Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It takes a full day, longer than Mo Ran was expecting, for Chu Wanning’s stubbornness to give out. It comes when Xue Meng wants to spar with Chu Wanning, eager to face down the great zongshi he clearly admires, but the spar is dulled by Madam Wang keeping a careful eye over the scene. She doesn’t say it, but everyone can feel that her presence is not to make sure Chu Wanning doesn’t harm her son, but to ensure Chu Wanning does not harm himself. The embarrassment of being overseen like that causes him to agree to help repair the pavilion in order to heal faster without being watched over like a child. While secluded meditation would be fastest, physical movement without using his spiritual energy will also help his healing.

Chu Wanning is grumpy ascending the slopes again. He leads the way and doesn’t slow down for anyone. He carries the bag of food and a portable stove. Xue Meng accompanies them to avoid Mei Hanxue, carrying their bedding for them so they may stay the night at the pavilion. Mo Ran carries the shovels and saws and other miscellaneous tools that Chu Wanning requested.

Mo Ran and Xue Meng watch Chu Wanning, now properly clad in white, vanish through the trees. They quietly laugh together at the trail of ricecake monsters following him, each struggling to climb the steps while others go around and walk through the mud. They can’t laugh too hard lest Chu Wanning turn around and scold them again. Instead, they’re forced to snicker with their hands over their mouths, struggling to bite back laughs as Chu Wanning remerges into sight and a ricecake monster is running after him as fast as its little legs will carry it in an attempt to grab ahold of the hem of his robes.

“Do you think he notices?” Xue Meng asks in a whisper.

“No,” Mo Ran whispers back and swallows back a laugh at the little ricecake monster almost grabbing his robes only to have it slip from its grasp. “He’d turn around and pick it up if he knew. He’s basically one of them. He just needs a little leaf hat.”

Xue Meng snorts loudly, breaking their silent snickers. Chu Wanning spins around. The force of his robes breathing under the momentum of his spin causes the poor little ricecake monster to fall and bounce down two steps.

Chu Wanning glowers down at them and demands, “What are you two laughing at?”

“Nothing” Xue Meng says. At the same time Mo Ran pipes up “You’re leading a ricecake parade.”

Chu Wanning finally notices the line of little white monsters. His expression softens and even bends over to pick up the fallen one rolling around on its back. The moment the one is in his hands, more and more waddle up to tug at his robes wanting carried too. Enough surround him that he can’t even take a step without risking kicking one. He’s trapped as Mo Ran and Xue Meng catch up.

“You’re a cute ricecake monster” Mo Ran says as he passes him, reaching out to brush his hand against Chu Wanning’s arm with a dimpled grin. He really wants to pinch his cheek but resists. Xue Meng is a little more helpful. Used to the little monsters, he shoos them away so Chu Wanning can keep walking, although a few manage to cling on and ride in his robes.

They reach the top and spread their supplies. Chu Wanning and Xue Meng take the lead on fixing the pavilion itself. They quickly climb onto the roof to inspect the leaky tiles. Their light feet keep them from breaking any more. Mo Ran, untrained in qigong, keeps his heavy feet on the ground to avoid causing more damage. He instead picks up a shovel and begins to dig. He’s going to dig a beautiful pond lined with big, scenic rocks and maybe even a small dock for Chu Wanning to sit on. Maybe watch ducks from if they decide to arrive. Mo Ran starts making up a whole story about two mandarin ducks moving in and he and Chu Wanning feeding them produce from the garden together.

Despite the cool air, Mo Ran grows warm by the time he’s dug a hole as long and deep as himself. He peels back his layers one by one as the hole expands.

By the time he climbs out of the pond-to-be to begin cooking lunch, he’s stripped down to just his pants. He’s pulled his hair up into a bun to keep off his neck and back. He sweats just enough that his hair would stick to his shoulders to make him uncomfortable.

From up on the roof Chu Wanning stares down at him inspecting the early stages of a pond he’s dug all by himself. Mo Ran stretches out his arms in display of his hole. He calls out to Chu Wanning “What’d you think?”

“Oh shit!” Mo Ran shouts and throws aside his shovel to run. As if working against him, the tile under Chu Wanning’s foot has broken, sending him slipping down the steepest pitch of the roof. He scrambles, his hands frantically grabbing the smooth tiles in search of purchase. On the other side of the roof Xue Meng shouts too.

Mo Ran is under Chu Wanning and ready to catch him. The man doesn’t let him. He pushes off the roof and leaps over Mo Ran with the elegance of a white hart soaring through the foliage. He bounces off of two heavy tree trunks and lands lightly as if he were taking a shortcut instead of falling.

Cheeks pink, he marches past Mo Ran saying, “What are you standing there for. I’m just inspecting your work.”

“Right. Course. Let me show you around the hole,” Mo Ran says playing along while Xue Meng clambers down from the roof.

“This is the deepest part so far. It's deeper than me. Than I am tall,” Mo Ran says leading Chu Wanning into the fresh earth. “I'm gonna make it deeper. And over there it loops so there can be a peninsula to plant flowers. And that part is going to be a gentle slope so you can walk out to your red lotuses easily. Oh, Xue Meng, that's the deep end to cannonball off of.”

“This is great!” Xue Meng says jumping off the edge of the deepest part in a backflip. 

Mo Ran beams and turns back to Chu Wanning. “So, is it good enough?” 

Chu Wanning looks around the hole-in-progress.

“It's adequate.”

The mild praise is like the first sip of water on a hot day. It both sates a deep, needy part of him while also making him realize how thirsty he is. What he’d give to drown in Chu Wanning’s praise he doesn’t know. There’s no end to what he’d give, even his own heart.

Mo Ran makes lunch. All three eat together. Xue Meng and Mo Ran start wrestling for the last pastry packed in the basket of four, arguing over who gets it but by the time Xue Meng has won the pastry is mysteriously gone. Mo Ran laughs and cackles as Xue Meng looks around helplessly for his prize.

“You must have miscounted,” Chu Wanning says flatly as Xue Meng scratches his head. Mo Ran has to fight back a laugh as Xue Meng mournfully agrees. He meets Chu Wanning’s eye and recognizes the sparkle of someone who just had two desserts. 

After lunch Xue Meng returns to the main halls of the sect while Mo Ran and Chu Wanning remain on the peak. They work together digging the pond for a while. Mo Ran doesn’t fail to notice Chu Wanning keeping a close eye on him. It takes him a while to realize that he’s probably looking at the red scars over his chest from the fight. He doesn’t think Chu Wanning is judging his digging skills.

It starts to rain again. The shift is abrupt. From vaguely overcast to a total downpour in the matter of minutes. Mo Ran and Chu Wanning abandon their shovels in the mud and run to the shelter of the pavilion.

“Well,” Mo Ran says staring out at the river falling from the sky. “I guess we’re working in here then.”

Chu Wanning stares out at where Mo Ran’s clothes were discarded as he worked. The dark blue has turned black in the rain. “There’s still plenty to do.”

“Yep. But we’re all muddy. Did you bring extra clothes?”

“...No.”

“Hm” Mo Ran hums. He did bring a change of clothes for himself since he knew he’d be digging in the dirt and he’s debating the merits of letting Chu Wanning wear his clothes while they work. He stands before Chu Wanning, evaluating the mud on his white robes. Chu Wanning stands his ground against Mo Ran’s shirtless approach. Without warning, Mo Ran reaches out to tug at Chu Wanning’s collar with one finger saying “You’ll need to loosen these” just like Chu Wanning did to him that first night together.

Chu Wanning grabs his collar like a scandalized woman. Mo Ran is lucky that he isn’t smacked with the angry hiss of “What the hell are you doing?”

“Telling you to take off your robes so I can wash them. I’d go first but I’ve already taken mine off.”

Chu Wanning turns pink and hisses “I can see that.”

“Come on. Or they’ll be muddy all night. I even brought extras that you can change into.”

Chu Wanning debates and slowly tugs off his muddy outer layers. Mo Ran watches with avid attention. The first time he saw Chu Wanning’s body it was a shock and cleared everything from his mind. Since then he’s caught a few more glimpses of his form. He’s helped dab sweat from Chu Wanning’s unconscious forehead and chest, even tugging back his robes just enough to notice a stretched white scar over his heart. He’s seen his long legs when they bathed in the hot springs together, watching them vanish beneath the water while imagining how they end. And he’s felt his body while sharing a bed, their bodies pressed together in the small space almost intimate but not quite. He’s rested his arm against Chu Wanning’s hip and felt his legs slide against Mo Ran’s own. He knows Chu Wanning’s body in pieces but he wants to know it in full.

Oh fuck, he really is obsessed with his husband.

He doesn’t dare blink as Chu Wanning undresses and trades his muddy robes for Mo Ran’s extra layers. Just a shirt and pants that he has to tie tightly only for them to still be too baggy and too long. The shirt hangs loose over his frame revealing the muscled chest beneath. Mo Ran tries not to stare. To avoid the glimpse of skin his eyes drip lower. He realizes that this is not the right choice as his imagination begins leaping wildly without thought or control.

Mo Ran clutches the laundry to his chest as he runs out to grab his own abandoned garments and then settles into a back room with a basin to wash out the mud and lay them out to dry. Only his pants he dries quickly so he can return to Chu Wanning. He’ll let the rest dry slow so Chu Wanning remains in the loose clothes unwittingly serving as eye candy for Mo Ran.

They start work on the perfectly fine steps that Chu Wanning has decided he carries a grudge against. Barely covered by the eves, Chu Wanning rips at the wood and tosses the boards out into the rain with a vengeance. Mo Ran sits and watches in amusement, sometimes helping him, sometimes watching where Mo Ran’s too big shirt falls open against Chu Wanning’s chest.

He really shouldn’t think about such things. If there’s one thing Chu Wanning has made clear, it’s that he has no interest in sleeping with Mo Ran. He probably doesn’t even like men. It’s only because of politics that he snatched Mo Ran up. Mo Ran would be a shameless dog to think of him like that.

…And yet….

Mo Ran can’t help but dig out a handkerchief to pass to Chu Wanning to dab the sweat and erroneous raindrops that have fallen on him.

They work rebuilding the step from the veranda into the house until late in the evening. Mo Ran lights lanterns that hang around them and bask them in a golden glow. Beyond the darkness frogs ribbit and croak. Chu Wanning expertly measures and cuts the wood making a mess on the porch. Every so often he summons Mo Ran over to apply his spiritual energy in liu of a hammer and nails holding the steps together. He stands behind Mo Ran watching him as he gets on his hands and knees to force the nails into hard wood.

Chu Wanning is still working when Mo Ran comes back out with their very late dinners. He manages to draw Chu Wanning away with the promise of reheated dumplings, pulling him around the veranda looping the pavilion so they can look out at the forest beyond while they eat under the golden lantern glow. Mo Ran sits happily at the edge of the porch, his feet dangling over into the darkness while Chu Wanning sits upright and cross legs while nibbling at his bun. Mo Ran’s takes big, happy chomps.

“Madam Wang said ten days of this,” Mo Ran says. “I could spend ten days here. I might finish the pond by then. Of course assuming the rain doesn't fill it in before it's done.”

“It's not going to rain that much.”

“I know. I know,” Mo Ran laughs. “It'd be funny if it did. We could go swimming. How much rain do you think it'd need to be filled? It's a pretty big hole. You could put a lot in that hole. And then it’d be all slippery for me getting in-”

“Enough talking about filling holes.”

Mo Ran kicks his feet into the darkness and leans against the railing to watch the rain beating against a bush. He takes another huge bite and happily chews.

He manages around thirty seconds of silence before he twists to face Chu Wanning and speaks again, this time telling Chu Wanning all about Veggiebun the cat.

Chu Wanning finishes eating first. He stands and brushes himself off, stretching his back like an elegant cat. Mo Ran watches him refill the oil in the lantern flickering a warm glow over the man. Mo Ran’s clothes are loose around him. The bottom hem of his pants drag on the ground. Mo Ran smiles to himself watching the way he has to kick out his toes to avoid tripping on the fabric. It’s cute. His husband is cute. He really, really likes him and could watch him waddle around all night.

