding doubtful, “Do you really know all those rules?”

“All of them! You have no idea how much trouble you can make with a good set of rules.” Wei Wuxian grinned. “Want to see?”

“I – can we?”

“No,” Nie Mingjue said, stepping into the room. He looked tired, as always, but Wei Wuxian thought that there was never a time when he didn’t, certainly ever since he became sect leader too early. Lan Xichen was always worrying about him, and Lan Qiren, too, and since they were worried, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji had figured they might as well get in on the action. “Not in the Unclean Realm you can’t. Save it for the Lotus Pier, since the Cloud Recesses are too wise to you now.”

“No one is truly wise to my wicked ways,” Wei Wuxian boasted, and Nie Huaisang poked his head out from behind Nie Mingjue’s back and waved – he’d been dragged away to saber training, leaving Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng to try to make friends without him. Without Lan Wangji, too, which was even more unfair; how was Wei Wuxian supposed to represent the gentle snow and wild wind without his other half?

Stupid seclusion. Wei Wuxian was with his uncle in disliking it even when it was necessary.

Though Jiang Cheng was kind of cool…

“This is,” Lan Qiren informed Cangse Sanren’s memorial tablet, “entirely your fault.”

Despite her son’s newfound demonic cultivation skills – or his taste for revenge: he had taken the burning of the Cloud Recesses very personally, and the attack on the Lotus Pier, and so on his best friend Jiang Cheng, very nearly as badly, and that, somehow, had inspired him in new and even more uncontrolled ways – there was no response from the grave.

And yet, somehow, Lan Qiren suspected that he could hear her laughing at him.

#mdzs #lan qiren #cangse sanren #wei changze #sect leader nie #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #my fic #my fics

502 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Beautifully Spent

aka Five Times Lan Qiren Left The Lan Sect Behind

- Chapter 3 -

“No classes for the remainder of the day today,” the teacher said, and everyone, most of them already long ago having started to drift off in the hazy afternoon, sending longing looks towards the windows, turned to look at him, surprised. Even Lan Wangji couldn’t help himself – not that he’d been looking away, of course.

(He’d been not-looking at Wei Wuxian.)

Their teacher smiled indulgently. “A special treat for today, in anticipation of the special treat you will all be receiving tomorrow.”

“A treat?” Nie Huaisang asked, sitting up straighter. “What treat?”

“The sect leader’s brother has returned for a visit –”

“Teacher Lan?” Jiang Cheng exclaimed, looking irrepressibly excited, and abruptly the entire room burst out into a flurry of speech. It was only that they had all met him or heard of him, in his years of wandering through the cultivation world – the teacher of whom it was said that he could teach anyone, turn even the most dissolute waste into a proper and upright gentleman, deserving of respect. It seemed as if everyone had an anecdote to share: some visit they’d heard of, some trick or talent, an opportunity to hear him play…

Lan Wangji maintained his composure through an effort of will. No matter how much he might want to leap to his feet and rush out the door, going to find his uncle at once, there would be no point: his uncle was a stickler for decorum, and he would first pay his respects to his brother, Lan Wangji’s father, and then to the memorial hall. Only in the evening would Lan Wangji have a chance to see him and speak to him, and even then there would be a limited amount of time before they all had to go to bed…

Lan Wangji found himself rising to his feet despite himself.

“Hey, hey, Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, bouncing over to him and grabbing at him, tugging on his sleeves as if to get his attention. His hands felt hot as a brand, and Lan Wangji could only be relieved at the protective layers of clothing that separated them. He felt his ears go a bit hot regardless, undoubtedly affected by Wei Wuxian’s unnecessary spreading of warmth. “Teacher Lan, he’s your uncle, right? You must have met him lots of times – you must have the best stories – tell us some!”

Lan Wangji leveled his best glare at him. It was a good glare, one that the junior disciples found quite frightening and made guest disciples avoid him.

Well. Most guest disciples.

“Noisy,” he said, disapproving, but Wei Wuxian was undeterred.

“Teacher Lan says that I learn best through action,” he boasted. “Quiet contemplation is wasted on those with too much energy; it’s necessary to excise the energy first, and to channel it, and so for people like me, it’s best to confront things directly, to see things with my own eyes and confront me with puzzles to challenge me!”

That seemed like a remedy his uncle would have prescribed. Lan Wangji could imagine the slightly-amused, mostly-long-suffering his uncle’s eyes would have had when he had recited it, undoubtedly in the same monotone he always used which for some reason seemed to irritate other adults so much.

“It was amazing!” Wei Wuxian continued. “I got to go on night-hunts two years early, thanks to him!”

“He also said that you needed to be smacked on a regular basis lest you get too full of yourself,” Jiang Cheng interjected, and that also sounded very much like something Lan Wangji’s uncle might have said. “Also, remember when you called him a boring old stick in the mud?”

“Argh, Jiang Cheng! Don’t mention that, you’ll embarrass me in front of Lan Zhan –”

Lan Wangji belatedly realized that Wei Wuxian was still holding his arm and felt his ears go from slightly hot to very hot, feeling somewhat attacked even though he knew it wasn’t something Wei Wuxian was intentionally or maliciously doing towards him. He shook Wei Wuxian off and slipped out the door.

