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"Ugh, there he goes."

Lan Wangji glanced over his shoulder. Behind him, cultivators from every sect bustled to and fro as they boarded their horses and packed their gear for today's hunt.

"Mm, I thought I smelled something rotting."

In the middle of this industrious crowd two young men were standing idle. They were both on the shorter and slimmer side, and their light blue robes were ill-fitting in several places; they were Lan Sect disciples.

As Lan Wangji watched, the boy on the left shook his head and leaned towards his compatriot.

"I'm amazed the flowers the girls were throwing earlier didn't all wither the moment he rode by," the boy said, and the two of them laughed.

Lan Wangji clenched his jaw and turned away. The Jin servant he had just been ignoring shifted awkwardly as his focus returned to her. She was one of many staffing the stable here at the base of Baifeng Mountain and likely did not appreciate his random lapse in attention; Lan Wangji chided himself internally and passed over his horse's reins into her outstretched hand.

"Thank you," he remembered to say. The servant bowed deeply and did not reply, nor even meet his eyes.

Lan Wangji sighed.

"I'd heard the rumors, but they really don't do it justice," the boy on the right continued. "He really does smell like death."

The two of them were standing in Lan Wangji's way: stalled in the middle of the nearest doorway leading out of the stable. Their faces were unfamiliar to him. This was not as uncommon as it once was - the Lan Clan had recruited new members from the smaller subsidiary sects in Gusu after the devastation of Sunshot and Lan Wangji had yet to encounter many of these fresh outer disciples. It was possible that these boys had not been invited to night hunt with the inner Lan Clan members before today.

Lan Wangji was unimpressed.

"It's probably hurting his marriage prospects more than the demonic cultivation, honestly," the young man said. "What qianyuan wants to fuck a corpse?"

"And apparently before this he used to smell like dirt and liquor! So boring and unattractive! But compared to what he smells like now . . . I bet they're wishing he still smelled like dirt," his friend replied. "Now he smells like - like a bloated corpse left to marinate in the Jiang swamps."

This aspiring poet laughed and pointed towards the crowd moving past in front of them. If it had not already been clear, the subject of their gossip was immediately made evident. Strolling leisurely across the path in front of them, bow on his back and blindfold still tied over his eyes, was Wei Ying.

"Ugh, standing downwind is torture," the boy muttered. Lan Wangji was now so close behind him that he could have reached out and smacked him. "He's making my eyes water."

His friend elbowed him, and said, "Maybe this is the great secret of his demonic cultivation, huh? He stinks so badly that the fierce corpses think he's one of - "

"Do not gossip."

Both delinquents jumped and turned towards Lan Wangji, nearly smacking their foreheads together in the process. Their scents, previously muffled under the smell of the stable, spiked and soured as they bowed.

"Hanguang-jun," the pair of them said, and the scent of spoiled wheat and rice coated the inside of Lan Wangji's nose and tongue. The two of them were clearly young - it was possible that they had only formed golden cores recently and were still unused to the extra dimension that had awakened in their scents. Cultivation enriched a qianyuan's or kunze's innate scent and merged it with their qi, allowing a cultivator to exert conscious control over the undertones of their scent. In the jianghu, this meant scent functioned as another layer of nonverbal communication, similar to body language. For younger uncoordinated cultivators, however, this often meant their scents flared and waned hand in hand with their emotions.

Had Lan Wangji not just listened to these two ridicule Wei Ying for his scent, he might have felt more sympathetic.

"The Lan Sect principles do not only apply within the sect walls," he said sternly. "Mind your conduct."

"Yes, Hanguang-jun," the two replied, bowing once more and deeper. Their hair covered their expressions, but their scents conveyed their upset clearly. The odor filling his mouth could be from surprise, or embarrassment; it could just as easily be anger at being caught. Everyone was quick to anger these days, it seemed, Lan Wangji himself included. Even now, the upset he felt was disproportionate to the relative harmlessness of the gossip these two had been spreading. Lan Wangji struggled to understand himself.

He exhaled. "And do not engage in idleness. Help your brothers," he eventually said, and gestured towards where many other Lan disciples were preparing to enter Baifeng just beyond the stable.

The two disciples followed his eye-line. "Yes, Hanguang-jun," they echoed, and, sensing an opportunity to escape, rose quickly and hurried to join their fellows.

They slipped through the bustle of cultivators and staff and disappeared as soon as they were able to into the crowd of other blue robed Lan disciples. Lan Wangji ground his teeth together as he watched them go, his eyes drifting to the dark figure that was still visible just beyond them. Wei Ying was a lone blot of darkness in the distance - distinct, and alone. All of the hundreds if not thousands of colorful cultivators now entering Baifeng Mountain had given Wei Ying a wide birth.

As Lan Wangji watched, the wind gusted over Wei Ying's body, billowing his robes out around his thin frame and tugging his long, red, ribbon out behind him. It would be impossible to smell him from so far away, and yet Lan Wangji could have sworn he could taste the scent of him along the roof of his mouth: Wei Ying smelled like death.

Like a bloated corpse left to -

"Wangji?"

The illusory scent of Wei Ying was dispelled by the gentle and long familiar scent of pine needles.

"Xiongzhang," Lan Wangji greeted flatly. He could not quite smell himself, but he imagined that some of his agitation had escaped into his scent. His brother, undoubtedly smelling it on him, followed his gaze to the obvious figure of Wei Ying now disappearing into the trees of Baifeng Mountain.

"Ah, Wangji, I hope you're not still mad at him," Lan Xichen continued softly.

It took not a moment to understand Lan Xichen's meaning and to recall the events of earlier that day. The voices of the gossiping disciples were momentarily forgotten under the remembered laughter of Wei Ying. It was still so clear in his mind: They had all been waiting for their chance to enter the archery range: many cultivators all still on horseback pressed tightly together in the streets. The Jiang contingent, helmed by Jiang Wanyin and Wei Ying, had been just ahead of them. Wei Ying had looked particularly striking in his dark robes. The ribbon in his hair had seemed to turn to fire where it caught the morning sunlight peeking between the spectators' balconies, and the sea of light-colored Lan disciples had parted like water around him as he had turned his horse and approached Lan Wangji. Wei Ying had smiled at him, laughing and proud, and then in front of everyone had loudly asked if he might steal Lan Wangji's forehead ribbon.

This was an insult twice over: first to ask to touch it at all, and second to then try to use it as a blindfold. As though the Lan forehead ribbon was any scrap of cloth! He could not believe that Wei Ying could have studied in the Cloud Recesses for so many months and yet retained so little. He was not unintelligent. Surely this slight had been intentional.

And yet how could it be?

More irritated now than he had been before, Lan Wangji stood up straighter. "I am not mad at him," he replied tersely.

"Of course not," his brother said. Lan Wangji saw Lan Xichen's lips begin to curl into a smile out of the corner of his eye and was not amused. "I only mean to check on you," Lan Xichen continued. "Wei Ying is very spirited, but he is not cruel. I would not want such a thing to damage your friendship."

"I know what he is," Lan Wangji replied. Spirited, indeed. What was this but the last in a long line of shenanigans from Wei Ying? From their very first meeting Wei Ying had proven himself a mischief maker. Wei Ying has pestered him endlessly during their days as disciples. Smuggling in alcohol. Interruptions during class. Harassing him in the Cold Springs. The bunnies.

The pornography.

Wei Ying's behavior today was nothing new. Lan Wangji was used to it. He was not mad.