Chu Wanning vanishes inside. Mo Ran remains sitting on the deck with his legs hanging over the edge. He rests his chin against the beam of the railing watching the illuminated drops of rain fall in the flickering lantern light. Beyond the drops is darkness. He sighs deeply. The day was nice. He likes being around Chu Wanning. But he can’t help but worry about his mom still at Rufeng Sect in her respite pavilion. He wonders if Nangong Yan has told her about what’s happening yet. Xue Zhengyong told him he wrote Nangong Yan inviting him and his family, specifically Duan Yihan, to come stay at Sisheng Peak while everything unfolds. Mo Ran knows he was concerned about inviting a member of the Nangong family to stay and it truly was a big favor for Mo Ran. But even so, he's worried about her without confirmation that she’s okay. He wants to know what she's doing. He wants her to be safe.

A weight settles over Mo Ran’s shoulders just as he's thinking he should go inside. A warm blanket that Xue Meng carried up for them this morning. It smells like Chu Wanning. It’s the one that he laid under for five days sleeping.

Chu Wanning sits down next to Mo Ran, his long legs dangling over the edge of the decking too. The pant legs extend beyond his toes into the darkness.

“Thanks,” Mo Ran says.

“Mn.” Chu Wanning hums. Mo Ran realizes his long hair is down now. He was probably getting ready to sleep and realized Mo Ran was still outside. He knows he was thinking for a long time.

They sit together, their breathing syncing into a joined breath in and out until Chu Wanning shivers ever so slightly. The mountain air is a different cold than that of Rufeng's. Its bite is sharper.

Mo Ran slides closer and pulls the blanket off his shoulders to drape over Chu Wanning’s lap. They're close enough that they're touching now, a connection from shoulder to thigh. Chu Wanning pulls the blanket so it covers Mo Ran too.

Mo Ran leans so his head rests against Chu Wanning’s shoulder.

To his surprise, Chu Wanning leans against him too. He closes his eyes, long, dark lashes kissing his cheeks and the faintest smile tugs at his lips, only proved there by the lines that form from his nose to the edges of his mouth. Suddenly Mo Ran feels like the chosen one of a highly hissy little white cat that’s never been pet before. He doesn't dare move lest Chu Wanning lean away or worse, retreat into the house. He lightly kicks his feet in the darkness below and watches the rain.

After a few minutes Mo Ran dares shift a little. He moves even closer under the pretense of adjusting their blanket to cover them both. In doing so, he wraps his hand around Chu Wanning’s waist to rest against his hip.

“Wanning,” Mo Ran whispers, his head leaned against Chu Wanning’s shoulder so he doesn’t need to see his face lest his bravery die. Chu Wanning may have made his intentions clear, but Mo Ran has not. His distress at their marriage overtook him and he said and did things he shouldn’t have. They don’t reflect what feelings he holds for Chu Wanning in his softening heart.

“Yes, Mo Ran?”

“I like you.”

Chu Wanning is quiet. He doesn’t pull away from Mo Ran. He doesn’t move a muscle. 

“I like you a lot and I’m glad you of all people married me.” Mo Ran smiles as he speaks. “I just needed to time to realize how kind and good and beautiful you are.” Chu Wanning inhales sharply.  Mo Ran presses on. “And I’m really happy to be your husband.”

At his side, Chu Wanning’s hands shift slightly, trembling like a leaf under the duress of a powerful wind. Thinking him cold, Mo Ran lays his free hand over Chu Wanning’s resting it against his thigh. In the warm lantern light they look soft together, resting on Mo Ran’s pants loosely wrapping Chu Wanning’s legs. He lightly rubs his thumb over Chu Wanning’s palm just to feel the smooth curve of his hand. It’s so different from the scars of bending knives still faintly marking Mo Ran’s. 

“Are you cold?” Mo Ran asks softly.

“No.”

Knowing him a liar, Mo Ran hums lightly. “I’ll keep you warm. Now and forever.”

A second later he asks, “Do you think that we’ll sit like this watching the rain years from now? Maybe we’ll get to come back and sit in this very spot watching it together someday.”

Mo Ran finally lifts his head from its resting point on Chu Wanning’s shoulder to look at him. He’s shocked to see what almost looks like distress upon Chu Wanning’s face. His expression is tight, his mouth pulled thin and down turned, his eyebrows pinched together with the inner corners curving upwards. His eyes are closed so he doesn’t see Mo Ran looking at him. It’s only because he thinks Mo Ran isn’t looking that such emotion even flickers across his usually pensive face. It’s beautiful in a heartbreaking way.

“Maybe” Chu Wanning quietly answers.

Fearfully, Mo Ran asks, “Would you like that?” He still studies Chu Wanning, wondering if the man really is that affected by being told he isn’t loathed for marrying him. It would be understandable to feel strong emotion to learn he isn't hated by someone who so loudly declared his disgust in him. 

“Yes.”

“Wanning,” Mo Ran says even softer than before. He gives Chu Wanning’s hand a small squeeze. Quickly Chu Wanning chills his expression and opens his eyes to look at Mo Ran who promises, “I want to be good to you. As good as you’ve been to me.”

Chu Wanning’s mouth opens in a loss for words. Mo Ran’s heart thuds loudly in his chest, racing against the strokes of his confession that he likes his husband. After a moment Chu Wanning joltedly says “I haven’t. Been good to you.”

“What?” Mo Ran asks in confusion. Chu Wanning has only been good to him. It was Mo Ran who was too thick headed to see it. Chu Wanning tries to pull away from Mo Ran but the hand around his waist traps him pressed against the bigger man. On instinct Mo Ran doesn’t let him go. A small, dark part of his mind says the last time he let Chu Wanning go, they both almost died. He wants him close. Now that Chu Wanning is his, he’ll never let him go.  “Don’t be a dummy. Of course you have. You’ve been the best to me.”

Very stiff, Chu Wanning says, “You… didn't deserve to be dragged into sect politics. You wanted a real marriage with someone you liked. Someone you can have kids with.”

Mo Ran squeezes his hand. “Even a political marriage is better than someone who only sees me as a furnace. Besides, I trust you. If you saw a reason for it, that's all the reason I need.”

Chu Wanning still looks miserable despite his attempt to maintain a stoic expression. It's hard to see, but Mo Ran is searching for understanding. He draws Chu Wanning’s trembling hand to his lips and repeats, “I like you, Wanning. And if you want a kiss, I'm happy to give it. And if you ever want more than a kiss, I'd like that too. I want to.”

Chu Wanning’s eyes widen slightly as he stares with determination into the darkness as though wishing it'd offer answers of how to interact with the husband he bought telling him he does actually love him despite everything. 

“Shameless,” Chu Wanning mutters under his breath. Mo Ran laughs lightly at his grappling for anything to say. 

“Maybe a little. For you.” He leans his head against Chu Wanning’s shoulder again. His fingers adjust in Chu Wanning’s hand so they're interlocked. Chu Wanning's closes around his making him smile at the returned touch. “But I needed you to know I want to. If you ever change your mind.”

“...about what?”

Mo Ran quirks his lips and leans in to whisper in Chu Wanning’s ear. “About this not being a ‘real marriage.’ And what exactly your cultivation path entails. Or rather, excludes. Like, say… intimacy.”

Chu Wanning’s ears turn bright pink as he finally understands the full extent to which Mo Ran speaks and his desires bid him to Chu Wanning. His fingers close around Mo Ran’s hand with enough force to crunch bone. It only eggs Mo Ran on.

He leans even closer so his breath tickles Chu Wanning’s cheek. “What? No shameless this time?” His hand traces over the entirety of Chu Wanning’s back to brush his long hair away from his face. Chu Wanning shivers when his touch passes over a mole hidden behind his ear. He still makes no retreat. If anything, the hand gripping Mo Ran’s tightly tugs them a little closer to his inner thigh.

“Wanning…” Mo Ran coos. “Husband… would you hate me if I kissed you again?”

His thin lips part the same as the first spring blossom unfurls its petals. Mo Ran longs to be the sun and the rain, the only thing to touch those lips and make them part fully into a smile and into a kiss. Chu Wanning closes his eyes again. There’s a soft pink hue to his cheeks, the blush of a maiden unsure what comes next.

“I won’t if you don’t want it,” Mo Ran assures. His thumb passes over his pink cheek in a delicate touch. They’re still so close. The entire lengths of their bodies from shoulder to thigh are pressed together. In the darkness below the decking, Mo Ran’s toes bump against Chu Wanning’s. His ankle hooks him just to hold in him one place more in this downpour of uncertainty. “Just like you did for me.”

“I-” Chu Wanning starts and stops. His eyes pinch shut as if bullying himself into speaking so plainly and he needs to hide from the golden lantern light. “Wouldn’t hate you.”

Mo Ran’s lips brush against his cheek as he whispers “But do you want to?”

Chu Wanning gives a tight nod as fireworks explode in Mo Ran’s chest.

Chu Wanning jumps when Mo Ran kisses him despite it not being the first time. After his initial surprise, he parts his lips for Mo Ran, tentatively kissing him back. It feels like the first real kiss, the only one that could ever matter. They could exchange energy, or they could not. It isn’t the point of the kiss. Only their pleasure is. They could break the kiss or keep kissing until the lantern oil burns out and they’re left on the porch in the dark, surrounded only by the continuous pounding of the rain.

Mo Ran’s hand slips under the loose shirt hiding Chu Wanning’s body, catching around his waist again but this time bare skin pinched between his fingers. Chu Wanning lets out a soft sound that Mo Ran swallows as he presses closer to Mo Ran with a desperate hunger not to let the kiss end when they rise for air. 

Chu Wanning melts into him. He’s pliant and soft in Mo Ran’s arms, caught somewhere between lazy kisses and desperate attempts to keep up with Mo Ran's own greedy inexperience. It makes Mo Ran feel feral inside, a dog who wants to bite and nip at Chu Wanning. A dragon that wants to wrap him in his claws and swallow him whole. It only grows stronger when Chu Wanning’s hands finally land on Mo Ran’s bare chest. He touches him and jerks back before resting his palm over the bare skin where Mo Ran’s heart beats in hot desire. Immediately Mo Ran’s hand is over his to keep it there. Only when Chu Wanning’s fingers curl against his skin does he release the hand to grab his hip and pull him over to straddle Mo Ran’s legs.

Chu Wanning gasps in surprise, finally breaking their prolonged kiss to grab at Mo Ran and land on in his knees against the wood. Under the lamp light his eyes glint in equal desire to that which burns in Mo Ran’s chest. Mo Ran smiles up at him. He grins up at him. 

“Wanning,” Mo Ran says happily. He strains his neck to extend upwards for another kiss. To his delight, Chu Wanning bends down to meet him, his long hair failing forward to curtain the pair of them. It tickles enough to make Mo Ran laugh against Chu Wanning’s lips, breaking away to nuzzle against him with a chuckle.

“What?” Chu Wanning asks indignantly. “Was that wrong?”

“No. No babe,” Mo Ran says still laughing. “Your hair tickles. Come here. Don’t stop just because I’m having a good time.”

Chu Wanning indignation fades. He smiles softly at Mo Ran and leans in again, this time cupping Mo Ran’s cheeks in his hands. He relaxes and sinks to sit on Mo Ran’s lap.

Instantly he gasps and jolts back to rise on his knees staring at Mo Ran with wide eyes. His cheeks have turned from pink to bright red in a mere second.

“That can’t be—”

It’s Mo Ran’s turn to blush.

“What did you expect? That I wouldn’t be turned on by you kissing me? I’m just a man, baobei.”

Somehow Chu Wanning turns even redder. His eyes dart downward to the narrow space between them and back to Mo Ran.

“It can’t be that- big,” Chu Wanning chokes out. Mo Ran tries to hold back his laugh at Chu Wanning’s shock but can’t, wrapping his arms around Chu Wanning and laughing openly. Chu Wanning squirms but it only makes him sink against Mo Ran’s lap again. He squeaks when Mo Ran groans loudly against the skin exposed by the fallen shoulder of the too loose robes.

All he wants to do is rip those robes off and throw them into the darkness and rain so Chu Wanning has nothing to wear at all. All he wants is to explore his body, feel each inch of him and possess him entirely. He knows that he smells like flowers and his mouth is sweet. He knows how he mews softly between kisses and is so eager he kisses until he loses his breath and needs to break away like a drowning man. He knows his soft hair tickles and his thighs are powerful supporting him. He can imagine how those thighs would hold his husband as he works himself on Mo Ran’s cock.

