Wei Ying woke up cranky. He hadn't been able to sleep, and when his eyes finally shut hours after lying down, it seemed like it was time to rise already.

Yesterday, he'd left Cloud Recesses as soon as the lockdown was lifted, not hanging around to wait until someone told him about the case regarding Lan Qiren. As far as he's concerned, he's done with the Lans and everything they represent, and the sooner his life returns to normal, the better.

So he's surprised when Wen Qing meets him in the foyer of the main building.

“What's up?” He asks suspiciously.

“You tell me.” She pushes him into Song Lan's office, where he sees both Song Lan and Xiao XingChen looking perplexed at … Lan Zhan. Who is kneeling on the ground. Again.

“What the fuck?” The words slip out of his mouth, mostly because Wei Ying is not prepared to see him, let alone this early in the day.

“What the fuck!” Babies passing by behind them copy him, and it's like a Mexican wave, the rippling curse words echoing all down the hallway.

“Language!” Wei Ying is told before being tugged into the room and the door firmly shut at his back, closing the only exit.

“Sorry,” he sheepishly grins, but it vanishes as soon as his eyes land on the man dressed in white.

These are different clothes to the ones Lan Zhan wore yesterday, and still reminiscent of someone attending a funeral later.

“What's he doing here?” It's too dangerous to address the one currently lower than himself in height, so Wei Ying stares at his uncle for some answers.

“We're not exactly sure,” Xiao XingChen replies, the ghost of a smile lurking on his lips.

“He was outside the compound, exactly like that, when we opened the gates.” Song Lan adds. “And then he followed us in.”

“Oh.” Wei Ying says that because he can't think of anything else to say. “Oh, I know! Maybe he's here to update us.”

“Update us?”

“On the situation, you know, with Lan Laoshi.”

Four pairs of eyes land on Lan Zhan’s face, which remains as serene as the first snows to fall in winter.

“So…did you guys find the person who cursed your uncle?” Wen Qing goes to the front desk to face Lan Zhan.

“Mn. It was a new disciple who was tired of Uncle's lectures. He is being punished now.” Lan Zhan replies.

His voice reminds Wei Ying of the smoothest chocolate, especially with melted creamy  marshmallows topping it. It still makes him shiver, and he masks that reaction by joining his family in the front.

Big mistake.

Now Lan Zhan is watching him, staring back with heart eyes and so much bloody intensity.

“Well…you've told us. You can go now,” Wei Ying prompts. He wonders how long Lan Zhan has been kneeling, remembering past heard stories of a younger boy kneeling outside his mother's home, waiting all night for her to open the door.

If there's one thing Lan Zhan has an abundance of, it's patience.

“I am not going anywhere. I am carrying out Wei Ying’s permission.” He says, glowing with happiness.

Why does Lan Zhan sound so smug?

Wei Ying thinks back to yesterday. He feels like a big chunk of time has vanished where somehow, he's missed a whole conversation. But now those four pairs of eyes are turned on him, scrutinising his face for clues. He shrugs helplessly, completely baffled.

“What permission? To do what, exactly?” he might sound a tad hysterical. No one should blame him. In fact, he might still be asleep if he's lucky, and this is all just a dream.

Right?

“Wei Ying told me to be happy. So that is what I'm doing.” Lan Zhan continues, with excited eyes.

“Be happy…elsewhere. Not here!” Wei Ying shouts, waving his arms like a windmill.

“Wei Ying did not say that last word. I believe it's my choice now, how to adhere to his wishes.”

“There's no fucking way this is happening!” Wei Ying exclaims. “Pinch me!” he tells Wen Qing, and she does, hard. “Ow!”

Lan Zhan’s glare is up there with alpine temperatures, scowling at her.

She shrugs at both of them and waltzes out of there, saying, “well, he's your problem now!”

Song Lan and Xiao XingChen take her departure as their cue and also leave the office, smiling.