His brother's good natured chiding abruptly became grating. I do not need you to explain Wei Ying to me, Lan Wangji thought but did not say. He stepped out from under the stable eave and into the common path, squinting at the brightness of the sunlight. To his left, the congregation of Lan disciples that he had spotted earlier was now breaking apart. Most disciples had finished boarding their horses and preparing their various talismans and flares, and were now mounting their swords in order to rise and fly into the hunting grounds. Lan Wangji had done his part as sect heir. There was no reason that he must remain here to see to the very last stragglers; Lan Xichen and the other senior sect members would take care of them.

Before he could proceed any farther, Lan Wangji felt the brush of Lan Xichen's fingers against his sleeve, and turned back to look at him.

Lan Xichen's smile had turned less teasing and more apologetic. "I am sorry for upsetting you." His scent, too, now floated mild and soothing on the breeze. "Be safe on your hunt. And do not do anything rash!" Here, Lan Xichen met his eyes and pressed his hand more firmly against Lan Wangji's arm. "Even a simple hunt such as this is not without danger. Do not make me have to tell shufu that Hanguang-jun was injured by a man-measuring snake."

Lan Wangji nodded. "Mm."

Lan Xichen smiled reassuringly. "Have fun, Wangji," he said, and let go. Lan Wangji turned to leave. Regardless of what Lan Xichen might wish, his agitation had not abated. He walked on his own two legs past the edge of the courtyard and into the brush at the base of the mountain instead of mounting his sword with his peers. He hoped despairingly that a longer walk might clear his mind of these torments.

-marinating in the Jiang swamps -

Lan Wangji pressed his boots more forcefully into the rocky path. Why had two boys gossiping unsettled him so? Do not speak ill of others. Do not be ill mannered. Do not spread rumors. Certainly their conduct was in violation of the Lan principles. They were undoubtedly speaking about Wei Ying behind his back. But these days, who wasn't speaking of Wei Ying? And not just the young disciples - Lan Wangji had even caught older and inner sect members gossiping, as much as they would like to pretend they did not. The Lan precepts left too much room for interpretation. Was it spreading rumors or speaking ill of someone if they were only talking about a fact they could all plainly see?

Do not slander.

But it was not slander. The worst part was that it was true.

Even now, Lan Wangji swore we could catch Wei Ying's scent on the brambles around him. The smell of death surrounded Wei Ying at all times. It was not an overpowering scent, no, not like the way some less courteous qianyuan cultivators chose to saturate their scents in an attempt to intimidate or boast. But it was constant. And pervasive. The longer Wei Ying lingered, the more the film of grave dirt started to accumulate at the back of one's tongue. The more each breath began to smell of rotten meat. At the flower banquet the previous day, Lan Wangji had watched a Jiang cultivator sitting just behind Wei Ying grow more and more nauseous the longer the dinner continued.

What had once been an acceptable nuisance during Sunshot now became intolerable.

-he used to smell like dirt and liquor!

Lan Wangji shook his head at no one and brushed a low hanging tree limb out of the way. That, had been untrue. Wei Ying had not smelled of dirt and liquor.

Before he had disappeared, Wei Ying had smelled . . .

Lan Wangji unconsciously took a deep breath as he remembered. Wei Ying had smelled like Yunmeng after rain. He had smelled like the sprawling path connecting the Cloud Recesses to Caiyi. He had smelled like earth, yes, but to call it dirt was intentionally reductive. When he laughed, Wei Ying smelled like freshly tilled soil, bursting with new life and the joy of spring. It reminded Lan Wangji of the trip he had taken with Lan Xichen when they were younger to see the farming towns that supplied the Cloud Recesses - like rolling fields under soft sunlight, unfurling in every direction as far as his eyes could see.

And when he was excited, Wei Ying smelled like fire. The exact flavor of his scent changed depending on what manner of excitement it was, but the spice that filled the air whenever he was particularly eager, or irritated, or mischievous was always very reminiscent of the alcohol he had loved to smuggle in. Lan Wangji had never tasted alcohol before, but through Wei Ying's scent he thought perhaps he could understand why Wei Ying went to such lengths for a taste of Emperor's Smile.

Lan Wangji had a secret fondness for this fiery aspect of Wei Ying's scent most of all. Shamefully, he often thought back to the time they had been trapped by the Xuanwu of Slaughter. After the terror of it all, there had been nothing to do but sit and wait for rescue, and in that indeterminate limbo, before Wei Ying's scent had turned sour with fever, that small cave had swelled with the scent of them both. Neither of them had bothered to control the strength of their scents while they had been fighting for their lives, and neither of them bothered to restrain them after, either. The damage was already done. Lan Wangji had felt drunk on the heady determination of Wei Ying's scent. And quietly, in his heart, he had imagined how well it must be mixing with sharp frost and subtle sandalwood of his own.

Nonetheless, regardless of Lan Wangji's own feelings, it was true that earth and alcohol was not a particularly refined scent. It was not a particularly Jiang scent, either. The main Jiang family all smelled vaguely of Lotus Pier; Jiang Yanli smelled like lotuses and hydrangeas, while Jiang Cheng smelled more like the lakes themselves. Jiang Fengmian, though Lan Wangji had never been around him enough to notice, had apparently smelled like the salts and spices Yunmeng used to cure fish. Yu Ziyuan, who had married into the Jiang, had by contrast smelled like ozone.

Thus, it had been very easy for even those not familiar with Wei Ying's parentage to immediately understand that he was not related to Jiang Cheng or Jiang Yanli by blood. Those looking to disparage Wei Ying's accomplishments would often mention his low brow scent in the same breath as they called him a servant's son.

But for the most part Wei Ying's scent was imply unremarkable. While such a scent might have been uncommon among their cohort of sect heirs and other distinguished young masters, it was perfectly acceptable among the Jiang themselves. The Jiang Sect had a long history of accepting and promoting cultivators from the surrounding Yunmeng towns, and as a result had a less defined scent than the rest of the Great Sects.

There had even been a few who had praised Wei Ying's scent. One embarrassing year, someone had decided to rank the scents of all the young masters in their generation - Wei Ying had placed fourth then.

Whatever fool had made the list had described his scent as musky and masculine.

Not the scent you would imagine for a kunze, Lan Wangji suddenly remembered reading, but indicative of Wei Wuxian's passionate nature. Perfect for a qianyuan looking for a challenge.

Lan Wangji increased his pace as he stomped through the trees. He had let his thoughts get away from him. He kicked out at the low undergrowth filling the path instead of going around it and immediately managed to snag his outer robe against thorns he had not noticed. The abrupt tug brought him suddenly, stumbling, to a halt, and he stepped back on one foot as he became unbalanced. He whipped Bichen free from her sheath as his other arm lifted to keep his balance and swung her forcefully around his body, cutting off the offending tendril and also a good chunk of the bushes around it. Released from the tether, he regained his balance and turned sharply behind himself. The thorny bush had been cut in half. The leaves he had so crudely separated from the tree overhead still fluttered through the air. Bichen's hilt was cold where he gripped it tightly.

He felt irrationally upset, and upset at himself for being so.

Lan Wangji re-sheathed his sword and turned back around. At least his ridiculousness had gone unwitnessed. He must get a handle on himself. Do not let your mind become clouded.