He wants to possess all of him. It’s an aggressive, consuming desire so counter to everything Mo Ran has ever felt about love. He always thought love was soft and pure, untouchable and untainted, not controlled by bodily needs and possessively consuming desire. Suddenly he feels everything he’s learned to fear someone else might feel towards him as a butterfly bone beauty. But it lacks the violence, the desire for blood and power. If anything, he wants to turn himself into a cauldron for Chu Wanning so he needn’t be rundown by an overburdened core. He wants to serve him, dote on him, devote himself to him like a mortal to a god. He wants Chu Wanning with all the love in his heart and the only problem is just how obscenely large his capacity for love is.

Mo Ran forces himself to clear his mind of those thoughts. Possessing all of Chu Wanning means all of him, not just that part of him. He wants all of Chu Wanning and that means his rare smile, his phoenix eyes catching the lantern light, his fingers against Mo Ran’s heart and his thin lips bitten red and slicked with spit. Possessing all of him means possessing what Chu Wanning will grant him in this moment, even if he would grant Chu Wanning all of himself here and now if Chu Wanning would only accept.

He drags soft kisses from Chu Wanning’s collarbone over his neck. He enjoys how the rise and fall of Chu Wanning’s chest picks up at the touch and a soft moan accompanies his head tilting back as Mo Ran brushes his tongue against his throat.

“I want you so, so bad, Wanning” he murmurs against that delicate skin. “But we don’t need to do anything like that if you’re not ready.” He kisses the corner of Chu Wanning’s lips and is delighted the kiss is returned. Between kisses he promises “This is enough. Just this. Just you.”

It would be enough if not for the fact that the longer they kiss and their hands wander over the newly discovered lines of each other’s bodies, the more Chu Wanning grows used to the idea of Mo Ran’s absolute unit separated from him by only a few layers of thin fabric. He grinds his hips against Mo Ran, rocking against him as the sounds of their over-zealous kisses are lost in the rain. 

Mo Ran feels himself growing mad under him, wishing he hadn’t uttered such words. He swears Chu Wanning is teasing him on purpose, rhythmically rubbing against him just to see how hard he can get before he loses control of his body. Mo Ran is embarrassingly close to becoming undone.

Chu Wanning is too by the way he presses himself against Mo Ran’s torso, his hips rolling in search of more friction closing the space between them. He doesn’t kiss Mo Ran anymore, instead his mouth parted and pressed against Mo Ran for him to explore. His dark eyes are closed and he digs his fingers into the bare skin of Mo Ran’s back. He’s lost in the vanishing space between them in search of the entirely new sensation that is pleasure.

Mo Ran is determined to seal the space separating them. He plants a sloppy kiss against Chu Wanning’s lips, missing at first before kissing true with a groaned praise that Chu Wanning is doing so good for him. The man parts his lips to let Mo Ran in with a heady moan at the praise. 

Mo Ran’s hand slips from under the shirt that has all but fallen open to reveal the slopes of Chu Wanning’s shoulders and chest to the waistband of his pants. Under his palm Chu Wanning’s stomach tenses, undulating under his touch with the roll of his hips. His fingers trace the line of fine hair extending from his bellybutton to the waistband of his oversized pants and slips below the soft fabric.

“Ahh” Chu Wanning groans when fingers wrap around his cock. He loses his rhythm and sinks onto Mo Ran’s lap with only disjointed ruts against his body. He buries his face against Mo Ran’s shoulder unable to keep going but unable to stop. With wobbly words he inhales,  “Mo Ran you don’t have to–ah ah” his words are lost in soft, desperate moans.

“Do you want me to stop?” Mo Ran asks. He doesn’t want to stop. He wants Chu Wanning to unravel in his hands and then press him into the blanket he so lovingly brought out to drape over Mo Ran’s shoulders and pursue his own pleasure with the space between Chu Wanning’s thighs. He swallows hard and forces those thoughts to remain lurking in the back of his mind. Whatever part of himself he’s unlocked he can’t let out tonight.

Chu Wanning shakes his head against Mo Ran’s shoulder not wanting him to stop his slow stroke. Mo Ran’s free arm pulls him even closer. He murmurs “Keep doing what you were doing, babe. That’s right. Just like that. Shit you feel so good. Just like you’re riding me. Again. Keep going, baobei. Keep fucking yourself on me.”

Chu Wanning rolls his hips again, grinding his ass against Mo Ran’s hips and unconsciously thrusting himself into Mo Ran’s hand. He’s lost his rhythm and instead only chases his pleasure under Mo Ran’s praise. It only takes a few strokes of Mo Ran’s palm for him to unravel against Mo Ran, inhaling sharply and jutting his hips erratically. He buries his face against Mo Ran’s shoulder and inhales deeply trying to catch his breath. He scrapes his teeth against Mo Ran’s shoulder as he tries to repress a drawn out moan of pure pleasure.

Mo Ran is so close to finishing under the weight of Chu Wanning’s body pressed against him. His hand grips Chu Wanning’s hip tightly and lightly guides him to keep rocking against him, just enough to feel all too good. Just as his hazy mind debating plunging into greed and chasing it now or letting the moment fade and pursuing his own pleasure by revisiting this moment in his mind later tonight after Chu Wanning’s gone to sleep, Chu Wanning quietly, doubtfully, says “Did you?”

“What?” Mo Ran replies lost in his imagination of Chu Wanning spread on the floor with his thighs parted.

“You’re still–” Chu Wanning says slightly adjusting where he rests against Mo Ran’s lap. His breath tickles Mo Ran’s shoulder. He almost laughs but knows this time Chu Wanning might truly recoil from being laughed at when his words sound so vulnerable. Chu Wanning asks, “Did you…too?”

Mo Ran wraps his arms around Chu Wanning. His back is damp. Mo Ran doesn’t know if it’s sweat or moisture from the rain. It doesn’t matter when Chu Wanning’s back is so muscled. He jokes, “Does it feel like I did?”

Chu Wanning shocks him. As if unsure what he feels pressed erect against his ass, he tentatively reaches a hand downwards to feel for himself.

“Oh fuck, Wanning” Mo Ran groans at the long fingers pressed against his cock. He throws his head back and raises his hips under Chu Wanning to grind against his hand. “Do that again.”

Chu Wanning doesn’t. He rises and rolls off Mo Ran whose hand limply falls out of Chu Wanning’s pants to slap against his own thigh, pearlescent white glistening between his fingers in the lantern light. Chu Wanning kneels tentatively next to Mo Ran. The excess fabric of Mo Ran’s clothes expel outwards around him, stretching into the darkness. His down hair hangs lightly around his shoulders, only a few strands caught in the passing breeze. He extends his long fingers to pull at the ties of Mo Ran’s waistband. 

The way he tugs at Mo Ran’s pants back is as though he’s unboxing a holy weapon from the Gouchen Exalted himself: full of reverence and fear at the weapon gifted upon him. Unsure how exactly to wield it yet eager. All while still in disbelief at its very existance in his presence. Mo Ran almost wants to tell Chu Wanning to name his cock at first sight.

“I- I just take it?” Chu Wanning asks dubiously, staring down at Mo Ran’s cock sprung free. He’s doubtful of its size.

“You don’t have to take anything tonight,” Mo Ran assures him. He smiles to himself at the name his cock would not have if it were a holy weapon. An apt and honorable name of his husband wanting to take his cock. The anxiety in Chu Wanning’s face slightly fades seeing Mo Ran’s smile. He touches Chu Wanning’s chin with a knuckle to direct him into a kiss with a hum. “I can do it myself later.”

Chu Wanning stubbornly says, “I want to.” Even through the kiss he doesn’t break his gaze on Mo Ran’s cock hard and straining, teased and taunted by Chu Wanning only to be offered more than Mo Ran would have dared take. Soft fingers brush against his length only to further taunt him.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Mo Ran says with another kiss, this time against his cheek. He's giving Chu Wanning one chance to back out before he runs for the basket of food for the cooking oil.  “Just use your hands or mouth.”

Chu Wanning’s voice pitches in shock, “Mouth?” He swallows hard. Mo Ran can watch the line of his throat rise and fall. The man might be a zongshi, but he is truly ignorant in matters of bodily pleasure.

“You don’t have to, baobei,” Mo Ran says even as the horny, needy part of him wails and cries in tantrum that he doesn’t need to be a decent person taking things slow for Chu Wanning and instead should guide him into rolling onto his stomach with his hips in the air and ass exposed for Mo Ran to take. It’d feel so good to know his husband in the most intimate ways. Chu Wanning’s body is already so pliant under his touch and would surely surrender under him, twist with him and intertwine together. 

The sleeve slips entirely off Chu Wanning’s shoulder as he shifts, unsure of himself. It rests at the crook of his elbow, his shoulder and chest exposed to the lantern light. Chu Wanning tugs at it only for it to fall off again. He gives up trying to cover himself and bends forward, holding Mo Ran’s cock in his timid hand and experimentally running his tongue against the head. His long hair falls forward to hide him from sight and tickle Mo Ran’s thighs. Mo Ran curses loudly and falls back to rest on his elbows, everything exposed for Chu Wanning to explore and discover as he wishes. Chu Wanning can take anything he wants.

It doesn’t take long. Chu Wanning has barely taken the head into his mouth while stroking his shaft when Mo Ran loses all restraint. He’s been taunted for so long already. He barely manages to warn Chu Wanning enough not to come in his mouth. Mo Ran lays back puffing, letting the remnants of pleasure pass over him. Never before has he wondered what ascension feels like but now he knows. In the whole two times he's fooled around with people, it's never felt like this. 

Laying half naked with his cock out, Mo Ran opens his eyes again to see Chu Wanning sitting awkwardly next to him, tugging at the fabric of the pants to hide the darkened spot of his own release in the fabric. His cheeks are bright pink still, even pinker than before now that the moment has passed and he’s growing awareness over himself. And his lips are red and glistening. Mo Ran wants to kiss those lips again.

“Wanning, come here” Mo Ran says holding out an arm to him not wanting Chu Wanning to lose his bliss to unsurity of what to do now. Chu Wanning inches closer. He only lays down next to Mo Ran on the blanket when Mo Ran tugs him down. He wraps an arm around Chu Wanning and presses a kiss to his temple.

“You’re too good to me, Wanning” Mo Ran hums with a smile.

Chu Wanning makes a small noise. Mo Ran isn’t entirely sure what it means. But when he seeks a kiss on the lips, Chu Wanning closes his eyes and returns the kiss.

Chu Wanning isn’t a man of words. Mo Ran has learned that the hard way. But he is a tender hearted man once the ice has been chipped away. Mo Ran loves his tender heart, and with a soul of fire, Mo Ran is certain he can keep the ice melted back.

Later that night, when they’re laid together in the small bed set in the middle of the central room, Mo Ran jokes, “So, is it just a political marriage now?”

Through the pitch black Chu Wanning sleepily replies, “It’s not.”

Mo Ran smiles and rolls so he pins Chu Wanning into the thin pad. Naked now to avoid sleeping in soiled clothes, Mo Ran can feel every inch of Chu Wanning’s body under him. His arms. His shoulders. His chest and narrow waist. His thighs and even his cold toes touching Mo Ran’s ankles. Mo Ran peppers him in kisses even as he tries to bat him off. Mo Ran snickers and announces, “I like you a lot, Wanning.”

Chu Wanning exhales deeply at Mo Ran’s antics. Mo Ran pushes back the long hair from Chu Wanning’s forehead. He boldly asks, “Do you like this humble husband too?”

“Go to sleep, Mo Ran.”

Mo Ran makes a sad noise far too much like a dog left out in the rain to scratch at the door in the hopes that maybe, maybe someone will love him enough to open the door. Chu Wanning hears it and after a long moment in which Mo Ran gives up on any praise, Chu Wanning quietly says “I like you too.”

Giddy and gleeful, Mo Ran can’t stop there. He grabs Chu Wanning’s hand, dragging it to rest on his chest and says, “I love you, Wanning. Do you love me too?”

They resume work on the pavilion the following morning. Chu Wanning finishes the steps they ripped out the day before while Mo Ran clambers back into his hole to resume the pond. Now he imagines laying in the soft grass next to the pond with a bottle of wine, lazily kissing for hours before tumbling into something more, just like they did last night. Maybe they’ll skinnydip. Maybe they’ll do more than that in the refreshing water.  He smiles to himself and looks up to admire Chu Wanning on the porch. 

He jumps because Chu Wanning is not by the pavilion but standing over him, raised on the bank like the dais of a god.

Mo Ran beams under his presence. “What's up?”

“I finished the steps. Do you need help with this before we go down for lunch?”