Now Wei Ying is alone. With Lan Zhan.

“Listen, you need to go back to Cloud Recesses,” Wei Ying tells him firmly. “There's no point in you staying here.”

“I disagree.” Lan Zhan replies just as fast. “Wei Ying told me to be happy. So I am doing exactly that.”

“For fuck's sake!” Wei Ying stomps out of the office, only to find that now, he has a shadow. Fine! He thinks, speeding up. If Lan Zhan was going to take his sincere words so literally, that was on him. Wei Ying will just have to ignore him.

Then, maybe Lan Zhan will get tired of having no interaction and go back to Cloud Recesses, and Wei Ying will finally have some peace.

Sounds like a Plan…

**************

Wei Ying’s first class is with the babies.

All tiny little three year olds, anxiously asking him question after question as Wei Ying points to a surprisingly accurate picture of the insides of a human being. Their huge round eyes find him and what he's pointing out, the dantien and where the golden core resides, is information they ingest enthusiastically, after which they down a concoction of questionable (in Wei Ying’s opinion) green liquid. He is quick to toss a bunch of candies into the air and with a wave of his hand, each child gets their share.

Wei Ying doesn’t want to show off (okay, maybe just a teensie bit), but part of his classes especially with the young ones involves a little shock-and-awe, primarily to get the babies interested in Cultivation.

The kids are happily surprised and munch on their treats while Wen Qing walks past, noting the empty tumblers.

“What did they drink?” Lan Zhan asks Wei Ying. His breath catches when Wei Ying takes a moment too long to answer. Maybe he's going to ignore Lan Zhan completely.

But Wei Ying isn't a rude person. He's been doing a lot of thinking in the hours he couldn't sleep, and he's had an uncomfortable epiphany.

While Wei Ying has endured each passing day and night in real time, feeling each moment as it washes over him, Lan Zhan’s life couldn't be more different.

He's just woken up from a curse lasting thirteen years. That alone would make anyone cray-cray with how much everyone around them has changed, from physical appearance to temperament. Human beings live for change, constantly evolving, and unless they do it together, it would be mind-boggling. Cultivating constantly by meditation would slow the outward process for sure, but it would still be a shock.

Lan Zhan would have surely noticed how much his uncle and older brother have also changed. For him, when he left them, they were very much younger. Plus dealing with a decade and a third worth of emotional change, all the while trying to cope with the absence of a close family member must have been a harrowing experience.

Even Wei Ying must have changed in his eyes.

The old Wei Ying, before his heartbreaking trauma, was a happy-go-lucky boy, barely fifteen years of age and filled with the wonders of the world, beyond optimistic about every new experience and delighting in the smallest of things.

This Wei Ying has had that part of his psyche scooped out of him. He doesn't mean to be cynical or disbelieving, but his life experience has moulded him that way. In many ways, and while it hurts to look back at how sincere and earnest Wei Ying was towards Lan Zhan, he knows he has to find a way to reconcile his past self with his present one.

It makes him want to be gentler with Lan Zhan.

“Qing-Jie found a way for the little ‘uns to develop their golden cores as early as three years old,” he gestures towards the babies who are hanging onto his every word. “So we nudge along the progress and get them acquainted with this new development happening inside them, and get them excited for their own futures.” He sighs inwardly. Who is he kidding? He has never been good at ignoring Lan Zhan.

But maybe this time around, Wei Ying can guard his heart a little better. He shudders at the thought of going through that much pain again.

Before he knows it, a black cloak covers his shoulders, and a way-too-happy Lan Zhan blinks back at him as if he hadn't moved.

“I'm not cold,” Wei Ying tells him, mortified at the thought of exposing those particular thoughts.

“Mn.”

Wait, is Lan Zhan glowing? From just that?

Too flustered by how handsome Lan Zhan is looking back at him with the slightest of pleased smiles, Wei Ying stomps off in a half-hearted huff.