He had to talk to his uncle right away.

His uncle, he thought, would know how to fix his current malady: the one where he thought about Wei Wuxian all the time, whether during the day or at night. The way his temperature rose, his heartbeat accelerated, how he couldn’t control his emotions or maintain his discipline the way he should…

His uncle would fix everything.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done it. He’d gone wandering through the world long ago, well before Lan Wangji was born – before Lan Xichen was born, even before their father ever met their mother. He’d been barely older than Lan Wangji was now, in fact; it had been far earlier than it should have been, in the normal course of things. There had been some dispute, though whether it was with Lan Wangji’s father or grandfather remained unknown; indeed, Lan Wangji didn’t know anything about it at all, only that his uncle had left without looking back.

He’d first been a traveling musician, but eventually he had developed a reputation as a teacher. It was said that at some point when he was staying as a guest in some small sect or another, he’d run into some disastrous good-for-nothing of a person, useless and bitter with it, and somehow managed to figure out how to help them cultivate properly – or was the first one he’d helped a beastly hellion who wouldn’t learn anything, and he’d taught them both their letters and how to study, turning them into a scholar?

It didn’t really matter which had come first. In the end, he’d gotten a reputation for himself as a valuable teacher in the same vein as some legendary marvel of an itinerant doctor, the sort that could only be hoped for but not invited, and a bit of an adventurer besides – it was said that he’d saved Lao Nie’s life through some unspecified circumstance, averted Cangse Sanren’s doomed fate through happenstance, helped repair Jiang Fengmian’s broken marriage, and was even rumored to have had a brief personal liaison with the terrifying Sect Leader Wen…

Not that Lan Wangji listened to such things, of course. Talking behind other people’s backs is forbidden…although naturally, as the head of the discipline hall, he had more reason than most to need to know about all the wildest things people were saying.

At any rate, it was all beside the point. Lan Wangji’s uncle had gone out, made a reputation for himself, and then, just when he might have been tempted away for good somewhere else, had come home and won back his place in the Lan sect from his brother. Indeed, Lan Wangji’s father had reason to thank him more than most – it had been upon hearing what had happened with Lan Wangji’s mother, all those years ago when his parents had first gotten married, that Lan Wangji’s uncle had returned. Perhaps it was his years out on the road that had given him the strength and boldness to reject the solution the elders had devised, to castigate them all viciously and demand a better result – it wasn’t really clear.

What was clear, though, was that no one knew the Lan sect rules better than Uncle Qiren, and he’d developed a temper at some point during his travels outside; he’d attacked the whole arrangement from start to end, insisting that they come up with some other way to balance love and justice, protection of the person and protection of the sect’s face. Lan Wangji’s mother to this day swore that if she’d actually been locked up in a little house for the rest of her life, she’d have been long ago died of sheer boredom.

Of course, now that she was a little older, she tended to stay at her Gentian House most of the day regardless, disdaining the outdoors. But her home there was a place with windows open and people coming and going at all hours – it was a place of joy and happiness, laughter and light. Lan Wangji’s father tended to go there when he was starting to revert back to how he’d been before, those not-so-good days when Lan Wangji was young, and he always vastly improved after getting a tongue-lashing or two.

Lan Wangji wasn’t sure how many of the stories about his uncle were true and how many were rampant exaggeration – his uncle claimed the latter, but his mother insisted on the former, and his father, who rarely spoke without careful contemplation, eventually opined that it was somewhere in the middle.

In fairness, Lan Wangji didn’t much care, either. He had long ago taken his uncle as his role model, trying to fashion himself to be just like him whether in righteousness or rule-abidingness or even in musical talent. He was sure, deep in the depths of his soul, that his uncle could solve just about anything he put his mind to.

And yet he was sure, sure, that his uncle could never have encountered a problem like Wei Wuxian.

“Wei Wuxian?” his uncle said, blinking and rubbing his eyes – he’d stepped out of the memorial hall just now as a result of Lan Wangji’s urgency. “Oh, yes. I remember him. Bright boy. I thought you’d like him.”

Lan Wangji shook his head resolutely. How could he like someone like that?

Someone who made him feel…the way he did?

“Explain further.”

Lan Wangji did his best.

Irritatingly, about three-quarters of the way into his stumbling description, his uncle began to smile, his eyes curving just a little, and eventually to chuckle quietly.

Lan Wangji stopped, frowning – his uncle rarely smiled, and even more rarely laughed.

“No, no,” his uncle said. “Forgive me. It is a serious matter.”

Lan Wangji knew it!

“I will spend some time carefully observing Wei-gongzi,” his uncle continued, and Lan Wangji frowned again, suddenly anxious. “I promise, I will not let anything escape my gaze.”

Lan Wangji’s anxiety spiked even further: his uncle was quite strict regarding the rules in the Cloud Recesses, and Wei Wuxian had already broken so many – he would undoubtedly be found out, and punished. It was no more than Wei Wuxian deserved, really, and yet – at the same time….

He cleared his throat. “Uncle, are you sure that’s necessary?”

“Oh yes,” his uncle said. “I must make sure he’s acceptable if he’s to be my in-law, isn’t he?”

Lan Wangji stared.