“Always” Mo Ran says holding out a hand for him. Chu Wanning doesn't take it. He elegantly leaps into the pond basin next to Mo Ran. Before he can grab his shovel, Mo Ran catches him around the waist and pulls him in. Chu Wanning gasps and sharply asks “What are you doing?”

Mo Ran answers by planting a kiss on his cheek saying “I've been wanting to do this all morning.”

“You're covered in dirt.”

The reply is so not what Mo Ran expects that he laughs and buries his face against Chu Wanning’s neck. “And yet you're jumping down into the dirt with me.”

Chu Wanning has no clue what it means to Mo Ran that he’d step into the mud and filth with him. In his childhood he never thought anyone would. He never thought he would ascend above it. And now both have happened. His husband is one of the most powerful people in the cultivation world and yet he jumps into the mud simply because Mo Ran asked.

Better than that, he offered to climb into the mud just because Mo Ran was there.

Chu Wanning flatly replies “It's not that deep” just as Mo Ran lands a kiss on his cheek. He closes his eyes and ever so slightly leans in so his chest is pressed against Mo Ran’s and easier to kiss. Chu Wanning rises onto his tiptoes to meet Mo Ran as he stands. Mo Ran groans into the kiss feeling his body pressed against his, already feeling a heady heat rising in him. 

Mo Ran gives him his kiss and assures, “Not yet, but we can make it deeper.”

“What? 

“What?”

Mo Ran says, “The hole.”

Chu Wanning speaks over him. “Helping you dig. Nevermind. Forget it.”

Mo Ran locks his fingers behind Chu Wanning’s back. “Only for a kiss.” 

Chu Wanning gives one quick, chaste kiss to make Mo Ran forget the awkward moment. It makes Mo Ran’s heart flutter as he reluctantly lets his husband go.

As Chu Wanning starts digging, Mo Ran admires the handprints on his ass.

They return to the main halls for lunch. Chu Wanning’s plates and bowls are all light and green while Mo Ran’s is heavy with rich meats covered in mouth watering sauces. He's just convincing Chu Wanning to try beef covered in a thick, sweet glaze from his plate when Madam Wang approaches their table with Tanlang Elder.

“Morning,” she says to the two of them. “Hopefully the pavilion didn't leak too much last night.”

“Your son did well fixing up the roof yesterday,” Chu Wanning politely replies. Madam Wang smiles at the praise of her son who, across the dining hall, is yelling at the blonde man for flirting right in front of him. Mo Ran snorts thinking it sounds like a married couple bickering rather than anger at an outsider flirting with Xue Meng's shimei.

His own husband shoots him a sharp look for his snort causing Mo Ran to remember that he is a married man. Heat rises to his cheeks remembering it and how much he likes his husband, how he's almost thankful for whatever sect politics, politics he can now vaguely guess as, drew Chu Wanning to him. And remembering what Chu Wanning’s mouth felt like wrapping his cock.

Madam Wang and Tanlang Elder check Chu Wanning’s pulse and access his spiritual core. They look at each other perplexed, causing Mo Ran’s heart to clench until Tanlang Elder says that his core is repairing faster than expected. There's an intonation to his voice that Mo Ran picks up and fully understands when Chu Wanning turns pink. Still, the man keeps his icy demeanor towards the physician and says “That means you can stop prodding at me and I can resume work.”

“Not quite. A few more days even at this rate,” Madam Wang says. Chu Wanning scowls yet she ignores it, seemingly used to acerbic personalities bumping against her. She turns to Mo Ran and says, “Xue Zhengyong got word that your family will be arriving this evening. Nangong Yan agreed to our conditions.”

“Really!!?” Mo Ran leaps up. His drink nearly spills except for Chu Wanning’s fast reflexes shooting his hand out to grab the cup. “Mama too?”

“I don’t know who, just that they sent word for three rooms to be prepared in the guest quarters.”

Mo Ran is all but vibrating in excitement when Wang Chuqing leaves. He turns to Chu Wanning excitedly, grabbing his hands and saying “You can finally meet her. She’s going to love you.”

Chu Wanning doesn’t match Mo Ran’s energy but there’s a glint in his eyes that tells Mo Ran he’s pleased for him. Chu Wanning reaches for a scallion pancake and calmly says, “We’ve met each other.”

“What? When? How?? Have you seen her perform?”

“I have,” Chu Wanning replies. “At the wedding. She and I spoke. And she wrote me a letter.”

“Why didn’t you say?” Mo Ran asks in excitement at the thought of Chu Wanning and his mom in the same room. Chu Wanning gives him a deadpan look that says Why do you think I didn’t tell you that gives Mo Ran all the answer he needs. Mo Ran grabs Chu Wanning’s hand saying, “Whatever. Now you get to meet her properly. We should go down to Wuchang Town and get something for her.”

“Mn,” Chu Wanning agrees. “I want to meet with Xue Zhengyong right now, but after we can.”

“Okay. It’s a date! Send me one of those message flowers after. Or find someone to grab me. I’ll be with Xue Meng. He looks like he needs rescued.” Mo Ran pecks a kiss on Chu Wanning’s cheek and runs off, shouting at Xue Meng from across the hall that his mom’s coming to Sieheng Peak. Xue Meng is all too willing to break away from Mei Hanxue and join Mo Ran running out of the hall into the light drizzle. The pair laugh and bump shoulders both trying to avoid the drizzle and push the other out into it. The light competition leads them to the training fields where they finally decide to spar properly now that Mo Ran is healed.

Xue Meng wins, of course. It’s to be expected that the darling of the heavens would beat the Nangong heir with less than half the training. As far as Xue Meng knows, Mo Ran hasn’t even reached core formation. Although he has, he lacks the training and skills needed for a truly fair fight.

Afterwards they work together preparing the guest quarters for Duan Yihan and the others. Mo Ran sweeps while Xue Meng lays out bed linens. Mo Ran is grateful. Xue Meng has no reason to hang out other than to avoid Mei Hanxue’s constant teasing. He could find a million better things to do than make beds.

“So what’s going on with the chess formation?” Mo Ran asks when Xue Meng plops down to sit on the freshly made bed and watch Mo Ran sweep. “Are there any updates?”

Xue Meng’s mouth tilts to one side in contemplation of what he’s allowed to tell Mo Ran. Finally he says “We managed to track down a lot of the Shadow Guard. Around half of them so far seem to be chess pieces. It’s really hard to break the technique so it’s really slow. Even powerful cultivators can’t break more than two or three at a time without hurting themselves. And of course whoever it is has gone into hiding. But because they were doing a test run for opening the Infinite Hells we think we might have an idea of who is behind it.”

“Who?” Mo Ran says quickly. He leans on his broom.

“Luo Fenghua. Or someone connected to him. I guess he was Nangong Xu’s shizun a long time ago. And he conned his way into being sect leader before Nangong Liu managed to kill him and take it back. But his soul was locked in the Infinite Hells or something. I dunno. That’s just what Dad said. It was some unofficial thing because they wanted to keep their shit quiet from the other sects, but someone was trying to bring him back and probably overthrow the whole sect. Tianyin Pavilion’s taken over investigating. But because they were taking over the Shadow Guard and not many people have access to even who knows who’s in it, Ye Wangxi and his shizun are being looked at. I think Xu Shuang-something is the person they’re tracking down now. He disappeared.”

“Chu Wanning knows Ye Wangxi,” Mo Ran says. He doesn’t hide the bitterness in his words thinking about the man who constantly tried to grab at Mo Ran as he crossed the training grounds. “He trains with Nangong Si a lot.”

“Do you not like him? Do you think he might be it?” Xue Meng asks hearing his tone.

“I dunno. But he does have a butterfly bone beauty that he bought, so he doesn’t care about people. Someone like that might cultivate a technique like that. And have the means to."

Xue Meng groans and throws his head back. “All of this sucks. Why can’t they just be normal.”

Mo Ran agrees and silently curses that entire half of his bloodline. 

They prepare all three rooms. Mo Ran doesn’t really want to prepare any rooms except for the one for his mom, but he doesn’t know where she’ll be assigned. Or, an anxious little voice in his head, if she’s coming at all. Nangong Yan may have brought a small entourage rather than his caged bird.

While they’re working on the third room Mei Hanxue slips inside. Immediately Xue Meng throws a blanket yelling at him “No. Get out. Don’t come any closer you ugly rat bastard.”

Mo Ran looks from Xue Meng to Mei Hanxue neatly folding the wadded blanket. “I just came to see if Ziming and Mo-gongzi needed help” he says in a smooth, calm voice that contrasts Xue Meng yell. “If I’m unwanted I can leave.”

Xue Meng huffs and snatches the folded blanket back to drape over the bed. “I think you’d be better off apologizing to Xiao-mei. And the others.”

“I already did.”

“And now you’re tucking your tail between your legs and hiding so they don’t gang up on you and kick your butt? Fine. You can get on your knees and scrub the floor.”

Mo Ran watches the two of them bicker back and forth. Mei Hanxue looks exhausted while Xue Meng only gets more riled up by how calm he is today compared to the day before, or even just at lunch. It’s interesting to see what the two future sect leaders look like together, surely to be allies in the future although never quite at ease with each other.

Just as Mo Ran is about to join in just to egg them on, a small glowing blossom drifts through the window. It circles through the air before hanging in front of Mo Ran. He reaches out a hand towards it where it settles against his fingers. He expects it to be cold but instead it releases a faint warmth that expands from the tips of his fingers to his heart.

I’ve finished with Xue Zhengyong and will be waiting for you at the head of the steps.

“Hey guys. I got to go. Chu Wanning’s waiting for me.”

“Oh come on, don’t leave me alone with him” Xue Meng whines gesturing at Mei Hanxue who is brushing away the spiderwebs in an upper corner.

“You’re fine. He doesn’t bite. Probably.” Mo Ran says as he jogs out of the room. The last thing he hears is Xue Meng hissing “You better not bite or I’ll kick your ass.”

Chu Wanning stands alone at the top of the steps. He’s a solitary figure in white holding a brown paper umbrella. He doesn’t see Mo Ran coming. Instead he peers down the steps at the figures slowly making their way up. Some are only specks while others are near the top.

Mo Ran moves silently to prevent him from hearing his approach. To his delight, he gets to slip his hand into Chu Wanning’s without him noticing. Chu Wanning jolts at the palm pressing his own, only to soften when he sees it’s Mo Ran.

“You took a long time” is all he says.

“Mengmeng and Mei Hanxue were bickering again” Mo Ran tells him as they start to walk. Chu Wanning crosses the arm holding the umbrella over his chest so it can cover them both without breaking where their hands interlock. Mo Ran glances up at it and beams, thinking the whole time they’ve known each other Chu Wanning has protected him from the rain. Mo Ran just couldn’t see it before.

He realizes that Chu Wanning was protecting Nangong Si from the rain when he first saw him ascend the steps to the party. How many people have held the umbrella for him? Or is he left holding it for everyone else? Is Mo Ran the only person who’s protected him from the rain? Surely someone else has in his life.

“Let me,” Mo Ran reaching for the umbrella. He unpeels Chu Wanning’s fingers from the handle when he doesn’t immediately give it up.  “I want to hold it.”

Mo Ran ensures that Chu Wanning doesn’t get wet even if he gets a little damp. When they arrive in Wuchang Town he can dry himself off. Chu Wanning on the other hand must use his cultivation sparingly while he heals. He already got sick once from standing in the rain with Mo Ran. He doesn’t want even a single drop to touch him.

“This is a lot of steps” Mo Ran says when they’re only halfway down. “Can you imagine slipping and falling? You’d probably leave a blood smear at least a li long.”

“Don’t trip then” Chu Wanning says unhelpfully. Mo Ran laughs and to his delight Chu Wanning doesn’t recoil. Instead he smiles to himself having told a well received joke. Mo Ran leans even closer and says, “If I do trip you’d carry my limp, bloody body back up, right? Do you think you could carry me for what? Four? Five thousand steps?”

“I could.”

“Really?” Mo Ran says teasingly. “I don’t think anyone could.”

Chu Wanning sideyes him up and down. Mo Ran doesn’t fail to miss the way his eyes linger a fraction longer on his chest than anywhere else. His heart races knowing that Chu Wanning is staring at him with desire but not desire evoked by that necklace chain he wore for so long, but rather pure-hearted, infatuated lust for his husband.

Chu Wanning then looks around at the stairs above and below them. He calmly asks, “Is that a bet?”

“Sure. Not like we’ll ever— what the hell!”

