Lan Qiren walks into the guest house full of trepidation. How is it that he needs a tonic to help him sleep every night, these days? He's constantly on edge, and it's due to these two, he thinks wearily, as he sits down opposite Lan Zhan and Wei Ying. It's not even as if he can blame Cangse Sanren’s child - HE's the reasonable one!

No…this stress is all the unpredictability of his own nephew-son.

“Look, Qiren!” Cangse Sanren welcomes him after everyone has greeted each other with bows. “A-Ying made a different kind of talisman! Talk him through it, A-Ying!” She crows enthusiastically.

They share a look so full of love and mutual understanding, that Lan Qiren finds himself glancing away, blinking back tears. His heart releases a sigh that somehow makes the past few weeks melt away, the tensions evaporating with an unexpected ease.

“Shufu,” Wei Ying calls out.

Lan Qiren looks up sharply, because this is the first time this child has used a more familiar term, on his own. Willingly. And it's definitely on purpose.

“I find the early morning air in Gusu particularly difficult for my eyes,” Wei Changze says, sitting down next to him and pouring out tea for everyone.

He's giving him an out, Lan Qiren realises.

And then Cangse Sanren sits on his other side, with a light laugh, nodding towards their children to carry on.

“Shufu,” the insufferable, lovely child continues, “we figured out that Meihua likes the sound of Mama singing. So really, it's a combination of three talismans; one to keep the cradle rocking gently, one to block out other unwanted noise, and one to replicate the sound waves that Mama produces. There's no way to record her voice yet, but this is the next best thing until we can figure out how to do that. And that means we can have a little bit of time to discuss important matters.”

And just like that, his stress comes back with the force of a mountain avalanche.

Wei Changze wraps an arm around his shoulders while Cangse Sanren pours out more tea.

“Don't panic, Qiren. We've told them off for causing you trouble,” she grins back at him.

Wei Ying bows and apologises, nudging his Betrothed to do the same, and Lan Qiren can see his nephew-son's reluctance, but he does it anyway. The thing is, he can see that they're both sincere in projecting this.

“I promise not to teleport around you directly,” A-Ying adds.

“Wei Ying may go where he pleases,” Lan Zhan retorts with visible irritation, not-glaring at Lan Qiren, as if he's to blame for that!

When he looks at Cangse Sanren for help, she merely giggles as if this is highly entertaining.

“Honestly, Qiren, take it because that's the best you're gonna get out of those two. Now, onto the discussion of the wedding. They've decided on next week. It's the night of the full moon, and auspicious on every count.”

“So soon?” Lan Qiren croaks in disbelief, refusing to look at either of the guilty ones holding hands right in front of him. His heart is beating awfully fast suddenly. He decides to look at Wei Changze only, because this is a sensible man, this is his friend, and if Lan Qiren wants even a splash of sanity during this conversation, then this is the only place he has any hope of getting it.

“Well, we talked them down from doing it last week, so….” Cangse Sanren admits, biting her lip to stop herself from laughing.

“And we'll help!” Wei Ying says, rather quickly, in response to whatever Lan Qiren's face is doing.

“But what about the decorations? The invitations? Organising supplies for the following banquet?” Lan Qiren blurts out, and those are just the first things to enter his mind.

“Um, so that's what they want to talk to you about.” Cangse Sanren pats his knee reassuringly.

It does not reassure him.

“Just hear them out, Qiren. They're not being unreasonable, if you think about it from their perspective.” Wei Changze tells him quietly.

Lan Qiren breathes in slowly, nodding. He finally looks up towards Wei Ying and Lan Zhan.

“So…both of us would like a small wedding, just our families present, if that's okay.” Wei Ying says, looking ever so hopefully back at him.

“But he's a Sect heir!” Lan Qiren protests. He refrains from pointing a finger.

“Qiren, both of them are immortal now. I'd think that meant they could pretty much do whatever they please, and the Cultivation world would just have to put up with it.” Cangse Sanren tells him matter-of-factly, lounging back on her arms as nonchalantly as a cloud passing above them.