And what did these memories matter, anyway? The Wei Ying of the past was gone, and his old scent with him. He had come back from that months long disappearance changed. Frighteningly changed. Lan Wangji could not understand how something so intrinsic as a person's scent could be so radically altered. There were even rumors those first few days after his return that it had not been Wei Ying who had returned at all, but an imposter. Or that he had been turned into one of Wen Ruohan's fierce corpse puppets and sent to spy on them.

The rumors may have disappeared over time as the war raged on, but Wei Ying's new scent never did. It was a constant reminder of the path Wei Ying now walked on. No matter how much he smiled, or laughed, or caroused with the other men, the fact of his demonic cultivation hung like a black cloud over them all. He had set himself apart. This fetid scent, just like his continued refusal to carry his sword, marked him as distinctly other from the rest of the cultivators.

It was becoming harder for people to forgive. Did Wei Ying not see the way people looked at him? How could he do nothing? Could he not reign in his scent? Could he not abandon his flute and return to peace?

Around him, the wind abruptly stilled, and in the sudden absence of rustling leaves Lan Wangji found that he could hear that evil flute even now. The song he could hear did not sound demonic, but all the same Lan Wangji could hardly imagine someone other than Wei Ying taking the time to play music during a night hunt competition such as this.

Lan Wangji grit his teeth. Wei Ying must be nearby. Had he bothered to join the hunt at all, or had he spent the whole time idling and playing his flute like this? Lan Wangji would speak to him. He turned his ear towards the music and continued his way through the forest, pushing against trees which now grew thinner and shorter around him. A few chi ahead, there was a patch of bright sunlight where the forest parted and opened onto a small clearing.

It was here that Lan Wangji saw Wei Ying.

Along the opposite edge of the small clearing was a thick and sturdy tree, and it was along one of the low hanging branches of this tree that Wei Ying was reclining. He was lying on his back, one foot dangling in the air below and head propped up against the trunk as he played. The fingers of both hands moved lazily across the long, black form of Chenqing, which Wei Ying held against his lips.

Infuriatingly, Lan Wangji noticed that same black blindfold was still wrapped over Wei Ying's eyes. The carelessness! Had he walked blind all this way, through a dense forest teaming with yaoguai and other monsters? Did he think himself so invincible that even sight was unnecessary now?

Lan Wangji stepped forward into the sunlight just as Wei Ying lifted the flute away from his lips.

"Hello, friend," Wei Ying called out, rolling his head along the tree trunk to look towards Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji stopped where he stood, but Wei Ying made no further movement. In fact, he might have even settled more comfortably against the branch.

"Are you here for the night hunt?" Wei Ying continued. The wind lifted his hair from his face as he spoke, and Lan Wangji all at once realized the wind had been behind him this whole time. Could Wei Ying not smell him? Impossible. There was barely ten chi between them.

Then, was this yet another joke?

Or - Lan Wangji thought as his annoyance kindled into something more - did Wei Ying not remember his scent?

Lan Wangji took another step into the clearing. Wei Ying seemed to hear the grass rustle as he shortened the distance between them, and called out to him again.

"Are you looking for prey? You're not likely to find any monsters near me," Wei Ying said teasingly as a slow smile slide across his lips. His foot stilled where it had been swinging. "Unless there's another monster you're looking for?"

Lan Wangji stalked across the clearing until he came to stand beneath the tree Wei Ying was lying in. Wei Ying's foot was even with his chest. Lan Wangji stood there, staring up at the blindfolded eyes of Wei Ying, and felt overcome with some strange emotion. It was as though his very bones, or something deeper, now trembled with anticipation.

He was breathing hard. He swallowed, and tasted grave dirt. That damnable scent - it was filling him, until it seemed to be the only thing in the world. And yet even now he could parse no deeper meaning - no fear, no anger, no happiness, not even the scent of his siblings. Did they not scent him anymore? Did anyone?

Wei Ying shifted, breaking his unnatural stillness, and brought the flute closer to his lips.

There was a peony pinned to his lapel, Lan Wangji suddenly noticed. Thrown to him, by one of the admirers in the stands, during the procession?

Would it smell like her?

Or would it smell like Wei Ying? Like the flower Wei Ying had thrown him, which even now was cradled safely against his breast between the folds of his robes?

Wei Ying inhaled against the flute and Lan Wangji grabbed his leg. Lan Wangji pulled, unseating him and turning Wei Ying's breath into a single loud, screeching note from Chenqing. Wei Ying tumbled down from the tree, his far leg catching Lan Wangji's chest as he descended and bringing them both into the grass. Lan Wangji fell hard onto his back, and Wei Ying fell on top of him, legs landing sprawled over Lan Wangji's hips. Wei Ying pushed himself up with his left hand, digging it and the black flute it still closed in his fist into Lan Wangji's stomach. He swung his right hand wildly towards Lan Wangji, who caught it against his own bare palm and prevented Wei Ying from pulling it back again. Wei Ying tugged harder, and then shrugged his shoulders as though he was trying to dislodge the blindfold that still clung desperately over his eyes.

Lan Wangji stared at that blindfold as he felt his heart beat desperately against his ribs. He could still smell nothing beneath the corpse smell; Wei Ying's scent was as placid and flat as it had been when he entered the clearing.

Lan Wangji intercepted Wei Ying's other hand where it had moved to bring Chenqing to his lips again, dug his heels into the ground, and then with a great thrust of his hips flipped them over.

Wei Ying shouted as his back hit the ground. Wei Ying arched and tried to use their momentum to flip Lan Wangji over again but accomplished nothing more than elbowing Lan Wangji in the ribs. Lan Wangji had both hands around Wei Ying's wrists now, one in each hand, and he pressed them firmly against Wei Ying's own chest, his forearms pinning Wei Ying's forearms.

And still there was only the unchanging smell of death, death, death.

Was he not scared? Lan Wangji was scared of himself.

Wei Ying tucked one leg back from where they had fallen open over Lan Wangji's hips and aimed to kick him in the face. Lan Wangji ducked his head to the side and lifted his knee, digging it into Wei Ying's thigh and forcing his leg down into the dirt again, where he kept it pinned.

"Fuck off!" Wei Ying shouted. He thrashed again - with three of four limbs now immobilized, this accomplished nothing. "Who are you to bully me, hah!"

Wei Ying sounded angry and smelled of nothing. Lan Wangji did not understand. Even when he had Wei Ying literally in his grasp he still felt as though he was trying to catch a reflection in a darkened mirror. Like tearing down a screen and finding only empty space behind. A whole sense, just gone.

Wei Ying smelled like death; Wei Ying smelled like he was dead.

With a great swell of emotion, Lan Wangji realized he could not bear to smell it one second longer!

Lan Wangji planted his weight against Wei Ying's body and bent his head until he could touch his cheek to Wei Ying's jaw. Wei Ying jerked his head away, but Lan Wangji followed, rolling forward over top of him until he had trapped Wei Ying's face between his cheek and the dirt below them. Lan Wangji rubbed their faces together forcefully, dousing Wei Ying with his scent, and felt mad.

He had never before been so present in and yet disconnected from his body. He watched from outside himself as he scented Wei Ying aggressively, dragging his nose along Wei Ying's jaw, over his lips, across his cheekbone. There was no space between their faces; Wei Ying exhaled and Lan Wangji caught his breath against his tongue.

There was no space. Lan Wangji's forehead ribbon was pressed against Wei Ying's cheek.