Suddenly Chu Wanning is grabbing at Mo Ran, attempting to lift him into his arms. Mo Ran shouts in shock and jumps aside but it does nothing to dissuade Chu Wanning who moves to grab him again. Mo Ran is shocked at this side of Chu Wanning, one that is not at all serious but actually playful. And bitterly competitive it seems. It’s as if what they did the night before unlocked a part of Chu Wanning that was locked away, too scared to be silly or vulnerable or experience any sort of intimacy with anyone at all, be it physical or emotional. Now he grabs Mo Ran by the waist and tries to catch his knees to pull him into a carry. Mo Ran twists away and starts to run. Chu Wanning follows in chase, quickly making ground on him quickly.

Mo Ran is grinning, laughing as he tries to keep away from Chu Wanning. Carefree joy rises in him. For a lifetime he’s tried not to be loud and draw attention lest the wrong person notice. He’s held a strong fear of being chased and caught. He avoided wild play, replacing it for much more mild chatting. But now that childish part of him that he locked away in a cage gets to break free as he swerves on the steps to avoid Chu Wanning’s extended hands. As he spins on the step he looks at Chu Wanning who is determined to catch him.

If it weren’t for the slight smile curling the edges of Chu Wanning’s lips, he’d be a terrifying sight barreling down at Mo Ran. As it is, he’s stunning descending the steps, his long hair flowing behind him and white robes twisting in the rushing air. 

The slowing to catch a glimpse of his husband is all Chu Wanning needs. He manages to grab ahold of Mo Ran’s waist and tug him in so he can hoist him up. Mo Ran is ready knowing that if he couldn’t beat Xue Meng he’d never escape Chu Wanning who took on the Shadow Guard single handedly. Mo Ran spins around and plants a kiss square on Chu Wanning’s forehead saying “Don’t think you’re so clever, dummy.”

Being kissed and called a dummy is enough to throw Chu Wanning off and gives Mo Ran a split second opening to scoop him up in his arms.

“Mo Ran!” Chu Wanning shouts indignantly as Mo Ran ascends the steps back up to where the umbrella was thrown aside. “Put me down!”

“Mnnn… no. I think you lost our bet.”

“This was not the bet!” Chu Wanning kicks his legs indignantly. Mo Ran shifts how he holds Chu Wanning, making him flail and wrap his arms around Mo Ran’s neck to keep from being dropped down the steps. “There was nothing about who could carry who!”

“And yet I won so you owe me something. Hmmm” Mo Ran pretends to contemplate. “How about a kiss?”

“You have noodles for brains,” Chu Wanning huffs. “A big dummy doesn’t even know what the bet was.”

“That’s not a kiss” Mo Ran teases. He shifts Chu Wanning again. “Are you going to let me pick up the umbrella?”

“No.”

“Fine,” Mo Ran kicks at the umbrella, trying to get it high enough that he can somehow grab it. He only manages to kick it further away. He tries again. The third time he tries a golden light flashes out and wraps the handle. Tianwen pulls the umbrella up high over both of them.

“Ah!” Mo Ran gasps in wonder at the holy weapon. Chu Wanning flickers between a scowl and smirk. He takes advantage of the moment of surprise to give Mo Ran a quick kiss.

“Now put me down.”

“Wanning, please?” Mo Ran begs wanting to carry his husband. He’s just getting used to his weight. Used to the feel of his hands around his shoulders. Of the drape of his robes and having his beating heart so close. “Just a little while. Until we see someone.”

Somehow Chu Wanning agrees. Mo Ran happily carries Chu Wanning down the steps. Every so often he plants a kiss on his temple. Once more does Chu Wanning surprise him with one too. But the moment voices can be heard around the bend, Chu Wanning kicks his way out of Mo Ran’s arms, leaving them empty and depressed.

They bump shoulders the rest of the way down the steps. Mo Ran can’t stop grinning. He even promises Chu Wanning that he can carry him back up, although Chu Wanning seems less enthused now that Mo Ran has proven himself a cheater in their bet.

Wuchang Town is busy. For what Mo Ran heard of these mountains housing ghost towns, there are no ghosts and the town is bustling. Chu Wanning keeps close behind Mo Ran as he weaves through the streets. He has a single minded focus of finding something nice to give his mom and brighten whichever room she stays in. He hasn’t yet dared voice his fear that Nangong Yan might have left her at Rufeng Sect. He’s determined to believe he wouldn’t.

He really hopes he wouldn’t.

He ends up buying a handsome bracelet for her, a box of hard candies, and some flowers. He also buys some flowers he catches Chu Wanning looking at, a living branch cut from a haitang tree on the route down the mountain. As they’re leaving the shop Mo Ran passes it to him saying, “Do you think we could find a vase so we can put it in the pavilion?”

“Aren’t these for Duan Yihan?”

Mo Ran pokes Chu Wanning’s arm and lightly says, “That one’s for you, silly.”

Immediately he can tell that no one has given Chu Wanning flowers before Mo Ran. His expression is unnaturally calm and he pulls the blooming branch a little too close to his chest for it to mean nothing for him. Quietly Mo Ran wonders how many firsts tastes of love he’ll give Chu Wanning. Flowers. Sex. Holding an umbrella over his head. How alone was Chu Wanning before? Truly, Chu Wanning did need a husband even if he didn’t realize it.

They get a brief snack. Mo Ran can’t focus on the food thinking about his mom. Chu Wanning agrees to cutting their meal short and popping into only one more shop with ready-made clothes. Mo Ran wants to wear something other than Sisheng Peak robes this evening and his only other clothes are those he wore on the mission. Not much fits him. He’s bigger than most people even so close to a sect. Without custom ordering there isn’t much he can do, but he still buys one outer layer that’s a little too short and cloak to wear. He’s about to pay when Chu Wanning leans around him and slaps a gold leaf on the table. Like Chu Wanning held the flowers close to his chest, Mo Ran holds the robes close to his own thinking that it will join the hair piece as precious gifts from his husband.

He and Chu Wanning make their way up the thousands of steps again. Midway up, when no one else is in sight, Chu Wanning stops and turns to Mo Ran.

He very bluntly says, “I’m not going to lose the bet.”

Mo Ran, who had long forgotten what instigated Chu Wanning chasing him down the stairs stares at him blankly. Suddenly he’s in Chu Wanning’s arms and clinging to his neck as the man slowly ascends the steps.

Unlike Chu Wanning, Mo Ran doesn’t struggle against being carried. He’ll luxuriate in it. He’ll nobly hold the umbrella and bags. He'll stare at Chu Wanning with a loving, dopey expression on his own face. He’ll strain to press kisses against his cheek until Chu Wanning turns pink and says “If you keep doing that I’m going to drop you.”

“Is that a warning or a threat?” Mo Ran asks. He rubs his finger over the back of Chu Wanning’s neck to tickle him lightly.

“Threat.”

Mo Ran counts 279 steps before he insists Chu Wanning let him down for fear of him over-exerting himself. Chu Wanning lets Mo Ran drop to his feet and stand upright, suddenly towering over Chu Wanning once more.

“Thank you for the ride, baobei” Mo Ran says and drapes an arm over his shoulder. “I’ll pay you back soon. Maybe let you take a little ride on me.”

“You already carried me,” Chu Wanning replies. He lets Mo Ran pull him in as he takes the umbrella so they can share the protected space.

Mo Ran leans in close and whispers, “That’s not the kind of ride I mean.” He tugs lightly on the high collar of Chu Wanning’s robes. “Something more like last night’s ride.”

“Mo Ran!” Chu Wanning hisses and picks up his pace leaving Mo Ran on the steps, only to stop around 100 stairs up to wait for him to catch up.

They don’t return to the pavilion. They return to the room they stayed in while Chu Wanning was unconscious. Mo Ran anxiously gets ready, trying to make himself look good to show his mama that he’s happy and healthy. Chu Wanning sits by the window watching birds hop around the garden in search of worms to rip from the soil. 

“Wanning,” Mo Ran calls as he combs his hair. “Could you put my hair up?”

“It’d be something simple,” Chu Wanning replies. He takes the comb from Mo Ran’s hands and starts brushing from end to root. It feels nice. If they had more time he’d surely fall asleep to Chu Wanning petting him.

“That’s fine. Just use the crown you bought me.”

It's the one thing from his clothes from Rufeng Sect he insisted on getting back when he woke.

“Okay.”

Chu Wanning pulls up half of Mo Ran’s hair. He’s meticulous and intentional. He doesn’t pull on Mo Ran’s hair at all. Mo Ran watches in the bronze mirror as Chu Wanning affixes the hair piece with determination to make it look just right. When it’s in place he looks up to study Mo Ran in the mirror only to spot Mo Ran watching him.

“Thank you, baobei” Mo Ran says twisting around to tug his husband into a kiss before they leave to await the carriages.

Two carriages arrive at the peak together. The doors open from the first. Nangong Yan steps out. He’s tall and lithe. He has the same round cheeks, an unarming and friendly face yet still arrogant. Truly a Nangong face. 

Behind him his wife Madam Shen slides out. Her warm green robes, light and airy despite the cold float on the air. A large stone necklace perches on her chest and gold adornments in her hair. Immediately she must mask a put-off expression seeing where they will be staying, used to the lap of luxury in Rufeng’s ninth city. She glides up next to her husband.

Mo Ran steps forward and gives his father a tight bow saying, “I’m glad you accepted Xue Zhengyong’s offer to visit.”

“It was a hard decision to leave home for a while. So much is going on. I’m likely going to be returning soon, but the others will stay longer.”

Mo Ran asks, “What’s happening at the sect?”

“You don’t need to worry about that, Nangong Ran,” Nangong Yan says. “Now, where are we staying? It’s been a long travel. And where’s Xue-zhangmen? I’d like to be filled in on what Sisheng Peak is doing to help, unless, Chu-zongshi, that’s why you’re here?”

Just as he says that Mo Ran’s heart leaps spotting the second carriage trundling up. He has to keep himself from shoving past Nangong Yan and his wife to open the door for his mom. He fully zones out from Chu Wanning’s terse replies. He only processes Chu Wanning putting weight on the name Mo Ran. His entire body is jittering by the time the door opens.

His heart falls.

It’s not his mom sliding out of the wagon. Instead, it’s his half brother and two of his friends. Mo Ran is almost frantic blurting, “Where’s Mama?”

Madam Shen scoffs at Mo Ran’s insistence of his own mother’s existence. She looks to Nangong Yan and says, “I told you that’s why we were invited to stay. It wasn't out of goodwill. They have no intention to house us.”

Nangong Yan hushes her.

“Did you not bring her? Where is she?” Mo Ran insists. He takes a step forward but a firm hand grips his shoulder to stop him. Behind him, Chu Wanning reaches out to keep him grounded. He tries to inhale deeply and asks again, “Is Mama still coming?”

Nangong Yan looks to his son for an answer.

The young man replies, “The other carriage stopped in that repugnant little town. Can we go look around already?”

His brother looks similar to Mo Ran. Smaller, lithe, and softer. He’s not as good looking as Mo Ran. He doesn't have the Nangong curl to his lips nor Duan Yihan’s beauty. He would be a handsome young man except that his half brother is so much better looking that he can't help but appear drab next to him. 

Chu Wanning coldly says, “No.”

Faced with an elder of his own sect, Mo Ran’s half-brother has no choice but to stay with the group instead of wandering off to cast judgement over the poverty of Sisheng Peak. Mo Ran stands anxiously at the head of the drive peering down the steep slope and straining his ears for any sound of a horse’s hooves. Chu Wanning has long since dismissed the Nangong party into Xue Meng’s care. Mo Ran doesn’t even have the strength to pity him or warn him of them. He’s half sure that Xue Meng is going to punch one of them if he hears them calling him poor.

Finally, finally, Mo Ran sees the third carriage slowly making its way up. He can’t help but run down to meet it, jogging alongside the carriage asking, “Duan Yihan? Mama? Are you in there?”

His mama pulls back the curtain and breaks into a beautiful, dimpled smile at him. Her faintly purple eyes, beautiful and phoenix shaped, light up seeing him.

“Xiao-Ran! Stop the carriage. I want out.” She cries reaching out for him through the window. Mo Ran takes her hand before the carriage slows to a stop. She fumbles getting out of the carriage and immediately wraps her arms around her son. Mo Ran has to bend forward for her to be tall enough, and even so she stands on her tip toes.

“How has it been so long when no time has passed. Oh, xiao-Ran, I’ve been so scared for you. What are you doing going and fighting the Shadow Guard??”