The cloak feels nice so he leaves it on.

“What about your class?” Lan Zhan asks, looking back at the tiny bundles of round-cheeked children whose batteries were recently charged, now being escorted out of the classroom by another kind-faced teacher.

“Bye Wei Laoshi!” They chorus and wave at them with pudgy tiny hands, chortling and giggling.

It's obvious that they're happy.

“Now they're going to play,” Wei Ying says, waving back enthusiastically at them. “What? We're not monsters, you know. They're kids. Kids need to play.” He carries on walking to his next class.

“Mn.”

Lan Zhan sounds pleased.

Wei Ying is NOT going to think about that.

**************

Lan Zhan sticks with him all through his second and third classes, teaching ten-year-olds how to mount their swords with mats underneath to break their falls, and sparring against teenagers on the training grounds.

Before too long, Wei Ying starts feeling too hot and dispenses with his outer robes. He rolls his outer garments into a ball and tosses them to the side, ignoring Lan Zhan who leaps to catch them, shaking out their creases and holding onto them. It makes him feel even warmer.

Wei Ying refrains from stripping his top half completely; he's not that thick-faced to do THAT.

He steadfastly ignores any extra beats of his heart at that, reminding that wayward organ to behave. He concentrates on his class and teaching the young students how to continue fighting even if they're unarmed. It's a skill that is even more valuable in a world that frowns upon carrying swords openly, and sometimes a more physical, close contact method is the only way out of a tricky situation.

But from the corner of his eye, Wei Ying spots a familiar friend sidling up to Lan Zhan, who hasn't looked away yet, fanning himself gently.

It's Huaisang.

Lan Zhan remembers this young man from when he joined the study sessions in Cloud Recesses. He recalls him and Wei Ying with Jiang Cheng being punished for smuggling jars of Emperor's Smile into the school and drinking together.

Huaisang looks older.

He's sharply dressed in a deep bottle green suit, a fennel green silk shirt peeking out of his silk brocade waistcoat. Every detail on his person looks well thought out and purposefully put together, even his silk fan which matches his waistcoat.

“Ji-Xiong! What a pleasant surprise!” He murmurs, his sharp hazel eyes twinkling with shrewd mischief.

Lan Zhan tilts his head slightly, wondering about him. Huaisang always gave him the feeling of someone who knew more than they let on, and today is no different. However, the young man has never felt malicious or given off cruel vibes. Besides, Wei Ying likes him so that part makes Lan Zhan feel a lot better.

Wei Ying’s judgement of character is good, and if this person is still his friend after thirteen years, then Lan Zhan is going to appreciate that. His only dilemma is that in age, he was at least three years older than him, and in spite of thirteen years passing, he should be equally older. Lan Zhan has always been mature for his age, but even he can tell that this Huaisang is far cleverer than he looks.

Perhaps Lan Zhan can make use of this….

Wei Ying tries not to be distracted by the way Huaisang is standing a bit too close to Lan Zhan, and why the fuck are they talking? WHAT are they talking about?

His curiosity gets the better of him and Wei Ying scowls in their direction.

Unfortunately, Huaisang AND Lan Zhan turn in that exact moment and catch him staring, and just then, the young man he's trading blows with lands a particularly hefty blow to his shoulder, something he could have avoided if he hadn't gotten sidetracked by the two people observing them.

Wei Ying recovers quickly and puts a crowing student in his place efficiently and quickly, just so he can have an excuse to go and wipe his face. The towel is on the floor by Lan Zhan’s feet…correction: that's where it was.

Now it's in Lan Zhan’s hands along with a bottle of water.

Wei Ying snatches both out of his hands out of frustration, wiping the sweat away from his face and untwisting the bottle open to throw back his head and drink it down. Sufficiently recovered and refreshed, he turns to Huaisang, who is looking back and forth between himself and Lan Zhan with a knowing smile that he hides behind his fan.