Lan Wangji realized his mouth had fallen open - he could feel his chest heave as he panted for breath but could hear nothing past the blood rushing in his ears. Wei Ying was tense and still beneath him; Lan Wangji could not hope to parse what he might be feeling. Wei Ying's unchanging scent was disappearing under an avalanche of snow and sandalwood. Lan Wangji had released so much of his own scent that he could smell himself. His scent glands ached. He felt drunk.

The scent glands along his wrist began to throb in time with those in his neck and Lan Wangji loosened his hold on Wei Ying's hands so that he might rub his wrists along Wei Ying's. Both of their arms were trapped in the tight cavern between their chests and the back of Lan Wangji's hands chafed against the fabric of his robes as he forced their wrists over each other. They were pressed together from thigh to jaw and still Lan Wangji dreamed of going father - of becoming one body with Wei Ying, of eating him whole.

All at once, Wei Ying relaxed.

The sudden change shocked Lan Wangji from his fugue. He unpeeled his cheek from Wei Ying's and pulled back to look at him only to find Wei Ying already looking back.

The blindfold had been pushed above his eyes; in his fervor, Lan Wangji must have knocked it askew.

They stared wide-eyed at each other. Lan Wangji did not release his hands, nor did he move his knee from where it still pinned Wei Ying's thigh to the ground.

"Lan Zhan?" Wei Ying asked breathlessly. Lan Wangji did not know how to answer. Wei Ying's lips parted and his tongue darted out to wet them. They were both panting open-mouthed now. "What's going on?"

Lan Wangji knew how to answer that even less. He had no excuses. He was a fool, and a thief. He had seized an opportunity recklessly and had damned himself in a single instant.

Wei Ying was still staring at him. His eyes were dark; his pupils had nearly eclipsed his irises. Wei Ying swallowed, and Lan Wangji's eyes slid from Wei Ying's face to watch his throat bob.

The skin was pink and raised over the scent gland on his neck - rubbed raw.

Wei Ying saw him watching. The edges of Wei Ying's lips lifted.

"You're scenting me? Do I really smell that bad?" Wei Ying laughed. "To think I could drive the clear-headed Hanguang-jun to such wildness! Is my wicked scent defiling the mountain air? Well!" Wei Ying exclaimed. "Who am I to stand in the way of Hanguang-jun's battle against evil!"

Wei Ying tilted his chin up, and tipped his head to the side.

Lan Wangji physically felt the blood rush to his face. Wei Ying had bared his neck to him. He abruptly felt weak and felt his arms tremble as they supported him above Wei Ying. His legs cramped.

Wei Ying was still watching him from the corner of his eye. He was not so wide-eyed now; indeed, his eyes curved into crescents as he made eye contact with Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji swallowed hard, interrupting the rasping sound of his panting. He must get a hold of himself. Wei Ying had told him to continue; teasing or not, Lan Wangji would not deny him.

Lan Wangji leaned forward and haltingly pressed their cheeks together once more. Their faces were slick with sweat. He nudged Wei Ying's jaw, scenting him slowly, and rolled his head further to the side so that he might press the scent glands in their necks together directly.

Wei Ying quivered at the contact - a full body shiver that had him sighing on the exhale. "Ah, Lan Zhan, that actually . . . " Wei Ying melted somehow further into the ground. "That feels really good," he murmured, and on his next inhale his chest began to rumble with a quiet purr.

Lan Wangji did not understand what was happening. He swallowed.

"Wei Yi - "

"A-Xian!"

Lan Wangji jolted. The muscle in his neck spasmed with pain as he whipped to look behind himself.

Lan Wangji made frightened eye contact with Jiang Yanli, who had just emerged from the treeline, and felt light-headed with fear.

"Shijie!" Wei Ying shouted. He pulled a hand free from Lan Wangji's suddenly slack grip and slapped at Lan Wangji's chest, who slid back from over top of him. As Lan Wangji tried to rise, Wei Ying kicked free the leg that had been pinned still under Lan Wangji's knee, and Lan Wangji fell onto his hip and then his ass instead.

"Don't come -! What are you - ?" Wei Ying squawked. He sat up sharply at the waist but only managed to rise halfway before his robes, caught under Lan Wangji's bulk, tightened around his shoulders and forced him back onto his elbows.

All that Lan Wangji had ignored suddenly rushed to the forefront of his mind. He could only imagine the horror-show Jiang Yanli must be seeing in front of her - a violent qianyuan had her brother, an unmated kunze, pinned down beneath him in some secluded clearing. Lan Wangji's stomach swooped. He was sitting between Wei Ying's legs. He crawled back on his hands and put some distance between them, which in turn finally allowed Wei Ying to roll off his back and rise to his knees.

In the time it had taken them to become untangled, Jiang Yanli had reached them. Lan
Wangji looked up at a haphazardly painted-on smile and breathed in the scent of lotus - embarrassingly, he could only barely smell it under the scent of sandalwood that still dominated the air.

"Lan Wangji," Jiang Yanli greeted.

"Mai - Maiden Jiang," Lan Wangji choked.

"A-Xian, I was walking nearby when I heard your flute." Jiang Yanli floated gently to her knees and reached for one of Wei Ying's hands. "I heard it cut off suddenly; I thought you might be in trouble." She was staring intently at Wei Ying. She did not look at Lan Wangji.

"Shijie! Of course I'm fine!" Wei Ying stammered. He leaned closer and grabbed her hand with both of his own. "Worry about yourself! Were you walking around Baifeng Mountain all alone?"

Jiang Yanli smiled and patted his hand. The tension in her expression had not dissipated. "No, I had an escort. But A-Xian, we're talking about you right now."

"Ah, what's there to talk about!" Wei Ying whined, and slumped to the side. "Look, look, Shijie, even if you don't believe me, what trouble could I get into with the great Hanguang-jun around to save me?"

"What trouble indeed," Jiang Yanli replied, and the cloying scent of lotuses grew ever more oppressive in the air. She opened her mouth to continue but paused as something caught her eye behind them.

Lan Wangji turned to look and closed his eyes in defeat. Descending now on Shuoyue to join them was Lan Xichen, and just behind him none other than Jin Guangyao, his brother's unpleasant friend.

Lan, Jiang, and Jin. Lan Wangji fervently imagined Nie Mingjue plunging down from the heavens, too, and sending Baxia straight through his neck.

"Maiden Jiang," Xiongzhang greeted respectfully, and Lan Wangji resigned himself to open his eyes again. Lan Xichen stepped lightly onto the grass and bowed, sheathing Shuoyue as he rose. "What a pleasant surprise to find you here."

"Zewu-jun," Jiang Yanli returned courteously. "And Lianfang-zun." The man in question bowed and greeted Jiang Yanli in return as he stepped off his own sword. Together, he and Lan Xichen walked sedately across the few chi separating them and came to stand near their group on the ground.

Lan Wangji could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Lan Xichen stumbled on his final step, an abnormal break in his composure as damning as though he had gasped aloud, and Lan Wangji curled his numb fingers into fists in his lap. The pleasant scent of pine trees curdled and turned acrid in his nose, joining the sour lotus smell and never-ending sandalwood odor already there. Lan Wangji swallowed, hard, and he forced himself to look up and meet his brother's eyes.

He could not remember the last time he had seen such an expression on Lan Xichen's face, subdued as it must look to other people. Lan Xichen's dumbfounded eyes jumped from his curled fists, to his disheveled robes and hunched posture, to his ears - flushed red - before stopping pointedly on his forehead.