“You’re my beloved nephew,” his uncle said. “Naturally I must make sure that anyone you like is up to standard –”

“Uncle!” Lan Wangji cried out, feeling deeply betrayed. Possibly by himself.

His uncle shook his head. “Forgive me, Wangji. I will stop. But that is the explanation for your symptoms. I have observed similar things many times.”

Lan Wangji sat down, distressed. It hadn’t even occurred to him, although knowing his parents as he did meant that he was very familiar with the notion that love was not necessarily an enjoyable feeling, and perhaps especially not when you were first afflicted by it. “But…what do I do about it?”

His uncle touched his shoulder lightly, offering comfort. “Having emotions is a good thing, Wangji; it connects you to the rest of the world,” he said. “Understanding them, and knowing what action to take, is a matter of experience, for logic is of limited use in interpreting the heart.”

Lan Wangji nodded. “You will help, then?”

“…I will do my best,” his uncle said. “I may need to consult on the matter from those that understand certain aspects of these sorts of things a little better than I. But I promise, you will not have to face it alone.”

Lan Wangji nodded yet again, deeply relieved.

They would figure it out.

They would fix it.

His uncle would help.

#mdzs #lan qiren #lan wangji #wei wuxian #wangxian #my fic #my fics #beautifully spent

159 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 10 - ao3 -

Lan Qiren was only made aware that Wen Ruohan had fixed things when he realized that two weeks had gone by without anyone saying anything about him personally and had, out of a sense of morbid curiosity, asked one of his teachers about it.

“Oh, didn’t you hear?” his teacher asked, nose deep in one of the musical scores they’d put together for the array project, hunting for the flaws. “The sworn brother business was just part of one of his schemes to gain additional power amongst the Great Sects.”

Having been involved in it, Lan Qiren wasn’t so sure about that. “What do you mean, honored teacher?”

“He’s been finding ways to form new ties with all the Great Sects, not just ours,” his teacher explained. “It’s all come out; some very clever people figured it out. There’s a new trade agreement with the Jiang sect that both sides were keeping hushed up, something going on with the head of the Nie sect that the Nie sect disciples are being especially close-mouthed about, and, of course, his new connection with the Jin sect…it’s really not that surprising that he decided to find a way into our Lan sect by trickery.”

His teacher said it casually, as if of course Lan Qiren's sworn brotherhood had been formed by a slightly underhanded maneuver rather than torture or rape or anything like that, and while of course that was in fact true, Lan Qiren was stunned by the fact that what passed for common knowledge in the cultivation world had been flipped on its head in such a short time.

Truly, Wen Ruohan’s cunning was boundless. It was a little frightening.

“Say,” his teacher added. “As his sworn brother, you’ll be attending the wedding, won’t you? You should bring back some stories!”

Lan Qiren stared blankly. “…what wedding?”

It turned out that Wen Ruohan’s new connection with the Jin sect was through a marriage. The bride wasn't surnamed Jin, that would be too much for most people to tolerate without some sort of excuse; she was instead from a powerful subsidiary sect that swore allegiance to the Wen sect, in keeping with Wen Ruohan’s preference for his own people above anyone else, but her mother was a branch cousin of the Jin sect and everyone said that it was obviously meant as a way to bind the sects together. They said Wen Ruohan had spoken openly of his desire for sons – as usual, no one mentioned the names of those of his descendants already in his sect’s memorial hall – and that there were high hopes associated with the union on both sides. The Jin sect was said to be already parading around the marriage as their newest political victory, trying to use the connection to their best advantage.

“How long has this been planned, do you think?” Lan Qiren asked Lan Yueheng, mostly out of lack of other people to ask; unsurprisingly, Lan Yueheng shrugged.

“It’s an engagement,” he said disinterestedly. “My cousin says the negotiations for an engagement can be as long or as short as everyone wants it. But surely no one would make a lifetime decision like that lightly? Not to mention an alliance between sects, however implicit. It must have been planned a long time ago.”

Lan Qiren wasn’t so sure. There was always the ambiguous situation between Wen Ruohan and Lao Nie to consider, and given the way Lao Nie had spoken during his visit, it sounded as if he had encouraged Wen Ruohan to come up with some clever way out of the situation, rather than suggesting that one already existed.

Moreover, he wasn’t sure that Wen Ruohan considered a marriage to be a lifetime decision. Hadn’t he been married before, had sons before? It was only that they had all died…

“Lan-er-gongzi!” A runner came up to him, saluting. “The Sect Leader asks that you report to the hanshi at once.”

“That’s probably your invitation,” Lan Yueheng said, sounding mildly disapproving – undoubtedly he thought weddings were a waste of time compared with doing experiments. Taking inspiration from his work with Lan Qiren in merging math and music, he’d recently expanded his interests from mathematics to alchemy, and Lan Qiren grimly foresaw many exploding furnaces in the Lan sect’s immediate future. At least they had some out-of-the-way places for him to work, or else there'd also be a lot of punishments for violating the rules about too much noise in Lan Yueheng's personal future. “It’ll probably make you miss the first week of this season’s classes, too…well, try not to be too bored.”

Sadly, Lan Qiren did not think being bored would be an option.