“Wei-Xiong! Looking good!” There's a flash of teeth behind the silk of his fan.

“Huaisang…” Wei Ying isn't actually sure of what to say now.

“I came to invite you, and also Ji-Xiong now, to a little get-together tomorrow night.” He starts fanning himself vigorously. “Nothing fancy, just a meet-up for drinks.”

Lan Zhan remains silent.

Wei Ying glances between them, getting the distinct impression that he's inadvertently interrupted an important conversation.

Whatever.

Lan Zhan is welcome to make friends with whoever he wants to.

It's fine.

“Yeah, I'll come,” he says suddenly, surprising himself.

An evening of drinking the night away sounds really nice now, and Wei Ying is looking forward to burying himself in a bottle. Huaisang never skimps on the quality, though he might be understating his “not fancy, just casual” stance. Whatever he's planning means Wei Ying will have to make an effort to look good, too.

Still, it feels like a small price to pay just so he can get plastered and forget about his life.

**************

The afternoons are reserved for a single talisman class with senior students, discussing theory with practical applications. Wei Ying enjoys this one the most.

It's where he feels keenly alive, tossing back and forth ideas that will fire his creativity and inspire the next generation, a blasting away of misconceptions and proving science above superstition. Every lesson invigorates him and Wei Ying always walks away with a high.

This is the one class where he feels the most validated because in the process of learning, he's not afraid to tell his students that he doesn’t know something, and they in turn, respect him for his honesty.

They learn together.

Lan Zhan is in awe.

Huaisang invited him to his party as well, and though it's really not his kind of thing, he was going to attend because Wei Ying looked like he would give up his core just to go, and not only that, but if he was going to get drunk, then Lan Zhan wanted to be there to look after him. A small voice in his head protests, pointing out the fact that in all these years, Wei Ying must have gotten drunk many times.

Who looked after him then?

Jealousy raises her green head with the sharpest of fangs.

Nevermind, he tells himself sternly. He's here now, and he's going to make sure Wei Ying is safely back home at a reasonable time. He's going to earn his right to stay by his side.

Plus, the way Huaisang was looking at him gave him the impression that Huaisang wanted him to come to his do for another reason entirely, and this might sound crazy, but Lan Zhan suspected Huaisang already knew about his thirteen year absence, which was bizarre. Only a handful of people knew about it, right?

Curiosity won over his uncle's disapproval about going, so there was that.

But now, Lan Zhan might as well be a torch for how hot he's feeling.

He counts his blessings at being able to attend this class out of all the others.

Wei Ying shines. He's thriving here, enjoying himself as much as possible, and watching him, Lan Zhan feels his lips remaining constantly upturned. He knows his face has been trained to not show any emotions, and that it's betraying him now, but he doesn't care.

Wei Ying has given him express permission to be happy.

He's surprised that it's taking so little to do it, but then this is a new feeling for him and he doesn't have any other time to compare it to. Perhaps when he was younger, visiting his mother would count, but this experience is so much stronger. They're kind of parallel to each other, but watching Wei Ying coming alive as he teaches has to rate higher.

He thinks back to the lunchtime, when Wei Ying looked as if he was going to bypass the food hall entirely. But then he had glanced back thoughtfully at Lan Zhan and taken a sharp left.

Without checking with Lan Zhan, he filled two trays with contrasting food, one with plain rice and steamed vegetables in their natural colours, and the other resembling the previous contents of a live volcano in their fiery red, a green tea for Lan Zhan and a Pepsi max for himself. They sat to one side eating silently.

Wei Ying was lost in thought, distractedly putting each mouthful in and chewing like a robot.

It's strange and new, and Lan Zhan doesn't like it.

He misses the way Wei Ying is usually so active, constantly in motion and never silent. Another wave of guilt batters at his heart when he realises that he's the one responsible for this change.

If he had taken the time to thoroughly examine his own feelings before reacting so harshly, it would have changed everything. He had broken the first rule on their Wall of Discipline in Gusu.