Lan Wangji reached bloodless fingers up to smooth his forehead ribbon back into place; it had been crooked.

As he did, Lan Wangji caught sight of Jin Guangyao's eyebrows arching briefly towards his hair line before his expression returned to neutral pleasantry, and it was perhaps this - to have his shame witnessed by some outsider - that was the most humiliating of all.

"I am relieved to meet you here as well, Zewu-jun," Jiang Yanli continued pleasantly. "Are you here for Hanguang-jun?"

"I am, I have been looking for him," Lan Xichen replied. Lan Wangji stared down at the hem of his brother's robes. Do not do anything rash, he recalled, and burned with shame.

Lan Xichen did not address him. "I heard Wei-gonzi's flute and thought, where Master Wei is, Wangji is likely to be also." Lan Xichen continued, smiling and folding his hands together. "Though - I did not imagine I would find them quite like this."

Wei Ying looked from his sister to Lan Xichen and frowned. "Like what?" Wei Ying interjected.

Lan Wangji ground his teeth together. Must he try to run from punishment? Was it not obvious what like this meant?

Wei Ying stood from where he had been kneeling, brushing the dirt from his robes, and extended a hand to his sister below him. "Like what?" Wei Ying continued loudly. "Lan Zhan was reprimanding me, as usual, there's no need for such fuss about it!"

Jiang Yanli accepted his offered hand and rose to join those standing. Lan Wangji remained alone on the ground. Wei Ying looked down at him and frowned, shifting on his feet, but in the end did not extend a hand to help him up.

"Reprimanding?" Jiang Yanli asked, and Wei Ying turned back to her.

"Yes, you know - " Wei Ying crossed his arms and shrugged his shoulders. "We were - fighting."

He could not seem to say it seriously. His cheeks flushed as his mouth closed over the last syllable.

None of the onlookers took him seriously either. Lan Wangji could not understand why Wei Ying even bothered to pretend - anyone that could smell would immediately know the truth of things. Wei Ying was coated, head to toe, in the scent of Lan Wangji's desire, and the tenor of the sandalwood musk that still dominated the air made it clear that it had not been anger on Lan Wangji's mind. Xiongzhang, Jiang Yanli, Jin Guangyao - they could all tell just how Lan Wangji had been dreaming of possessing Wei Ying.

Lan Wangji suddenly wanted to cry.

"Ah," Lan Xichen began. He turned his gaze from Wei Ying to Jiang Yanli, who was standing right beside her brother, and then to Jin Guangyao. "Well . . ."

"There is no need to conceal these things," Jin Guangyao picked up where Lan Xichen seemed unable to continue. "And there is no need to be embarrassed - " Lan Wangji thought he sounded insufferably patronizing, and was relieved to feel a spark of anger under all of the suffocating shame "- What hot-blooded man has not had a dalliance or two in his youth? Who can blame - "Jin Guangyao suddenly paused, and then inhaled. "Ah, Xiongzhang, welcome."

This was becoming a scene out of Lan Wangji's nightmares; there, standing at the edge of the clearing close to where Jiang Yanli had originally emerged was Jin Zixuan.

The crowd turned to greet Jin Zixuan who awkwardly bowed back in turn. Amidst this chorus of greetings, Lan Xichen pressed his hand to Lan Wangji's shoulder, and, catching his brother's gaze, Lan Wangji rose from the ground and stood.

"Why are you here!" Wei Ying shouted instead of greeting Jin Zixuan properly.

Jin Zixuan gaped. "Why am I here? I am Maiden Jiang's escort for today's hunt! Why are -" Lan Wangji saw the exact moment Jin Zixuan caught scent of what had happened in this clearing; he drew himself up and pointed at Wei Ying. "What have you been doing here, huh!"

"That's none of your business! I don't have to spea -" Jiang Yanli quietly put her hand on Wei Ying's arm and Wei Ying cut himself off, mid-tirade.

Jin Guangyao chuckled. "Thank you. There is no need to come to blows over this," he said evenly. Lan Wangji imagined he, too, must be amplifying his own scent in an attempt to calm them all, but couldn't smell it under the deluge of everyone else. Jin Guangyao gestured broadly with his sleeve towards Wei Ying, and said, "In fact, let us put this whole thing behind us."

Jiang Yanli turned to look at him; she took a step closer to Jin Guangyao and, in doing so, put herself further in front of Wei Ying.

"Ah, one moment, Lianfang-zun," Jiang Yanli replied lightly. Her mild and respectful tone demanded the attention of their entire group, including Jin Zixuan, who had seemed like he might return to shouting. "Let us not be too hasty. You have spoken of affection between men, but nothing of designation. A-Xian is a kunze. Hanguang-jun, a qianyuan."

That was undeniably true. In fact, almost all of them were qianyuan. Lan Wangji and his brother, Lan Xichen, were both qianyuan. Jin Zixuan, the young heir to the Jin Sect, was the same. Even Jin Guangyao was a qianyuan. Out of their little assembly, only Wei Ying and his sister beside him, Jiang Yanli, were kunze.

Lan Wangji marveled for a moment at Jiang Yanli's strength. He was certain that she had been very aware this whole time that she and Wei Ying were the only kunze here.

"He is a kunze," Jin Guangyao agreed, and continued amicably, "though he is so spirited I think people often forget."

"That is their own fault, then," Jiang Yanli returned. "As you well know, our dispositions have no impact on our designations."

Jin Guangyao's smile widened. "Of course," Jin Guangyao conceded; his dark eyes were roughly level with Jiang Yanli's own - the both of them almost a full head shorter than the other qianyuan around them. "But equally we must agree that our designations do not define us," Jin Guangyao continued genially, folding his hands together beneath his sleeves. "Does being kunze automatically absolve Wei-gongzi from all blame? Is it not condescending to assume Wei Wuxian had no part in all this, just because he is kunze?"

"You misunderstand me," Jiang Yanli replied. "I am not looking to absolve anyone. I only mean to say - passion such as this tends to leave a much deeper stain on the kunze than the qianyuan, hm? I only want to protect my brother from future harm."

"Harm! What harm?" Wei Ying interrupted. His expression, what of it was visible as he leaned around and over Jiang Yanli, darkened with frustration. "What has Lan Zh- "

Jin Zixuan seized upon this opportunity to re-enter the conversation. "Are you stupid?!" he shouted. "Have you no face? You were rolling around with an unmated qianyuan, weren't you?!"

"You make it sound like we were having sex!" Wei Ying shouted back at an even louder volume. "Are we not both fully clothed? Does the little peacock not know that to have sex first you have to - "

"How dare you! Look at yourself! Even now the collar of your robe is loose!"

Wei Ying grabbed blindly at the collar in question. The top tie had been pulled open, it was true, though the resulting gap in his robes had revealed nothing more than the base of his collarbones. Jin Zixuan's pungent scent - agar wood incense, like his father's - swelled in victory regardless. "We weren't having sex!" Wei Ying shouted. "If you don't believe me, ask Hanguang-jun!"

Lan Wangji froze. All eyes at once turned to him. Lan Wangji's nerves, which had finally begun to settle, returned in full force, and he felt sweat pool at the base of his spine. "No," he said - no, we weren't having sex. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Was he supposed to say more? Should he describe it all in detail? Why should Wei Ying call upon his testimony? Was he not just as guilty - if not guiltier - than Wei Ying?