Sure enough, when he arrived at the hanshi where his father and brother were waiting alongside several sect elders, the subject of discussion was the invitation he had received to attend the wedding.

“As Sect Leader Wen’s sworn brother, naturally you must attend,” his brother told him. “We will also be sending a delegation from the Lan sect to attend on our behalf officially, but your position is different. You must be careful not to offend anyone.”

Lan Qiren saluted. “I will do my best.”

“Sect Leader Wen will not be kind if you lose face for him, especially at his wedding, even if it is inadvertent - or even if what you do is perfectly correct by our standards,” one of the other elders, one of the older teachers, the well-respected if sleepy one, said. He sounded concerned on Lan Qiren's behalf, which Lan Qiren appreciated. “You must especially take care not to offend his new bride. Even where the marriage is made for the purpose of power and there is no expectation of love, a man does not like to have disturbances in his back courtyard.”

“Especially if the stories are true and Sect Leader Wen hopes for sons,” the teacher in swordsmanship responded, his voice a little acidic. He was still unhappy with Lan Qiren over what had happened during their visit to the Nightless City; Lan Qiren did his best to avoid him whenever possible. “I doubt Sect Leader Wen will persist in trying to raise one of our children once he has one of his own.”

That explained the sour expressions on the faces of his brother and some of the elders, Lan Qiren thought. They had hoped to use him to manipulate Wen Ruohan, though the exact method of how they would have done so escaped him no matter how he analyzed the words he had overheard that night in the hanshi, and Wen Ruohan had neatly evaded their snare with a countermove of his own – as with weiqi, so with politics, he assumed. A disappointment, as always.

“A brotherhood is for life,” Lan Qiren’s father said, voice distant as always, neutral as always. “There are ten months at minimum before any son is born, and all the years after; even if Sect Leader Wen forgets about his obligations, that does not mean that we must. There will be other opportunities.”

“Provided Qiren does not provide grounds for Sect Leader Wen to abjure the relationship,” his brother interjected.

“I will try my best not to do so,” Lan Qiren said again, stiff as always, though he suspected his brother was simply stating a fact rather than casting doubt on him. “When should I prepare myself to depart?”

“The delegation leaves tomorrow morning,” his brother said. “You will need to give a personal gift to your sworn brother in addition to the sect’s gift. I have selected several options; come with me to pick the one you prefer.”

Lan Qiren saluted the elders and wordlessly followed his brother to the treasury. He liked none of the gifts his brother had selected, thinking that they all seemed a bit too gaudy even for a recipient whose tastes tended toward the luxurious – a bit more Lanling Jin than Qishan Wen, and not at all something he would select for himself – but eventually he chose a heavy golden crown that seemed to be not too far from the ones that he’d seen Wen Ruohan wear in the past.

“Not the dagger?” his brother asked, his voice thick with irony that Lan Qiren did not understand, nodding towards another of the options, a golden-hilt blade so purely polished that one could see their reflection in it.

“Sect Leader Wen has a rich collection which we cannot hope to match,” Lan Qiren said, thinking of those peerless treasure swords rusting away as wall decorations in Wen Ruohan’s bedroom. “Moreover, it’s a wedding, which represents two parts joining together into a single whole, while a gift of a knife implies severing. It is therefore inappropriate for such an occasion.”

“Brothers who have shared blood cannot be separated. It is a suitable gift from a sworn brother.”

Lan Qiren looked down at the options, feeling a little helpless. “If you would like me to change my selection…”

“The guan is fine,” his brother said, and shook his head, seeming almost a little pitying. “You are very good to be concerned with your sworn brother’s feelings, no matter how your relationship came about. Too much goodness can be seen as weakness, you know.”

I thought I wasn’t supposed to be making trouble? Lan Qiren thought to himself. Still, since his brother did not seem inclined to elaborate, he handed the gift to one of the servants to be put into an appropriate box.

In actuality, he had already selected a personal gift of his own, shortly after he had first heard about the impending wedding – it had seemed reasonable that he would need to send a gift, even if he didn't expect to actually be invited, and it had not occurred to him that he would be allowed to utilize the sect treasury for such a thing. He’d gone to Caiyi Town and purchased a small set of drinking bowls, applying the glaze himself as the artisan spun the pots; they had gone into the kiln immediately thereafter, and he was expecting the delivery today – in fact, it was probably already waiting in his room.

He would pack the set up with his personal items and give it to Wen Ruohan anyway, he decided. After all, he’d opted to do the design in Wen sect red rather than Lan sect blue, rendering it useless for his own purposes, and it would be worse to simply throw it away or to let it sit and gather dust. Being frugal is a virtue, after all.

Of course, if he were truly being frugal, he would have told his brother that he did not need an additional gift and left the guan alone, but he didn’t want to reject his brother’s kindness, either, rare as it was. Better to just eat the loss of the funds and have Wen Ruohan think him a spendthrift…

“Sect Leader Wen will undoubtedly have you stay in the Sun Palace during your visit,” his brother said abruptly, and Lan Qiren looked at him: his brother wasn’t looking at him, but into the distance, and his fingers twitched at his side in an uncharacteristic display of nervousness. “As his sworn brother, it would be inappropriate for him to put you in the guest quarters, or to fail to allow you free mobility through the Nightless City.”