“It wasn’t me,” Mo Ran says finally pulling back. He holds her hand and the pair begins to walk up the steep road. “Er, well, I begged Chu Wanning to come. But he didn’t know it was dangerous. He thought we were just doing a final sweep instead of someone opening an entire rift. It doesn’t matter. How have you been?”

“How could it not matter?” she chastises. Her cheeks are pink and a little flushed. Her updo has stray fallen hairs in the back from so long sitting. Despite the scolding, she immediately changes the subject asking, “Does this mean that you and Chu-zongshi are on better terms?”

“Mn. I really really like him.” Mo Ran says and dives into telling her about Chu Wanning.

 Like when he waited to meet Mo Ran on the stairs, Chu Wanning cuts a lonely figure waiting for them. Mo Ran raises his arm and wildly waves. Duan Yihan does too, although her wave is more controlled and elegant, that of a true performer. At their unified waves, Chu Wanning slowly approaches to meet them and walk the rest of the way up the slope with them.

“I hear you’ve been taking good care of my son,” she says the moment Chu Wanning is close enough. “Thank you, Elder Chu.”

“Mo Ran can take care of himself. He’s exceedingly capable.” Chu Wanning replies. He gives Duan Yihan a respectful bow worthy of a mother-in-law, to which she turns pink and tries to insist that there really is no need. Mo Ran’s blush matches his mom’s hearing Chu Wanning’s praise. He reaches out to take Chu Wanning’s hand, interlacing their fingers in a gesture that has become so natural.

When they crest the top of the road Duan Yihan returns to the carriage. She leans against it huffing, “You’re mother’s been a little too still lately, xiao-Ran.”

“Take your time, Mama,” Mo Ran says. He lays a hand on her shoulder and channels his spiritual energy, passing her a little warmth to help fill her lungs. She gives Mo Ran a grateful smile before fishing in the carriage for a box.

“Here, xiao-Ran,” she says handing him the box. Mo Ran takes it with the same uneasy giddiness he felt as a little kid. Even if there’s a single sandal too small with holes in the sole, Mo Ran will always be delighted to receive anything from his mom.

She says, “There’s a small town towards the base of the mountain that’s beautiful. It reminded me of that old lane of the first city that we stayed in for a while when you were little. Do you remember it, xiao-Ran? The one where they hung up all the streamers and passed out food. Everyone was so charming and friendly. And oh, xiao-Ran, the food. If you haven’t been down there we really need to go. You wouldn’t believe how good it smells walking through town. I could have spent all week there if it weren’t that I was so eager to see you.”

“We’ve been. Wanning and I actually went this morning.” Mo Ran’s fingers run over the box. It’s simple with no embelishment. He wants to open it immediately but he knows he should take it back to his room. He decides to ask, “Is it food?”

If it is he’ll open it now and share with the two beside him and if it’s not he’ll force himself to wait.

“No,” she says brightly, a laugh decorating her speech. “I was hoping we could all go back for food. With Madam Shen here, I doubt A-Yan will have time for me.”

“We'll take you to eat, Mama. I made a friend here and he said there's a really, really good hotpot place.”

Her eyes light up the same way that Mo Ran’s did when he heard about the restaurant. There's something about a meal specifically meant to be shared that fills Mo Ran and Duan Yihan with so much joy.

Mo Ran has to run ahead to show proper respect to his father and help get him settled in. He leaves Chu Wanning to watch after Duan Yihan. He looks over his shoulder a dozen times as he parts ways with them. Each time Duan Yihan laughs and gives him a little wave. The last time she doesn't notice him looking back through the trees. She's leaning in close talking to Chu Wanning who gives a nod and replies something Mo Ran can't hear. He can hear his mom's laugh though. He hopes that's a good sign. Even if he didn't choose his husband, it matters a lot that his mom likes him. After everything Mo Ran said of Chu Wanning he was worried she might not.

Mo Ran shows his father and brother around the public areas of the sect that they’ll be allowed as quickly as he can. He nabs Xue Meng who, for once wanting a sweet-talker, grabbed Mei Hanxue to act as a buffer between the two of them and that sticky Nangong smile. The five walk along the winding paths while Mo Ran’s brother’s friends follow behind.

Mo Ran leans in close and whispers to Xue Meng “Thanks for this.”

“Damn right. You owe me. These people are awful.”

Mo Ran snorts, laughing at Xue Meng saying what he'd never be able to say so openly. He also laughs when Xue Meng rolls his eyes dramatically when Mo Ran’s brother says something stupid. Mo Ran has to hide his face. Who knew having a conspirator would make even his father’s side entertaining. Xue Meng even rudely refuses Nangong Yan when he sweetly asks to revisit a restricted area and, in the presence of the sect’s young master, he must tuck his tail between his legs and walk past the barrier.

Xue Meng leans in and whispers to Mo Ran, “Stick your hand through.”

Curious, Mo Ran tentatively reaches out to touch the shimmering barrier blocking the hallway to the room where Xue Zhengyong has been storing information on the chess formation. To his delight, his hand passes through meaning he can enter unsupervised. It’s exciting to be included and trusted, especially when it was just proven that others are not. That bitter part of Mo Ran is sated by such knowledge.

Finally, when everyone is settled into their rooms and it’s well established where the Nangongs and company are and are not allowed, Mo Ran is able to slip back into the third room he and Chu Wanning prepared for Duan Yihan.

It’s empty. Duan Yihan’s small trunk of clothes is neatly pushed against a wall so she’s been in here.

Mo Ran stands confused, turning a slow circle with his hands at his sides when he spots the small note. It’s his mom’s handwriting telling him that Chu Wanning has taken her to the gardens. There are many gardens at Sisheng Peak, but the only one Mo Ran knows that Chu Wanning knows of are the gardens next to the room they’ve been staying in, the one Mo Ran picked the pretty silver flower in. He doesn’t waste time and jogs to the garden.

Immediately he hears soft notes of a pipa. They pass over Mo Ran and fade only to be replaced by the harmonious resonance of a guqin returning the same notes.

Mo Ran stops just before the entry of the garden and watches.

His mom sits on a bench, her soft robes flowing around her like a waterfall. Truly she looks like a painting. She looks like her former self, a beautiful, proud woman of honor and skill that Mo Ran never met but only heard of sitting under a tree and surrounded by rare shrubs. It’s the first time Mo Ran has seen her out of her cage, and delight fills him with how happy and joyous she looks.

Sitting on a laid out blanket, Chu Wanning has set up his guqin. Mo Ran recognizes it, the beautiful instrument with haitang flowers growing from the dark wood. His sleeves are lightly tugged back so his wrists are revealed. They contrast the dark wood. Under this circumstance, without duress or terror or rain, Chu Wanning looks elegant with his holy weapon. His long white robes kick out behind him in a circle only adding to the scene.

Chu Wanning plays the section of song again.

“Hmm,” Duan Yihan hums. “You emphasize that last note.”

“It adds power to it,” Chu Wanning replies. His hand rests in the final shape of the note Duan Yihan comments on. “With the addition of spiritual energy, it would amplify it and could be used in a spell.”

“But without spiritual energy?” She asks as though she’s tutoring the great zongshi in how to play his own holy weapon. Chu Wanning gives her a confused look as though he too doesn’t get it. To show him what she means, she plays the section of song and carries on beyond the section that she’s taught him. She stops at the end and lets Chu Wanning think.

“The transition between notes will be harsher,” Chu Wanning says and she nods with a bright smile.

“For me, everything is about fluidity and performance. Emphasizing one section means detracting from the next if you can’t make a smooth transition.”

A grin grows over Mo Ran’s face watching the two of them. Duan Yihan closes her eyes and listens to Chu Wanning carefully. She smiles when she hears the subtle difference and dimples appear in her cheeks. Chu Wanning’s back is to Mo Ran, so he can only watch his shoulders ever so slightly shift under his robes and his long ponytail draping down his spine.

“That was beautiful,” Mo Ran says deciding to make his entry. Duan Yihan lights up seeing him, jumping to her feet to run over the paving stones to him. Chu Wanning twists around to watch Mo Ran who can’t help but reach out to brush his shoulder with his fingertips as they pass.

Mo Ran and Duan Yihan settle on the bench next to each other. She gestures at Chu Wanning and says, “Your husband was teaching me about music. He’s very talented, xiao-Ran. Has he played for you yet”

“It sounded like you were teaching him,” Mo Ran teases. More serious, he adds, “He hasn’t, but he’ll have to.”

“Only a little,” she says. “About showmanship.”

“You humble yourself,” Chu Wanning says. Mo Ran picks up an underlying softness that he doesn’t much hear from Chu Wanning. He clearly wants Duan Yihan to like him but is unsure how to impress such favor upon himself. He’s not the most personable man. An attempt at flattering is a little unnatural coming from him. Mo Ran grins at Chu Wanning thinking it cute. Even more so because Duan Yihan so clearly adores Chu Wanning already. 

Especially when she lightly says, “I really don’t. I just entertain, but what you do is truly what music should be.” Mo Ran finds it funny how skilled his mother is in flattery and even funnier for her to be flattering Chu Wanning who is unused to affectionate praise. He opens his mouth slightly to reply and can’t think of what to say. Mo Ran spares his poor husband from grasping at words and asks them to show him what they’ve been working on. 

Duan Yihan is right that Chu Wanning plays with more intention channeled into each note while she focuses on performance and fluidity. The combination is beautiful and Mo Ran wishes he had an instrument with him to join in. He feels his technique is somewhere between the two and would harmonize them perfectly. He lacks an instrument though, so he merely closes his eyes and hums to join.

Just like Mo Ran promised, he and Chu Wanning take Duan Yihan down to Wuchang Town for dinner. As they’re piling into a carriage Mo Ran spots Xue Meng finally escaping entertaining Mo Ran’s guests and waves him over to join them in thanks for occupying the Nangongs and introduce him to his mama.

They sit around a table sharing a split pot. Xue Meng and Duan Yihan eat from the spicy half. Both of them sweat from the profuse heat. Xue Meng is red faced with his tongue out while Duan Yihan’s face is dewy with sweat that only makes her look somehow more beautiful. Mo Ran and Chu Wanning share the other half, half that is a rich, salty broth without any spice at all. Chu Wanning adds ample vegetables while Mo Ran tosses in meat. He’s pleased that Chu Wanning accepts everything he fishes out and places in his bowl.

“Tell us about when Mo Ran was little.” Xue Meng says. “Something embarrassing.”

“We really don’t need–” Mo Ran starts not wanting them to know about his past before they arrived at Rufeng Sect lest they look down on him, but Duan Yihan waves a hand to quiet her son. She dives into a story about when she went out to busk and Mo Ran decided to pick berries. He got himself lost in the woods until he found some sheep. He spent all day befriending the sheep until the farmer came to gather them for the night. Duan Yihan spent all day panicking where her son went, but like a friendly dog, he wandered into another family’s home, earned himself a full belly, and waddled back to their shed come sundown with an armful of food in his grubby toddlers hands. They ate well that night. She concludes saying, “Xiao-Ran has always been good at finding a family wherever he goes. He always seems to find good people.” She gives a meaningful look at Xue Meng, and then an even more meaningful look towards Chu Wanning. She gives him a warm smile, one adorned with a twinkle in her eyes.

With practiced ease, Duan Yihan asks Xue Meng questions to get to know him. Mo Ran learns that he wasn’t born at Sisheng Peak and instead his mom was traveling when she went into early labor. She asks about Chu Wanning too. Chu Wanning tells her how although he came from Wubei Temple, he was relatively unaffiliated with the sect and therefore Rufeng Sect is basically all he knows of the cultivation world, and therefore he finds Sisheng Peak refreshing. Xue Meng lights up at this, eager to hear his home praised. Mo Ran excitedly tells her about what he’s been up to in their short period apart. He tells her about the pavilion they’re fixing up to which Xue Meng chimes in. When Mo Ran gets to their plans for the pond he turns to Chu Wanning, asking him to tell her about the red lotuses.

Perhaps it’s the rice wine, but Mo Ran feels a little drunk listening to Chu Wanning telling her about the flowers and what arrays can be created with them. Chu Wanning’s voice is even and deep. The tone resonates in Mo Ran’s chest the same as the music from his guqin did. And the way he forms each sound with his lips makes Mo Ran want to kiss them. He doesn’t notice Mo Ran watching him and has no clue of the thoughts marching through Mo Ran’s mind. It’s only the fact that he’s across the table from his mother that stops him from laying a hand on Chu Wanning’s thigh and sliding it up, up, up until it rests over that perfect little cock.