Lan Xichen watched these thoughts spill across his face and had mercy on him. "Let us not make more of this than it already is," he said, and Lan Wangji sighed in his heart as everyone turned to face his brother instead.

"As though smelling like that while he's unmated isn't bad enough on its own," Jin Zixuan muttered caustically. Everyone ignored him. This was, of course, the crux of the problem - regardless of the . . . extent of his actions, Lan Wangji had laid bare his desire to claim Wei Ying, who we was neither mated nor betrothed to - but, as everyone had already understood this, equally no one felt the need to address Jin Zixuan stating the obvious.

Jiang Yanli turned to face Wei Ying again. She caught his hands in her own and tugged until he turned to face her as well. "A-Xian, earlier - you said Hanguang-jun was reprimanding you, is that right?" Jiang Yanli tipped her head to the side to look up into Wei Ying's face, spilling her hair over her shoulder and partly obscuring her expression. The tumble of her hair also propelled the scent of lotus into the air again: duller now, and more soothing, but no less potent. "Was he . . . hurting you?"

Wei Ying's eyebrows dipped. "Lan Zhan?" he said. He sounded confused. Lan Wangji inhaled deeply through his nose, hoping to catch some trace of his usually so omnipresent scent, but smelled nothing but incense, and lotus, and pine. Wei Ying shook his head, eyes flickering to the crowd of spectators clearly still listening, and continued, "No, no, of course not."

"You're sure?" Jiang Yanli pressed. "It's only . . . I see that Hanguang-jun has scented you a great deal, but it doesn't seem like you've scented him." She paused, and Lan Wangji saw her hands flex around Wei Ying's. He also saw Lan Xichen turn sharply to look at him out of the corner of his eye; that mellow pine scent turned bitter against Lan Wangji's tongue, and his burning shame flashed to cold dread. He hadn't realized - it was damning enough that so many of his peers now knew he wanted to . . . have Wei Ying - he hadn't realized that Jiang Yanli had also inferred that Lan Wangji had been the one to - that Wei Ying hadn't -

Jin Guangyao's eyes moved from Lan Xichen to Lan Wangji; he understood, too, then.

"What? What does that matter?" Wei Ying replied. His lips turned up briefly at the corners like he wanted to smile, and his eyes darted again towards the crowd of spectators. "Why are we talking about my scent?" he said incredulously.

"Ah, A-Xian," Jiang Yanli said. Lan Wangji did not know why she continued to talk around the issue instead of accusing him directly, but he was grateful, and ashamed to be grateful. "I just want to be sure Hanguang-jun wasn't harassing you," Jiang Yanli said mildly, and Wei Ying's frown deepened. "That he wasn't . . . hurting you?"

Jin Guangyao opened his mouth -

"Oh! Shijie -" Wei Ying hissed; he had seemed to understand the implication this time " - no, no, no, Hanguang-jun wouldn't - Lan Zhan would never do anything like that -"

Lan Wangji stared at Wei Ying's face. Surely he must be lying? Even if at the end he had seemed . . . happy, that did not excuse all Lan Wangji had done before. Lan Wangji wished desperately to catch either Wei Ying's scent or his gaze, that he might better understand Wei Ying's actions.

"You're sure?" Jiang Yanli returned quietly. "If he was -"

"Shijie!" Wei Ying moaned again, "Why are you asking me this? Nothing happened anyway! All Lan Zhan did was scent me, there's no need for -"

Lan Xichen turned and lifted his eyebrows. Lan Wangji shifted his weight uneasily under his brother's gaze - he had no answers to the unspoken questions in Lan Xichen's expression, whatever they must be, willing neither to lie nor to undermine Wei Ying. Lan Xichen's scent had begun to flatten back to its usual calm at Wei Ying's denials, and Lan Wangji almost wished that it wouldn't.

"Still, A-Xian," Jiang Yanli interrupted softly, "you're my brother, and a disciple of the Jiang Sect. Even if it was just scenting, you're within your rights to ask for -"

"No, no, no, I don't want anything from Hanguang-jun," Wei Ying protested. "I don't want anything from anyone! Shijie, the spectacle we've made. . ."

Jiang Yanli's posture softened, and she lifted her head and smiled; Lan Wangji's stomach rolled. "You and Lan Wangji were just having fun together then?" she said.

Wei Ying pulled his hands free from Jiang Yanli's grasp and pressed them over his face. "Shijie, please!"

Jiang Yanli laughed quietly and turned over her shoulder. She looked to Lan Xichen, who met her gaze, and sighed, "I am relieved to know our brothers are such good friends, Maiden Jiang."

"Indeed," Jiang Yanli said tenderly, and then turned her eyes towards Jin Guangyao. An understanding seemed to pass between them; without appearing to move at all, Jin Guangyao's expression suddenly eased, and Lan Wangji realized all at once just how cold the previous seemingly genial smile had been.

The concentrated mixture of scents that had polluted this clearing was dissipating; Lan Wangji breathed and felt light headed, unsteady. His fingers were still numb.

"How fortunate," Jin Guangyao said. "Perhaps - "

"Is that it?" Jin Zixuan interjected. The crowd all stilled at once; Lan Wangji had almost managed to forget about Jin Zixuan, standing as he was a few steps behind Jiang Yanli and generally outside of their group. "Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were caught rolling around in the grass together - are there to be no consequences for either of them?" he demanded.

"Of course not," Lan Xichen replied immediately. Any fleeting levity had been wiped from his face. "Wangji acted in a manner unbecoming of his designation, his station, and in violation of our precepts. He will of course be duly punished when we return home."

A relief - Lan Wangji was relieved. The tension melted from his muscles even as his nausea doubled; he swallowed thickly. It was right that he would be held accountable for his abhorrent actions today. Wei Ying's eyes darted to Lan Wangji's face, but Lan Wangji did not meet them, and instead let his gaze fall to the ground.

"Good," Jin Zixuan replied. There was an awkward pause as he audibly floundered for what to say; perhaps he had not expected Lan Xichen to agree with him. "Make sure you do. No respectable kunze will tolerate this kind of behavior in a mate."

His tone implied that he was only offering friendly advice, but his words could hardly have been more rude. It was incredibly presumptuous to think he had any say in how the Lan Sect Leader disciplined his own sect members, let alone the Sect Leader's own family, and it was equally offensive to the Jiang Sect as it not only suggested that Wei Ying was not respectable (a fact unlikely to be argued) but also that Jiang Yanli was not respectable by association for not pursuing reparations.

If he had been able to feel anything more beneath his infinite shame, Lan Wangji would have been flabbergasted at the precision with which Jin Zixuan had managed to offend everyone all at once.

Lan Xichen's already impeccable posture straightened further and his scent spiked.

"Xiongzhang, let us not further involve ourselves in matters between the Lan and Jiang," Jin Guangyao said placidly before Lan Xichen could speak.

But this only seemed to incense Jin Zixuan, not soothe him. "Why shouldn't I? Am I the only one that knows how qianyuan and kunze should behave?" Jin Zixuan insisted. The anger he was unable to direct towards Lan Xichen or Jiang Yanli suddenly found itself aimed at Jin Guangyao instead. "You were all too eager to help them wave this away, weren't you, Guangyao? What kind of Jin are you, to let the Lan and Jiang collude right in front of you!"

Jin Guangyao bowed his head and replied simply, "Xiongzhang, we are at peace - we are all friends here."

"You're a fool if you think that! The Jiang and Jin have no such friendship," Jin Zixuan spit. His expression turned particularly caustic. "I have not known the Jiang to be so forgiving of these kinds of mistakes before."