“Well, it's the highest objective, right?” Wei Ying hides a smile. “To obtain immortality is supposed to be the whole point of Cultivation. What every cultivator strives towards.”

“Shufu,” Lan Zhan’s deep voice slices through the air as if he's cut through it with a strike from Bichen. “We know that you would prefer otherwise. An event that would invite the other sects and anyone else undeserving of being present.”

“For good reason. It is a measure of protection, for both of you. To show them that they cannot object to anything you do.” Lan Qiren retorts immediately.

“We understand that,” Wei Ying points out.

“However, the presence of unworthy, unqualified persons is not necessary. Not for our wedding.” Lan Zhan replies, his tone not leaving any room for argument. “In our last life, Wei Ying lived for other people. Once his parents died and he was left to the mercy of living on the streets, being taken in by the Jiang Sect was possibly worse with the weight of gratitude they forced upon him. The burden of what should have been given freely put upon a person who was so willing to give up everything for their happiness. And he did, Shufu. He did. They took everything from him, even his golden core, and it does not matter if he was willing or not.”

Lan Qiren sees the pain in Lan Zhan’s eyes, his golden orbs shining with a fierce intensity of anger at this injustice. But what is worse is the way he's holding back, trying not to release the hurtful tears of frustration he's blinking away.

Wei Ying puts a hand on Lan Zhan’s knee, and another around his waist to pull him closer.

“My love…it's alright.” He's openly crying.

Lan Zhan is shaking his head, indignant about his suffering.

All of this brings a lump to Lan Qiren's throat.

What is the point of making them suffer any more? A wedding is supposed to be a happy occasion, and he's lucky that they're even willing to talk about it with him, let alone as Cangse Sanren just mentioned, fucking off to do as they please.

“Shufu,” Wei Ying pulls him away from his thoughts. “When I first met Lan Zhan, he was your best pupil, the ruler you used to measure all others. And that isn't a criticism, I'm just pointing out that in our first lives, he did everything and more of what you wanted, truly living up to his title of Hanguang-Jun. He really lived up to being your pride and joy, but…but I think if he had been given a choice, he might not have lived like that. So really, I guess I'm asking for him. Can we please have our wedding the way we want to? They say getting married is like starting a new life, and if that's the case, then this time around, it would be great if we can do this part how we want to. That's all.” Wei Ying glances at his parents, and when Lan Qiren looks at both of them, they're happily nodding away.

That's great for them, he thinks, because they don't have to explain any of this to any Elders, or anyone outside the Sect questioning this unconventional behaviour.

Cangse Sanren nudges him.

“Listen, Qiren, they make a good case for this.”

“We have to have a banquet.” Lan Qiren says thoughtfully.

Their faces fall.

“But you don't have to stay for the duration,” his lips add on, against his will.

They're both smiling back at him now, well, A-Ying is, and A-Zhan is doing that thing with his lips, which could be counted as smiling but that's definitely stretching the description.

“At least an hour. Let everyone congratulate you.” Lan Qiren insists.

“We will stay for the duration of a burning incense stick.” Lan Zhan says firmly.

“You can tell the guests that they have immortal stuff to get on with.” Cangse Sanren suggests, her face contorting into laughter.

“If that's what you want to call it,” snorts Wei Ying into his cup.

“So, we need only to behave as Shufu wants until the banquet,” Lan Zhan says suddenly, his face lighting up with a new realisation.

“Oh my God, you're right!” Wei Ying clutches his arm before Lan Qiren can stop this line of thinking, and before he can protest that he's said no such thing, not ever, no way, they vanish, right in front of his face.

Well.

Lan Qiren looks forlornly at the other two.

Wei Changze pats his shoulder and says, “Good luck getting to talk to either of them before the next full moon.”

Cangse Sanren merely throws back her head and laughs.