Mo Ran chokes on his wine and breaks into a coughing fit.

After they eat, they all move out into the streets. It’s raining again and many of the shops have shuttered themselves. Mo Ran catches Chu Wanning’s hand as he’s about to form a seal for a rain barrier. Chu Wanning tries to pull it back quietly saying, “What are you doing?”

“Just let me,” Mo Ran says softly. “You already summoned a holy weapon today.”

“I know what I’m capable of” Chu Wanning retorts. Mo Ran squeezes his hand. He draws it to his lips to kiss lightly.

“I know, but I want to.”

“Xiao-Ran? Chu Wanning? Are you coming or should we wait?” Duan Yihan calls. Xue Meng is already ahead scouting out if the bookshop is still open or if they shut their doors with the sunset.

“We’re coming,” Mo Ran calls back. Quieter he says, “She already loves you. You have no reason to prove yourself. Let me take care of you so you're done healing sooner.”

Before Chu Wanning can reply, Mo Ran pinches his fingers and tosses up a barrier that extends from himself and Chu Wanning all the way to Duan Yihan. Flowers float through the barrier, the small silver ones of the flower he picked for Chu Wanning. Lightly fluttering and landing on the flowers are butterflies. From in front of them, Mo Ran can hear his mother gasp in wonderment alongside the other people in the street between them.

“Chu-zongshi, this is beautiful,” she says and reaches out to touch a flower. Chu Wanning almost corrects her but Mo Ran gives his hand a little squeeze. He knows his mama doesn’t think he would dare show off such a feat of power when he’s been hiding his core for so many years, so of course she thinks it’s Chu Wanning’s barrier. Mo Ran pulls Chu Wanning’s hand lightly and they all catch up with Xue Meng in front of the bookshop.

Within the bookshop, as Duan Yihan peruses the books and scrolls so different from those at Rufeng Sect, Mo Ran pulls Chu Wanning into a tight, back corner to press him against a wall and plant a kiss on his lips. He can’t help it after thinking about touching him all through dinner. It’s been so long since they touched, even if it’s only been a short while. 

Chu Wanning resists at first, all of one single kiss and a defiant hiss before he’s kissing Mo Ran back with unskilled neediness. It’s a quick, deep embrace that breaks like two lovers parted over a deep, stormy sea. Chu Wanning runs all the way to the other end of the store while Mo Ran peruses for books that Chu Wanning could read if he wanted an education on pleasure that comes not just from Mo Ran’s hand. He doesn’t buy them yet, but he makes a mental note to return tomorrow for them. He does buy a tall stack of books and papers that Duan Yihan has picked out. She could afford them herself but Mo Ran wants to buy them for her. Stories and reports and songs. She’s picked a vast array of culture to catch up on from the region so that she may have new topics to entertain herself and others with.

Xue Meng has a book too. One on rankings. He's flipping through it as they leave the shop grumbling that he must be better than Mei Hanxue at something. “It's not like there's two of him and one of me,” Xue Meng grumbles.

A little more exploring, candied hawthorn berries for everyone, and they pile back into the carriage to return to the sect. Mo Ran sits next to his mom but he reaches out with his ankle to maintain contact with Chu Wanning who doesn't get what he's doing and tells him to stop wiggling so much. It causes Duan Yihan, who knows exactly what her son is doing, to laugh. Chu Wanning and Xue Meng turn to her with inquisitive expressions while Mo Ran turns pink at being caught by his mom playing one sided footsies. 

By the time they return to the grounds of the sect, the rain is falling in earnest. Xue Meng and Chu Wanning depart the carriage together while Mo Ran returns Duan Yihan to her chambers. He doesn't want her going alone in case Nangong Yan wanted to visit and she wasn't there.

When they're alone and she shuts the door, she turns to Mo Ran saying, “It seems like Chu Wanning has grown on you.” She leans against the doorframe and begins twisting rings off her long fingers.

“You were right, Mama.” Mo Ran says. She moves past him and starts unwinding her hair. 

“So, is he kind? He's shy, but he seems kind.”

“Yeah. He really is.” Mo Ran contemplates how to put his feelings into words before describing what rests in his heart for Chu Wanning. He describes it in detail. The kind things Chu Wanning did when he couldn't see them. The battle and Chu Wanning both trusting Mo Ran and wanting to protect him. Coming here and waiting for Chu Wanning to wake up.

“Tomorrow you should meet Madam Wang if she's around,” Mo Ran suddenly says, his mind leaping to a whole new topic. “Mama, she has the fattest cat. I can barely pick it up. And all it does is laze around looking for sun patches.”

“It sounds like you want me to meet a cat, silly boy.”

“Oh, no. Madam Wang is Xue Meng's mom. But she's really nice. And she likes to garden. She let me help.”

Duan Yihan laughs lightly, the sort of laugh that showers on praise upon her silly son because she's so happy for him. Mo Ran would like to bottle that laugh and keep the vile close to his heart as long as he lives.

“If I see her tomorrow I'll have to thank her for taking care of my little boy.”

They talk a while more as Duan Yihan gets ready for bed. She tells him stories of their travels and how they stopped in a town she had been to before. Because Nangong Yan’s wife didn't want to see her the entire trip, she ended up walking the streets in solitude where she met a man who watched her perform at the peak of her career and remembered her. They shared tea and reminisced about the past, and she learned her friend Xun Fengruo still works in a respected song house called The Drunken Jade.

“We should go there, xiao-Ran. I'd love to see her again, although she might not like seeing me. We were always bitter rivals and had countless arguments. Maybe I could even apologize for being too headstrong…”

“You? Headstrong and stubborn and-”

“Don't tease me” Duan Yihan says reaching out to pinch Mo Ran’s cheek like a toddler.

Mo Ran squirms away.

“When things settle I'll take you to the Drunken Jade. How about that?” Mo Ran says. “Nangong Yan can't refuse Chu Wanning. And if he does, Chu Wanning can talk to Nangong Liu and make him let you go with us.”

“You don't have to pretend like I can't leave, silly boy” she says although Mo Ran knows it's a lie she tells herself.

Mo Ran promises, “We'll go. We'll eat all the food they serve and listen to your friend perform. I’m sure she’ll remember you.”

They bid each other good night and Mo Ran runs through the rain back to the guest chambers he and Chu Wanning are staying in. The empty halls tell him that he stayed with his mom longer than he thought he would. Only a single disciple cleaning lingers in the halls to clean. Outside the wind howls and rain beats against the mountainside. They were lucky when they went to Wuchang Town that the weather was so mild.

Their room is empty. The bed is cold. The candles are unlit. Unlike before, there is no note although Mo Ran has an idea of the only other place Chu Wanning might have gone.

Wrapped in a waxed cloak, arms full of warm, dry changes of clothes and a bottle of pear blossom wine like that they shared at the party where they met, Mo Ran traverses the dark slopes up to the pavilion on the Southern Peak. Sure enough, a small pinpoint of a candlelight illuminates the window. 

Chu Wanning is inside, curled small and asleep next to a paper and spilled ink pot.

“Baobei,” Mo Ran whispers softly laying a hand on his shoulder. His robes are damp from ascending the peak. Chu Wanning makes a small sound and curls tighter not wanting to wake up at the light touch. Under the candlelight his face scrunches, little wrinkles forming on his nose. “Wanning, are you awake?”

Chu Wanning still shows no sign of waking. It must be the consequence of summoning his holy weapon today. Mo Ran smiles down at him, lightly stroking his arm before scooping Chu Wanning up in his arms. Chu Wanning opens one eye, then two. His feet kick out as Mo Ran lifts him with ease.

“What are you doing?” Chu Wanning asks. His words are groggy and thick with sleep. “Put me down.”

“Carrying you to bed,” Mo Ran says. “You fell asleep on the floor.”

“You took a long time,” Chu Wanning says almost accusatoryly, as if Mo Ran is to blame for him falling asleep on the floor. Mo Ran hopes it’s true because the idea of Chu Wanning sitting up waiting for him until he couldn’t keep his eyes open warms his heart.

Mo Ran grins. “Were you waiting for me, baobei?”

“No.”

He was. Mo Ran knows it as his defiant no. Chu Wanning likely sat up waiting for Mo Ran in their room before getting antsy and deciding to come up here to work while he waited, except that sleep overtook him.

Mo Ran sets him down on the makeshift bed they assembled. Chu Wanning tries to make himself look awake and put together having just been carried, but fails when a yawn overpowers him. Mo Ran shuffles to sit behind him and begins taking down his tight ponytail for him.

“Your mother’s settled in well?” Chu Wanning asks. He sits facing forward, perfectly still as Mo Ran’s fingers brush against his neck. When his hair falls, Mo Ran runs his fingers through it to release the tension of the ponytail. His hair is so soft. His fingers just pass through it with ease. Chu Wanning ever so slightly tilts his head back against Mo Ran’s touch.

“Yep. She wanted me to thank you for today. She said she had a good time learning from you and going to dinner.” Mo Ran pushes his hair back to kiss the back of his neck just above the high collar.

Chu Wanning makes a small noise from the back of his throat.

“Robes off,” Mo Ran says nuzzling against his husband’s neck. He reaches under Chu Wanning’s arm to toy at his collar. “I brought dry ones this time.”

“You take your robes off” Chu Wanning clips back. His hand closes around Mo Ran’s toying at the fabric of his collar. Mo Ran can’t decide if it’s in warning of his request or not wanting Mo Ran to stop touching him.

“Okay, but you have to let go, babe,” Mo Ran replies. Slowly Chu Wanning’s fingers uncurl from his hand so Mo Ran can shift back to undo his layers. Layer by layer, he undoes his robes. Chu Wanning repeatedly glimpses over his shoulder at Mo Ran, stealing glances like a thief grabbing precious gemstones. By the time Mo Ran stands to untie the knots holding his pants, Chu Wanning’s ears are bright pink and he keeps his eyes pointed cast downwards at the blankets. Even so, when he hears Mo Ran stepping out of his pants, he furtively steals another glance.

His entire face turns pink. He mutters, “Where’s the pajamas?”

Mo Ran looks around and realizes he forgot the pajamas by the door. He says as much, adding that Chu Wanning should take off his damp layers before he catches cold again, and walks out to where he dropped the clothes.

He stops at the window next to where Chu Wanning slept. No rain bashes through it onto the floor when before it did. . A new sigil is carved into the wood of the frame. Mo Ran smiles passing his hand over it knowing Chu Wanning sealed the window with a barrier until the shutters are fixed. The silly man could have waited a little longer and Mo Ran would have done it for him. Chu Wanning really is too hard working protecting everyone else from the rain. 

Mo Ran gathers the clean clothes and bottle of wine he grabbed before. He doesn’t know if they’ll drink it, but he wants to give it to Chu Wanning anyway. He just wants to shower him in gifts as much as he wants to shower him in kisses. He can’t help but think sharing this jar of wine will truly be an offer to begin again, return to before and forget the rocky early days of their marriage. 

By the time he returns to the room with their bed, Chu Wanning is undressed. His white robes pool on the floor like a patch of ground touched by snow. He sits facing the window watching the rain fall. The blanket drapes over his lap. A small part of Mo Ran thinks back to stories of emperors and concubines. Chu Wanning looks like a favored concubine sitting and awaiting the emperor. His long dark hair so silky that Mo Ran’s fingers glide through it. His muscular shoulders sloping into a narrow waist. Even in the low light of the candle Mo Ran can see a few scattered scars he wants to soothe with tender kisses. And at the base of his back, unobscured by the blankets he sits on, are the dimples resting on either side of his spine.

Mo Ran sits down on the bed next to him.

“You look good like this,” Mo Ran says. He opens the jar of wine and passes it to Chu Wanning. “This is the same wine as when we first met. It’s sweet, remember?”

“I do,” Chu Wanning takes the wine and raises it to his lips to take in a heavy swig. When he lowers it from his lips they shine. Mo Ran can’t help but lean forward wanting to kiss the dew drop of wine off. A delightful little sound escapes Chu Wanning. It’s as sweet as the wine. Already Mo Ran feels a little drunk. It’s the effect Chu Wanning has on him. It must be love. What else could be so intoxicating?