Jiang Yanli's expression froze in sudden shock before it fell. Beside her, Wei Ying sparked with anger. "Watch what you say," Wei Ying growled.

"I will not!" Jin Zixuan shouted and whipped to face him. "Have you not constantly tormented me with reminders of my own poor behavior? A qianyuan, mistreating a kunze? But now you want to absolve Lan Wangji of the same! Of much worse behavior than my own! Well I won't forget it!"

Lan Xichen, Jin Guangyao, and Jiang Yanli all locked eyes at Jin Zixuan's last remark.

"Who cares what you have to say!" Wei Ying yelled back.

"Everyone cares!" Jin Zixuan snapped, his face flushing blotchy and red. "Everyone will listen to me! And no one will listen to you! I'd like to see either of you try to get a respectable mate after this - after you were - were fooling around with each other!"

We weren't having sex, Lan Wangji thought to himself. It hardly seemed to matter at this point. Lan Xichen was growing increasingly distressed; Lan Wangji's brief lapse in control now seemed liable to spiral into a catastrophe that would shame not only himself but their whole clan. Lan Wangji felt the world dull around him as the sound of blood rushing intensified in his ears. He wondered idly how the Lan elders would punish him when rumors of his promiscuity reached them.

Wei Ying broke from Jiang Yanli's side and stormed towards Jin Zixuan, stopping only when his face was inches from Jin Zixuan's own. "You're not fooling anyone," Wei Ying said with a sneer. "You're just jealous. Lan Zhan is ten times the man you are, and anyone would be lucky to be mated to him!"

Lan Zhan blinked. Wei Ying was not defending himself?

"And you're blinded by your stupid - infatuation!" Jin Zixuan replied. He straightened and threw his shoulders back - Wei Ying was taller. "No one wants a qianyuan that sleeps around! The only one that's going to be left to marry Lan Wangji is you!"

"Then I would be lucky!" Wei Ying shouted.

Jin Zixuan's anger turned to confusion, and then to disgust. The air was polluted once more with bitter scents; Lan Wangji felt like he couldn't breathe.

"You can't be serious," Jin Zixuan muttered. His lips curled unattractively. "You're just saying that to - to argue with me."

"I always mean what I say!" Wei Ying insisted. "You think I don't mean it? Hanguang-jun is a shining beacon of virtue, a man of impeachable character, a hero of the Sunshot campaign, the most eligible qianyuan among all the young masters! Can you say the same?" Wei Ying's eyes were alight with passion. "I can only hope to marry a qianyuan as good as Lan Zhan some day!"

Jin Zixuan did not seem to know what to say. Lan Wangji also did not know what to say. He felt that he would faint. Lan Xichen moved beside him but Lan Wangji could not spare even one thought for his brother at this moment.

"A-Xian . . . do you understand what you're saying?"

All at once, Jin Zixuan's expression crumpled. He shoved Wei Ying with both hands and turned away, stumbling no more than a few steps from their group before whipping out his sword, stepping onto it, and launching himself into the air.

Lan Wangji hardly noticed.

Wei Ying exhaled harshly, and some of the tension in his frame escaped with his breath. He stared up into the sky with furrowed brows and crossed his arms over his chest.

"A-Xian, can you look at me please?" Jiang Yanli said, and Wei Ying turned back towards her with a self depreciating smile, his head falling to the side and his shoulders rounding.

"Shijie, I'm sorry that peacock - "

"A-Xian, do you want to marry Lan Wangji?"

Wei Ying froze comically, posture half-slumped from where he had started to make himself pitiful. He blinked, and his smile widened unnaturally. "Uh?" he spluttered. "Did I say that? I just meant - Lan Zhan is a good man. Doesn't every kunze want to end up with someone like him? But Lan Zhan doesn't like -"

Wei Ying's mouth snapped closed. His head turned until he could make direct, unblinking eye contact with Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji had been wrong before; now he was sure he would faint.

"Well," Wei Ying squeaked.

Jiang Yanli clapped her hands together. "Okay!" she said brightly, and half laughed, half sighed. "Ah, A-Xian, what an eventful day this has been, ah!"

Wei Ying's eyes had grown wider and wider as they stared at each other. Lan Wangji felt that his own must be similar; his eyes were dry.

A hand touched Lan Wangji's arm. "Wangji?" His brother's voice - he sounded very far away, although Lan Wangji knew he must by standing right beside him. Lan Wangji saw Lan Xichen turn to address him in his periphery; he did not look away from Wei Ying. "Do you want to court Wei Wuxian?"

Lan Wangji's tongue was swollen in his mouth, his muscles locked in place. He had rarely allowed himself to think about it - it had never seemed like the right time - but he couldn't lie - if there was a chance . . . Lan Wangji nodded: an awkward jerk of his head that turned smooth as he nodded again, and again, and again.

Wei Ying's face split into an open mouthed smile.

"If I might speak…" Jin Guangyao said softly, "it may be wise to break for now and return to any discussions later, with cooler heads." Between Wei Ying's wide smile and wider eyes, Lan Wangji couldn't tell if he looked more happy or more panicked. "I will speak to my brother and stop him from spreading any rumors. Don't rush into things on his account."

"Thank you, Lianfang-zun," Jiang Yanli replied. She was also smiling. "But all the same, Zewu-jun, please do come speak to myself and A-Cheng before the Lan depart from Baifeng Mountain. Perhaps we can arrange a time to discuss the possibility of a formal betrothal sometime in the coming weeks?"

A betrothal, Lan Wangji thought.

"Yes, of course," Lan Xichen answered. "I will come speak with you both later. Wangji?"

Lan Wangji blinked his stinging eyes and turned to his brother; Lan Xichen looked very amused. Lan Wangji cleared his throat. " - Mm."

The corners of Lan Xichen's mouth lifted further. "Wangji, let us return to the hunt now, yes?" he said, and motioned to the side with an arm. As he gestured, he exchanged a look with Jin Guangyao before his eyes returned to Wangji's. "You can speak more to Wei-gongzi later, alright?"

Lan Wangji's gaze, as ever, returned to Wei Ying. Jiang Yanli had similarly taken a step away from their group and begun to turn away, but Wei Ying himself was stationary still, eyes unerringly fixed on Lan Wangji - eyes which were bright, and fiery, and alive. What was Wei Ying thinking?

Lan Wangji turned and swayed on bloodless legs, taking a graceless step forward after his brother. Pins and needles prickled throughout his limbs. He inhaled slowly, and exhaled slower; he must regain control of this traitorous body, first so undisciplined with emotion and then so weak with shame.

"Are you truly going to pursue a betrothal, Er-ge?" For some reason, Jin Guangyao had followed them as well, and he now walked beside Lan Xichen on the opposite side as Lan Wangji.

Lan Xichen pressed his fingertips against his forehead. "Ah, A-Yao, I don't know," he said. "I can't say I had thought about any of this before today, but . . . have Wangji and Wei-gongzi not made their feelings clear? Would it not be wrong to try and back out of it now?"

Lan Wangji stared down at the grass beneath his feet, growing sparser now as they approached the shaded edge of the treeline. Lan Wangji flexed his fingers and pressed his toes into his boots; the farther he moved away from Wei Ying, the more Lan Wangji felt his composure return.

"Emotions were running high, I think," Jin Guangyao replied. "You should both take some time to think. There's no need to make a life long commitment because of a single moment's mistake."