“That seems likely,” Lan Qiren agreed hesitantly, not sure why his brother was mentioning it.

“He is fortunate that you are not naturally observant,” his brother said. “Otherwise one might fear that you would use the opportunity to learn more about how the Wen sect works – its treasures, its secrets. Its plans for the future.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that,” Lan Qiren said quickly. “Have courtesy and integrity, after all. Even if I were to discover something incidentally, naturally I would be honor-bound not to share it without informing Sect Leader Wen that I had done so.”

His brother sighed, his fingers abruptly unclenching. “Of course you would. How could anyone doubt it…I don’t suppose you’ve ever given any thought to Do not forget the grace of your forefathers?”

“Of course I have. That’s one of the fundamental rules,” Lan Qiren said, now absolutely bewildered. “That we should live up to the expectations of our ancestors, both in our good conduct and discipline, and in supporting our sect so that our descendants may honor them equally.”

His brother shook his head. “Sometimes I really don’t understand you. You were tricked into an oath like a virgin maiden into a sweet-talker’s bed, weren't you?” he said. Lan Qiren really didn’t understand how his brother’s mind worked that he kept changing subjects like this. “I just wonder that you aren’t more resentful of the one that did it, the way anyone else would be. The way you act, you’d think Sect Leader Wen had done you a favor; you’re so considerate of him.”

Lan Qiren thought his brother might be being sarcastic, but he wasn’t very good at determining such things. “Even if the manner in which we became sworn brothers was unorthodox, the oaths have still been sworn,” he said, a little haltingly. “I cannot control his actions, only my own. Just because he might not be a good brother doesn’t mean I can’t be – isn’t that right?”

His brother glared at him. “If you have something to say, Qiren, you can say it directly.”

Lan Qiren was at an utter loss. “I – was?”

“Your teachers say that you’re brilliant,” his brother said, voice suddenly very cold. “I often wonder whether they’re not growing too old for their work.”

“I don’t –”

“Never mind. You’re dismissed.”

Lan Qiren saluted and returned to his quarters, puzzling over the conversation as he packed away his things for the trip. Was his brother trying to warn him against anyone encouraging him to act as a spy? Or was he trying to convince him to act as a spy himself? But if it was the latter, why wouldn’t he just say so? If it were truly necessary for some reason, for the good of the sect…

Was he supposed to volunteer?

But that would be truly breaking the oath of brotherhood – of which he still didn’t know the contents…

Lan Qiren supposed that, at least, was one thing he would be able to fix: very soon, he would be seeing his sworn brother again for the first time since they’d sworn their oaths.

Maybe he’d find a way to ask.

#mdzs #lan qiren #qingheng-jun #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls

108 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 11 - ao3 -

The Nightless City was somehow even more overwhelming than it had been the previous time.

Maybe it was the fact that Lan Qiren wasn’t distracted by having a secret rebellious streak that he now thoroughly regretted – he didn’t regret having played his own choice in song, of course, but simply thought gloomily to himself that maybe if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have ended up with Lao Nie and thus wouldn’t have caught Wen Ruohan’s attention, and wouldn’t be in the situation he was in now.

Maybe it was just that he was in the situation he was in now, and entering the Nightless City as Wen Ruohan’s sworn brother wasn’t anything at all like entering it as a young master of the Lan sect.

The first time he’d arrived, the servants had been much like any others, whether in his sect or otherwise – polite, appropriate, and nearly invisible, providing service while maintaining the dignity of their sect. Their only concern was to ensure that their guests were comfortable enough that they could report to their superiors that they had accomplished their work well, and no more. This time…

“Stop acting like the servants want to break open your bones to drink the marrow,” the teacher acting as the leader of the Lan sect’s delegation – his music teacher this time, luckily, rather than the teacher for swordsmanship – murmured in his ear. “They wouldn’t do that…unless they thought it would win them points with Sect Leader Wen.”

Lan Qiren had somehow forgotten that his music teacher had a bizarre sense of humor.

“I can’t help them curry favor,” he said, feeling a little helpless and clutching his last qiankun bag to his chest like a child – the others had been plucked clean the instant he’d set foot inside the Sun Palace, each one taken by a servant with hungry eyes, and he was seriously worried that he’d never see any of them again. He wouldn’t put it past Wen Ruohan to take advantage of a ‘mistake’ to force him to wear Wen sect robes to the ceremony or something crazy like that. “I don’t even think he actually likes me.”

“That may be true. But they don’t know that,” his teacher pointed out.

Lan Qiren didn’t know what to say about that.

Just as he didn’t know what to say when, invariably, he was asked to separate from the remainder of the Lan sect delegation: “I’m afraid you’ll have to part ways here,” the servant leading them interjected with a toothy smile. “Only members of the Wen clan are permitted in the family quarters – and Lan-er-gongzi, of course, as the Sect Leader’s sworn brother. I’m sure you understand.”

The quarters Lan Qiren was taken to were, to his relief, not the ones he had seen last time, although they were similarly massive and garishly over-decorated with treasures. He eyed the teapot sitting on the table, made of an extremely rare type of porcelain that probably cost more than his absurdly expensive formal clothing, and sighed at his foolishness in thinking he could prepare his own gift: his brother was surely right to pick something more formal and impersonal after all.