He kisses Chu Wanning downwards to the ground until he’s surrounded by soft begging. Chu Wanning lays on his back looking up at Mo Ran, his dark eyes heavy and lidded with desire fighting sleep. He accepts another kiss and digs his fingers into Mo Ran’s arms. This time it’s Mo Ran’s turn to press himself against Chu Wanning, dropping over him to bury him entirely. Even pressed together, they’re too far apart. He tugs lightly at the blanket Chu Wanning hid from the chill under.

“Wanning,” Mo Ran hums. “I want to make love to you.”

“Don’t say it like that,” Chu Wanning murmurs back. He twists under Mo Ran, trying to unbind where the blanket catches his legs. It only presses them closer together, grinding their bodies together.

Not wanting the poetic romance, Mo Ran says plainly, “I want to fuck you so hard until you come on my cock, babygirl.”

Chu Wanning gasps. He manages half a reproachful hiss for the vulgar proposal before it’s transformed into a whimper. Mo Ran rubs his hand against the inner curve of his hip where his thigh meets perfect body, offering to wander further just like he did before. He shifts under Mo Ran’s hand, granting him the blessing of continuing his exploration. He palms Chu Wanning’s cock before letting his fingers slip further between Chu Wanning legs, pressing lightly in ask of an invitation.

Suddenly Chu Wanning’s eyes snap open and he says, “Blow out the candle.”

Mo Ran does as he’s told. He goes to blow out the candle. The second he’s about to, Chu Wanning suddenly says, “Never mind. Don't.”

Mo Ran swallows his breath and asks, “Leave it lit?”

“Yes” a firm voice returns to him. Mo Ran smiles and returns to his indecisive husband still covered by the blankets. He draws them back and slides in under next to Chu Wanning. Before he can settle Chu Wanning says, “Wine.”

Mo Ran rolls and passes him the wine. He takes another heavy drink.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Mo Ran asks. “This can be our wine.”

Chu Wanning pauses and looks at the jar. “What kind is it again?”

“Pear blossom wine,” Mo Ran replies with a smile. He leans over to peck a kiss on Chu Wanning’s cheek. It's  obscenely chaste for what Mo Ran just said he wanted to do.

Under the blankets Chu Wanning’s leg shifts, gliding against Mo Ran’s. It's lightning passing through him where they touch, finally the feeling of bare skin against bare skin. 

Mo Ran takes a sip of the wine too trying to quell the ever growing excitement within him.

“Come here,” he says setting the bottle aside. Chu Wanning leans inwards allowing Mo Ran’s arms to wrap around him. His hand rests against Mo Ran’s hip, light and ticklish. A mirror of where Mo Ran’s hand was just passing over Chu Wanning’s skin. Mo Ran exhales deeply in contentment.

He presses a kiss to Chu Wanning’s forehead and down his cheek. When he reaches his lips he seductively whispers, “Do you want to make love, Wanning?”

A nod and a murmured “Yes” that smells sweet with Chu Wanning’s haitang scent and tastes sweet with wine.

When Mo Ran wakes, Chu Wanning isn’t next to him. Instead he sits by the window watching the lingering dew glistening in the sun. Once more he’s wrapped in pristine, white robes. Next to him is a tray of food clearly carried all the Mengpo Hall. It’s stacked with all the foods Mo Ran had eaten in previous days. Chu Wanning took notice and made sure to pick his favorites. It doesn’t go unmissed by Mo Ran.

Chu Wanning picks at a bowl of sliced fruit, slowly raising a piece to his lips unaware of his husband awake and watching him.

“Morning,” Mo Ran says walking over to him and sitting down. He adjusts the blanket draped over his shoulders to cover himself. “Did I sleep in?”

“No,” Chu Wanning replies. “I woke up early. Xue Zhengyong summoned me.”

Mo Ran picks up a bowl of rice and starts shovelling it into his mouth. “Oh?”

“Tianyin Pavilion spoke with the people who were turned into chess pieces. It’s confirmed that it was Xu Shuanglin trying to bring back Luo Fenghua. There’s evidence he has ties to Nangong Xu. Nangong Liu wants me to go back now to lead the Shadow Guard until Tianyin Pavilion is certain Ye Wangxi has nothing to do with this.”

Mo Ran’s heart drops and he lowers the bowl. He’s happy here in this little paradise they’re building together. “And?” he asks doubtfully.

Chu Wanning picks up another piece of fruit and takes a bite. “I’m going to go.”

“You’re not healed yet.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Wanning…”

Chu Wanning looks at Mo Ran and the hardness melts away. He purses his lips and says, “I have to.”

“I understand.” He understands Chu Wanning’s commitments to others over his own wellbeing and he hates it. “And I’m…?”

“You can come with me,” Chu Wanning says. “Or you can stay here. Finish the pavilion.”

There’s something odd in Chu Wanning’s voice. It’s flat, and the way he stares out at the dewy grass is forcefully blank.

“What do you want me to do?” Mo Ran asks.

“I want you to be safe.”

“Is it not safe back at Rufeng?” Mo Ran asks. “Should Mama stay here?”

“She should for now,” Chu Wanning agrees. He doesn’t speak to if it’s safe for Mo Ran.

Suddenly it clicks in Mo Ran’s head that Chu Wanning doesn’t want to be separated as badly and Mo Ran wants to stay by his side. At the same time, Chu Wanning would rather take separation to risking Mo Ran’s life if there is danger. Even after everything, after Mo Ran has proved himself, Chu Wanning is still worried about him.

“If I stayed here, would you promise to come back?” Mo Ran asks. “Move in with me here? At least for a little while. An escape as newlyweds.”

Chu Wanning eats another melon slice in answer.

“I’m coming with you,” Mo Ran decides. He lays his hand on Chu Wanning’s thigh. “And then when they figure out the Shadow Guard, we’ll come back.”

“I have obligations to Rufeng Sect.”

Mo Ran tilts his head and nuzzles his nose against Chu Wanning’s cheek. “I know. You’re Nangong Si’s shizun and apparently leader of the Shadow Guard. But you’re not bound to them. You’re not chained up unable to leave. Plenty of elders travel and live away from their sects, and their disciples take pilgrimages to them. You’ll be the mysterious old man on the highest peak of the back of the mountain of a sect he’s not part of. Can you think of anything sexier than the mystery of that?”

Something flickers in Chu Wanning’s expression. There’s a hint of surprise, as though he’s never considered himself having a choice of leaving. It’s more than mere obligation. Stronger. More aggrieved. As though he, like Mo Ran, felt chained to the sect with an invisible knife to his throat.

It vanishes the second it’s visible.

“Watch who you’re calling old” Chu Wanning hisses reproachfully. Mo Ran laughs and wraps his arms around his husband, landing a big kiss on his cheek with enough force to make him scrunch his nose. But the next kiss he meets Mo Ran and returns it. Chu Wanning’s kisses now feel like a natural part of how they intersect rather than him desperately trying to figure out what to do.

“We’ll go back to Rufeng Sect until everything’s figured out,” Mo Ran promises. “And then we’ll figure it out from there. It’s you and me, no matter what. Even if there’s a sea of fire, we’ll walk through the flames together, baobei.”

The two sit together eating breakfast leaning against each other and musing about what their future will look like after they leave Sisheng Peak. Somehow they always find themselves returning to Sisheng Peak no matter what versions of themselves they imagine.

In the distance a frog loudly ribbits. Chu Wanning scoffs and Mo Ran when he tries to make a bet on if he or the frog ribbits louder, but still a smile curls his lips. It’s the first true smile Mo Ran has seen from the man, a smile that extends from the center outwards in embarrassed joy at his husband’s childish antics instead of a slight curl at the edges of his mouth in obscured amusement. Mo Ran smiles too, a huge grin as he wraps his arm around Chu Wanning’s shoulder to hold him nearer.

Ten months later

Mo Ran sits on the high platform of Sin and Virtue with the other elders as the disciples of Sisheng Peak attend communal training. He's jittery. Although he's been an elder for nearly a month, he hasn't sat with all the other elders yet. He knows he looks like a round faced baby at a mere twenty years old compared to the others. He looks around, anxious and excited. From below one of his three disciples, a thin girl barely eight years old, waves up at him. He waves back to her with a grin. 

After everything concluded, Xue Zhengyong offered Mo Ran and Chu Wanning a place in the sect. A permeate one, complete with titles and the pavilion as a place to call home. Chu Wanning refused the titles saying he's still an elder of Rufeng Sect and Nangong Si’s shizun, but for Mo Ran the choice wasn't that simple. His heart has never been at home in Rufeng. Only blood and a name he does not hold as his own bound him there, whereas Sisheng Peak has felt like home from the moment he woke up. The people, the place, the sense of safety and reassurance. All of it is home. He agonized over it, his husband or his home, before Chu Wanning saw and told him to accept Xue Zhengyong’s offer. They could make it work. Mo Ran followed him, so he will follow Mo Ran.

Now every ten days Chu Wanning abandons Mo Ran for Rufeng Sect, disappearing for exactly two nights before Mo Ran wakes up next to him once more. And once a month Nangong Si shows up with Ye Wangxi and his wolves to stay for several days and train in the mountains with his shizun. Mo Ran is left in the pavilion they fixed together watching over the red lotuses with the dog the two of them adopted on the way to Jincheng Lake to get Mo Ran a holy weapon.

And Mo Ran is an elder with a small herd of children most other sects would deem too poor or weak or otherwise unfit to cultivate. He'll soon usurp Xuanji Elder’s title as the garbage collector but he's proud of himself for it. He'll show the world these children are worthy of being scooped from the dirt and treated equal to everyone else.

The morning announcements conclude and everyone falls into stretches before drills. Mo Ran is supposed to be watching his disciples from above for mistakes, and he does, but he can't help but glance in the direction of the steps. Chu Wanning left him two nights ago and should be returning today. He hoped Chu Wanning would arrive at daylight and Mo Ran would wake up next to him, but sometimes he’s too hopeful. Sometimes Chu Wanning is delayed a little.

He sits impatiently through the morning drills. And a brief meeting with the other elders. Xuanji Elder takes the time to ask after Mo Ran’s feelings being a shizun. He’s taken Mo Ran under his wing in recent weeks. Perhaps because Mo Ran is accepting the disciples that would otherwise be relegated to him or left shizunless and he pities him, or perhaps because he sees the young man trying his best and can’t help but take a big-brotherly role in guiding him. Normally Mo Ran appreciates the guidance, but today he writhes inside wanting to go wait for Chu Wanning. He has no time for a single other soul except Chu Wanning.

Xue Meng makes Mo Ran want to die inside when he grabs him by the arm and drags him to the side to ask if he wants to come with him to Jiangdong Hall in a few days to meet their heir and build ties between the two sects. As an elder of Sisheng Peak and a Nangong, Mo Ran suddenly holds far more authority in the cultivation world than the chained, starving child ever dared dream of.. Wanting to end the conversation quickly, Mo Ran agrees without thinking. He’s rewarded with a hard slap on the back and a promise to take him down to Wuchang Town to split a spicy hotpot.

Finally, finally, after what feels like an eternity Mo Ran sprints to the head of the stairs. He bounces on his toes as he waits, eyes peeled for a figure in white. In his hands he cradles a pot of pear blossom wine to gift his husband.

Although this has become a ritual relived every ten days, Mo Ran can’t help the way his heart races and butterflies flutter in his stomach. Each time Chu Wanning leaves, Mo Ran dies a little inside. Night washes over him and winter descends in his heart. Each time Chu Wanning returns it’s as though Spring has awoken and the world has returned to life. He never thought it would be possible to love someone so deeply and even an hour apart makes Mo Ran’s heart ache.

Mo Ran spots him far below, a tiny white speck some 400 steps below. He raises the hem of his robes and runs down the steps so fast he loses track of his feet and only trust in himself is enough to keep him from crashing down the stairs to become the bloody smear he joked about months and months before.

Chu Wanning sees him coming. He catches sight of the blue and silver barreling down the dark steps towards him. Chu Wanning walks faster, ascending the steps as fast as a quick walk will allow without breaking into a run

When they meet they crash hard, Mo Ran slamming into Chu Wanning enough to make him stumble back a step. Mo Ran catches him before he trips, transforming the momentum of their collision into picking Chu Wanning up and spinning him. His white robes flare out around them in the same way a flower unfurls its petals.

Chu Wanning’s lips on his, kissing him midspin. Mo Ran kisses him back, closing his eyes and letting the world shrink and still into only the two of them and only this moment. His entire world is Chu Wanning, the man who chose him, protected him, and no matter what, returns to him.