Lan Wangji exhaled heavily. As his blood cooled, his actions became increasingly incomprehensible to him; how could he have acted so thoughtlessly?

Lan Xichen chuckled. "Ah, but is this not the perfect time for a betrothal? Is this new post-war peace not the ideal time for renewing bonds and promises between our sects?" Lan Xichen sighed, and said with exasperation, "Wangji, this is not a situation I ever imagined I'd find you in."

Lan Wangji let his head fall and his shoulders curl; he stopped in the last patch of sunlight at the edge of the clearing and bowed to his brother. "Xiongzhang, I am deeply sorry for how I have behaved."

Lan Xichen caught his shoulder and pulled him up. "It's alright, it's alright," he said, and frowned, "though you are extremely lucky that Wei-gongzi returns your feelings. Things could have ended . . . very badly."

"I behaved in violation of our precepts," Lan Wangji said firmly. Many of them, and likely more than he could remember in this moment.

Lan Xichen's hand flexed where it was still wrapped around his shoulder. "Yes, you did," his brother replied, looking intently at him, "and as punishment you will be the one to inform shufu of your upcoming nuptials." Lan Xichen suddenly closed his eyes and pressed his opposite hand over his face. "Ah, Wangji, a demonic cultivator!" he groaned.

"Will Gusu Lan even entertain the idea of a betrothal between Hanguang-jun and a man of Wei Wuxian's reputation?" Jin Guangyao chimed in, and Lan Xichen released his hold on Lan Wangji so that he might turn towards him instead.

"I don't know, A-Yao, I don't know," Lan Xichen sighed, and dragged his hand down and across his face until his fingertips were pressed over his lips. "But I want to do everything I can to ensure Wangji's happiness. Especially after everything."

Jin Guangyao was silent. They were both speaking like things were certain, like he was really going to be betrothed to Wei Ying. Like he was . . .

There was a swish of robes as Jin Guangyao shifted in place. He leaned in towards Lan Xichen, who did the same, and spoke quietly. "Perhaps we should consider things from a different angle," he began. "Perhaps a marriage into Gusu Lan is a good way to ensure Wei Wuxian gives up this demonic cultivation. Maybe stipulations could be included within the betrothal agreement that Wei Wuxian give up that tiger tally of his, as a show of good faith that he - "

The pair of them began to amble slowly into the forest as they conferred, heads still bent together. They seemed to be truly and honestly making plans for his betrothal, he was going to be . . .

He was going to marry Wei Ying.

"Lan Zhan!"

Lan Wangji lifted his head from where it had fallen as he was thinking and looked back towards the clearing. Wei Ying was running across it straight towards him, robes billowing and bright smile catching the sun.

Lan Zhan turned more fully to face him and extended a hand absentmindedly to catch him; Wei Ying reached him in only a few heartbeats more and launched himself at Lan Wangji.

"Lan Zhan, why would you say that?!" He threw one arm up around Lan Wangji's shoulders, tugging him down and into Wei Ying; Lan Wangji found his hand naturally fall to Wei Ying's waist. "Why didn't you tell them no? Lan Zhan, Shijie is talking about marriage!" Wei Ying jabbed the pointer finger of his unoccupied hand against Lan Wangji's chest. "This is the time to speak up!"

Wei Ying's face was very close to his, tipped back and laughing. Lan Wangji felt warmed everywhere they touched. "Tell them no?" Lan Wangji asked.

"When Zewu-jun asked if you wanted to court me!" Wei Ying exclaimed. "When everyone was talking about you having feelings for me, why didn't you correct them? Lan Zhan, you have to come with me to tell Shijie before she makes any more plans; you have to stop her before she goes and tells Jiang Cheng this whole - "

Lan Wangji shook his head. "I will not lie," he said quietly, and Wei Ying paused, mid ramble, mouth still open.

Wei Ying stared up into his face. "No, no," he said almost to himself, and the hand he had been using to poke at Lan Wangji stalled and slid to rest lightly over Lan Wangji's ribcage. "No, if you had some secret affection for me I would have realized!" Wei Ying said forcefully; Lan Wangji said nothing. "Since when?!"

A question Lan Wangji had often asked himself. In truth, his feelings must have bloomed much earlier, unknown to him, but he remembered being sure when they had - "Xuanwu," he replied.

"No!" Wei Ying straightened and gaped at him, before his smile returned even brighter. "That was so long ago! I can't believe you," he said and slapped blindly at him. "Lan Zhan! And all this time you've looked so offended every time I teased you! You're lucky it was me, any other maiden would have felt spurned and disheartened to be so constantly rejected!"

Lan Wangji's heart beat loudly in his chest, only a few cun above Wei Ying's hand; could he feel it? Lan Wangji suddenly felt desperate to know. "Wei Ying," he said hesitantly. "When did you . . . ?"

"Hm? Oh!" Wei Ying turned back towards the clearing, eyes dulling as he looked far into the distance. "Not before today, I don't think."

Lan Wangji swallowed. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, moving Wei Ying's arm where it was still thrown over his shoulders; Wei Ying turned back to look at him.

"But at the same time," Wei Ying said evenly, "it feels like it's been since forever, you know? Since always."

Wei Ying smiled at him, and Lan Wangji felt the corners of his mouth lift in return. His hand curled more tightly around Wei Ying's hip.

"Mm," Lan Wangji said, and nodded. He inhaled deeply; finally free of the deluge of everyone else's scents, he could again taste that rotten meat smell against the roof of his mouth. Wei Ying's scent was as flat and lifeless as it ever was, in direct contrast to the happiness Lan Wangji swore he could see across Wei Ying's face. Would he be able to ask, if they were married? What had happened to Wei Ying to corrupt him so?

"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji said firmly. "I wanted to give you my ribbon."

"Oh? Earlier today?" Wei Ying replied, and tilted his head back to look down his nose at Lan Wangji. "Then you should have given it to me!" he smirked. "Next time I ask, Lan Zhan, I expect you to deliver."

"Mm, I will," Lan Wangji said. If somehow Wei Ying was truly ignorant of what he was asking for, Lan Wangji would not inform him. It would be his own secret joy until their wedding day.

Their wedding day.

"A-Xian!"

Jiang Yanli was a blur of purple in the distance, one hand raised in the air as she shouted for Wei Ying.

"Ah, Lan Zhan, I think our time is up," Wei Ying said with a sigh, and peeled himself from Lan Wangji's side. He stepped forward into the sun and turned over his shoulder to call back, "but I'll see you around, right, Lan Zhan? You should come to Lotus Pier!"

The sunlight made Wei Ying's dark hair gleam, trailing out behind him like a banner as he first walked then ran back across the open ground to his sister. Lan Wangji watched him go. He subconsciously ran the tip of his tongue along the roof of his mouth; the corpse scent there made him think of unhappier times, of finding Wei Ying in that Wen Supervisory Office, and of the three barren months before that.

Lan Wangji felt a certain resolution solidify within him, as dense and unyielding as his own golden core. Whatever happened from here - whether he and Wei Ying were married, or not - he would never leave Wei Ying's side again.

To his side, Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao were waiting, stalled a few chi ahead under the shade of the many trees; in the distance, Wei Ying was little more than a black cloud rippling in the wind, dark, and wild, and unmistakable.

Yes, Lan Wangji thought. Wherever we go from here, we will go together. He turned away and followed his brother into the trees.