In fact, he didn’t know where the gifts he had brought had gone – they’d been in one of the bags that he hadn’t managed to retain…

He poked his head out of his room, wondering if he could find a servant to ask about it.

“Qiren!”

Lan Qiren spun around at once, shocked to see Lao Nie striding down the hallway, waving jauntily as if he had every right to be there in the familial quarters reserved for the Wen clan.

“Lao Nie,” he said blankly, automatically raising his hands in a salute, and then he caught sight of Wen Ruohan, gliding along in Lao Nie’s walk, stately and monstrous as always. He opened his mouth to greet him, his mouth starting to shape the words ‘Sect Leader Wen’, only he belatedly remembered in the last moment that that was wrong. Given their oath, he was supposed to call him – “…da-ge.”

His voice squeaked a little as he forced out the unusual appellation, and then he immediately regretted it. Yes, Wen Ruohan had suggested it last time, but he called his own brother xiongzhang; surely that would have been equally appropriate in these circumstances?

Unfortunately, before he could amend his error, Wen Ruohan was standing in front of him. “Very good,” he said, his red eyes boring into Lan Qiren’s own. “Well met - didi.”

Lan Qiren gulped, and averted his eyes.

Luckily, Lao Nie was right there.

“Are you supposed to be here?” Lan Qiren asked him. “The servant said that these quarters were reserved…”

He trailed off, realizing that it was stupid to rely on a servant when the master of the entire city was right there in front of him.

“I invited him,” Wen Ruohan said, looking amused. “I thought to have a nice dinner with friends.”

“You’ll join us, won’t you?” Lao Nie asked Lan Qiren, not even bothering to check with Wen Ruohan.

Lan Qiren checked for him, glancing over, but Wen Ruohan looked indulgent rather than annoyed that his date was developing a spare wheel – he continued down the hallway, not even bothering to wait for Lan Qiren to assent, leaving nothing for him to do but follow. By the time they reached the small garden that appeared to be their destination, the table in the pavilion was set for three as if it had always been the intention.

“I don’t mean to intrude,” Lan Qiren said, dithering a little. He was well aware that any time spent with Wen Ruohan was like walking over hot coals – tricky, and likely to be painful if he made a misstep. And especially with Lao Nie being there… “I’m not especially hungry –”

“You just had a long trip, you have to eat,” Lao Nie said briskly. “You’re too young not to need to replenish your energy right away.”

“Sit,” Wen Ruohan instructed, the pressure of his cultivation suddenly heavy on Lan Qiren’s shoulders.

Lan Qiren firmed up his feet, ignoring the pressure, and gracefully sat down, shaking his sleeves casually as if he didn’t feel anything. He had his pride, if nothing else.

When he looked up, Lao Nie was doing his best to hide a smile and Wen Ruohan wasn’t bothering trying to hide his own, which meant he hadn’t pulled off nonchalant as well as he’d hoped.

“I trust your journey here was pleasant?” Wen Ruohan said, gesturing for Lan Qiren to serve the tea.

“It was fine.”

There was a bit of silence while Lan Qiren prepared the tea.

Feeling uneasy, and possibly like it was his turn to speak, Lan Qiren coughed. “Congratulations and best wishes on your marriage.”

Wen Ruohan nodded, gracefully accepting the well-wishes.

Lao Nie rolled his eyes at them both, clearly unimpressed with their pathetic attempts at small talk. “Excited for the wedding, Qiren?” he asked. “They’re a bit more boisterous at the Nightless City than in the Cloud Recesses – it’ll be an interesting experience for you.”

Lan Qiren had to admit that he was looking forward to that part of it. Ever since the match had been announced, some of the other disciples had been speculating as to what would be involved; there hadn’t been a major wedding for the leader of a Great Sect in their lifetimes, and everyone had expected Sect Leader Jin to be the first instead…

“Will it?” Wen Ruohan asked Lao Nie. “I was under the impression that he disliked loud noises, and crowds.”

“He does, but it’s something he needs to get over if he’s going to be a traveling musician,” Lao Nie said. “Also, why are you asking me? He’s right here. Ask him!”

Wen Ruohan glanced at Lan Qiren, who ducked his head and fiddled with his fingers. He wasn’t sure he wanted to answer questions for Wen Ruohan. It was easier, he supposed, with Lao Nie present to help grease the wheels of their conversation, but at the same time…

“Oh, really now,” Lao Nie said, sighing gustily. “This is a disgrace. You two have to get to know each other better already. You’re sworn brothers!”

“Do we?” Lan Qiren asked, uncertain, stealing a glimpse at the thoughtful-looking Wen Ruohan even as he offered Lao Nie a teacup. “I don’t – really know what sworn brothers do.”

“Oh, well, you know, it’s not that different from regular brothers,” Lao Nie said absent-mindedly, reaching over to take the cup, and then he abruptly blanched. “Uh, I mean…I didn’t mean it that way.”

Lan Qiren blinked. “In what way?”

“I mean…that is…” Lao Nie grimaced, glanced at Wen Ruohan – who was looking at him with an expression that suggested he had no intention of helping – and then back at Lan Qiren. “Ah, I’m sticking my nose in where it’s not wanted again.” Observing Lan Qiren’s bewildered expression, he coughed. “All I meant was…well. You’re not close with your brother, right? Your biological brother, that is.”

Lan Qiren considered the question. “Well, no,” he said. “But he’s the sect heir; he has too many responsibilities to be close to anyone.”

Lao Nie now looked even more awkward. He’d been a sect heir, too, so Lan Qiren wasn’t sure what the issue was – of course, Lao Nie was the sort of people who prioritized friendships, and even as sect leader he tended to insist on being close to people; there was a reason everyone called him Lao Nie. He might not understand.

(Wen Ruohan’s eyebrows had gone up for some reason. He’d also stopped smiling, and was even lightly frowning; perhaps he didn’t like to see Lao Nie discomforted in such a manner.)

“Ah,” Lao Nie said, his voice a little strangled. “That is. Your brother said…I hadn’t…I was under the impression you weren’t on good terms with each other.”

“Oh,” Lan Qiren said, relieved to finally understand what the normally quite straightforward Lao Nie was trying to say. “You mean the fact that he doesn’t like me?”

Lao Nie turned his eyes briefly towards the heavens. “…I suppose I do. I’d assumed it was a bit more – I mean, do you like him?”

“Of course I do. He’s my elder brother.” Lao Nie had started rubbing at the space between his brows as if he’d developed a spontaneous stress headache, and Wen Ruohan was frowning in earnest now. It was the first time Lan Qiren had seen that sort of expression on the older sect leader’s face; he was normally very smooth and pleasant in his expressions, even when he was being frightening. Sometimes especially when he was being frightening. “He’s smart and talented and he does lots of great things for the sect –”

“I didn’t mean as a sect matter,” Lao Nie interrupted. Now he just looked pained. “Do you like him as a person?”

“He’s my brother,” Lan Qiren said, but he felt the prickly, stabbing feeling of guilt that he always did when he skirted the boundary of do not tell lies. “He’s the idol of half the sect or more. I ought to like him best of all.”

Ought to was not did, and he knew it. He really did idolize his older brother, who was dashing and a fine cultivator and good with handling people, with all the skills Lan Qiren had always secretly wished he had; it was only that sometimes…

“I try very hard not to let him down,” he added helplessly, not quite able to bring himself to say sometimes I think I don’t like him very much at all.

“It’s not a sin not to like someone who doesn’t like you,” Wen Ruohan said, a little abruptly. “No matter what you might have been taught. Why doesn’t the so-honorable Qingheng-jun like you, anyway?”

“I don’t live up to –”

“You may not be a martial cultivator, but your cultivation in music and the scholarly arts is excellent,” Lao Nie said, and now he was frowning, equally thoughtful. “Your sect has always valued the two equally, or at least it used to. In your preferred fields of expertise, you are little short of brilliant, and your brother is a perfect gentleman, learned in all the Six Arts; it’s impossible for him not to recognize that your talent there exceeds his own – yet he’s not the sort of person to dislike a person out of envy. That can’t be the reason.”

“There’s my personality, too,” Lan Qiren said, feeling his face go hot at the unexpected compliment. “I’m stiff and awkward and overly stern –”

“Your brother is as distant and cool as a gust of wind from the north,” Wen Ruohan said, and Lao Nie nodded. “When you’re not speaking, the impression is very similar. That seems improbable as well.”

“Siblings can irritate each other, especially with an age gap,” Lao Nie said, stroking his trimmed beard thoughtfully. Lan Qiren eyed it with a bit of jealousy, as always – Lao Nie seemed to decide whether or not to have one based on the season, and appeared equally distinguished either way – if only because a beard seemed like such a convenient physical tic, and one that no one ever seemed to question. Perhaps he ought to try to grow one. “It’d be one thing if it was a mutual dislike, but if it’s not, then surely there has to be more to it?”

Lan Qiren shrugged, ducking his head to look down at his teacup, feeling uncomfortable with the way they were staring at him. “Well, I mean, I did kill his mother. It’s natural for him not to like me.”

“…explain that,” Wen Ruohan ordered after a few moments of silence.

Lan Qiren looked up, frowning when he realized they were both staring at him as if he’d said something out of the ordinary. “Surely you know that our mother died?”

“Of an illness,” Lao Nie said. “When you were three.”

“Actually –”

“Not even three. How could it possibly have been your fault?”

“The illness was actually a recurrence of an infection that she incurred at the time I was born,” Lan Qiren explained. “Her health never recovered from having to bear another child so late in life.”

“And you think that’s your fault?!”

“It’s a fairly straightforward cause and effect,” Lan Qiren said, wondering why Lao Nie’s face was turning purple. “I don’t hold it against him or anything. It’s a perfectly reasonable reason to bear a grudge.”

“Hold it – bear a – and they just let you go on thinking that – !”

“At times, I question your taste in friends,” Wen Ruohan said to Lao Nie, and lifted his sleeve to drink the tea. “Well made, little Lan.”

Lan Qiren straightened a little in pride. Wen Ruohan’s cool indifference was a relief in comparison to Lao Nie’s bizarre explosion of seemingly misplaced emotionality, strange as the thought might be, and his comment also served as a very effective distraction: Lao Nie cocked his head to the side and gave him a look, saying, “You’re my friend, too, Hanhan.”

“Mm,” Wen Ruohan said. “As I said, I have questions…and I told you already, don’t call me that.”

“All right, all right…A-Han.”

“Nor that.”

“Han-er.”

“Sect Leader Nie…”

“Han-gege.”

Wen Ruohan grimaced in what might be genuine disgust, probably at the sickly sweet tone Lao Nie had adopted, and Lan Qiren tried to hide his sudden need to laugh behind a cough and his sleeve.

“If you teach my little Lan your bad habits, I will hurt you,” Wen Ruohan informed Lao Nie, who grinned as if he’d been complimented – crazy man that he was – and shook his head, his usual smirk curving his lips as he gave Lao Nie a look full of ambiguous meaning that Lan Qiren couldn’t even begin to fathom the meaning of. “Aren’t you forgetting your etiquette, Sect Leader Nie? I’m getting married in the morning; you ought to be toasting my good fortune.”

That set Lao Nie off, as anyone might have expected, and Lan Qiren breathed a sigh of relief that the subject had changed away from him.

He wondered briefly if Wen Ruohan had done it deliberately, and then dismissed the thought.

#mdzs #lan qiren #wen ruohan #sect leader nie #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls

112 notes · View notes

randomingoftherandomness · 3 years

Note

WKX saying 58 if you don’t mind❤️ Also thank you for all the lovely content you’ve given us so far~~

58) “Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.”

They’ve been at it for what feels like hours and yet, Zhou Zishu feels strangely bereft when Lao Wen isn’t kissing him, touching him, moving together with him like their bodies are these unyielding and unending shapes with no trace of thought other than the pleasure of the other.

This isn’t new and this is something they will be blessed to do many times more if they have any say in the matter, but still he wants more; he wants Lao Wen like a forest fire that consumes everything in its path, he wants him like the soft creaking of the eaves of a roof heavy with snowfall carrying the impending deluge of cold. He wants Lao Wen in every single way, in every single word.

There sits a soreness between his thighs that throbs and aches with the pained pleasure of being wrung dry. Sleep edges in the corners of his mind but he clings on to wakefulness, holding on to Lao Wen with sweat damp fingers that sweeps through patterns on heated skin.

He wants, oh. Lao Wen kisses the jut of his ankle as his hips move in a brutal thrust and pull of his cock in him, filling the room with the sounds of their bodies meeting in the unmistakable choir of flesh to flesh, moans choked and sobs hitching through rasping breaths. Zhou Zishu can feel the exhaustion taking root in the base of his spine as he desperately sucks in air into his lungs. They won’t be able to go any further beyond this point.

Lao Wen leans in. A graceless arch of his body that forces Zhou Zishu into a half-fold of his own. Dark curtains of hair falls around their faces and he grunts, voice breaking at the effort of keeping his thighs wrapped around Lao Wen’s waist when all he feels like giving into is the easy spread of his legs because all that he is, is Lao Wen’s for the taking.

It is also precisely at the moment that this thought enters his mind that Lao Wen kisses a bruising path up his jaw, lick a firestrip over his cheek as he chuckles. The hands hiking his thighs up release him and he bites off a curse when his shaking limbs are unable to hold themselves steady.

Another thicket of kisses trace his sweat damp brow, down his nose, before a tongue traces open the willing seam of his mouth.

Zhou Zishu shudders into the heated breath on his own as he unravels with a sigh.

Time spills like a slow moving current lazily hugging the shore. Lao Wen must have finished in him again because when he pulls out, Zhou Zishu has the briefest moment to whine at the dull ache of being bereft of his body again.

“Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting. I keep having to remind myself to move and stop staring,” Lao Wen says with a tired laugh, throwing his hair back over a shoulder to flop inelegantly down next to Zhou Zishu. He scoffs, throwing his body into the embrace that welcomes him.

They exchange slow and unhurried kisses. Fires banked and dusted to the edges of their desires for when the need rises again.

“You really are too beautiful, Ah Xu,” Lao Wen murmurs into the sweet slide of their mouths moving together. The words tickle at his heart and he smiles. Lao Wen can’t help but be at his most sincerest in moments like these.

“Well,” Zhou Zishu enunciates softly, reaching up to brush long dark hair back. “If I can be beautiful for just one person, I’m glad that it’s you.”

A gleam shines in the darks of Lao Wen’s eyes as he says it. The hands on his hips fold over his flesh tightly. “Don’t do that. Don’t say it like that.”

It’s an old refrain. One they will repeat again before their hairs even show the first signs of grey. But it is one they never tire of; this back and forth of self-depreciation and the loving insistence of good virtues. This was their little thing and it warms him to have it.

“Oh? And what are you going to do to make me stop?” Zhou Zishu teases, suddenly awake and eager again.

Taking it as the invitation it is, Lao Wen smiles.

[Send me a smut prompt number 🌶🍋]

#wenzhou #word of honor #spicy lemons #wen kexing #zhou zishu #yeah I wrote this on my lunch break so I do apologise for the... lack of vibes #gab writes stuff

39 notes · View notes