Be kind.

It was important enough that it had won the honour of being first, above all others.

And yet, in a haze of misdirected fury, Lan Zhan had destroyed two lives that day.

“What are you thinking about?” Wei Ying whispers, watching him.

Those beautiful silver eyes are wearing shimmering flecks of curiosity, like falling stars in the deepness of the night.

“That the thirteen years of sleeping weren't punishment enough.” Lan Zhan blurts it out without thinking.

“LAN ZHAN! NO!” Wei Ying isn't shouting, but the force of his adamancy makes it seem as if he is.

He looks horrified. His hand, the closest one to Lan Zhan’s right hand, unintentionally covers it.

“You can't think that!” He goes on to say.

“You know what the first rule is.”

He must, because Wei Ying had to write them out the most, from any other student.

“Be kind.” Wei Ying does know it.

“Mn. I broke that rule. I will always regret that.”

“But Lan Zhan, you're still breaking it. The first person you have to be kind to is yourself. But you're still punishing yourself for the past.”

Wei Ying’s face looks tortured, and Lan Zhan hopes it's not for himself. Certainly it should be because of him, though. The distinction is small but nonetheless more important because of it.

The silence between them is heavy, weighted.

All around them is the flurry of activity, students arriving to eat and those leaving after they've finished, the babble of chattering mouths a constant hum over the scraping of metal chair legs on the ground.

And yet for all that, Lan Zhan feels as if they have inadvertently set off a bubble talisman, safely ensconced within a transparent layer protecting them from the outside. In here, there is only Lan Zhan and Wei Ying.

“I thought a long time ago, that if you suffered for what you did to me, it would make me feel better.” Wei Ying’s voice is thick with feeling.

“And?”

“I was wrong. In that scenario, there's just two people suffering separately. It doesn't make a difference except to make me feel worse.”

Lan Zhan isn't sure what to say now. He knows that Wei Ying is the embodiment of kindness, definitely far better at feeling it for others, and now it is being aimed at him, he just feels terribly unworthy of it.

Wei Ying pushes away from the table, so fast that his chair screeches most awfully. The nasty sound manages to break their fragile interlude and Lan Zhan has to hurry to follow him.

Ever since he arrived early this morning, an unsettled feeling has wormed its way into his heart, making him rush. It's as if were he to delay letting Wei Ying know how much he cares for him, the opportunity will be taken away. And that's even by the by; Lan Zhan has had an epiphany. It's certainly an eye-opener for sure, but he's not ready to share with Wei Ying yet.

His instincts are telling him that the way he fucked up was so bad, that any which way he wants to rectify his mistake must be sincere, and shown rather than talked about. It is definitely easier said than done, and in all the moments Lan Zhan is awake, he is racking his brain to find a solution to this problem.

In this talisman class, Lan Zhan thinks about self control.

The ardent desire to push Wei Ying against any wall, any surface actually, is quite strong, and Lan Zhan has to repeat his epiphany like a repetitive mantra in his head, but it's absolutely clear that Wei Ying in his inner robes is a feast for his eyes.

The simple red cotton clings to the muscles on his back like a second skin, darker in the patches where sweat has decided to make a home. Wei Ying is athletic and his graceful movements only accentuate this, however in his speed, his robes have split open on more than one condition.

It is very distracting.

At this rate, Lan Zhan is going to have to have his epiphany tattooed on the inside of his bare wrist just to have some modicum of tolerance.

He gets a reprieve later in the afternoon.

Wei Ying slips away to his room where the mess of scattered pages and misplaced brushes and equipment suggests that his bedroom doubles as an office. Lan Zhan feels as if it is hallowed ground, a place where only the privileged may enter.

“If you insist on staying,” Wei Ying says, “then, do you want to sit on the bed?”

It's meant to be an innocent question, but Lan Zhan’s ears betray him. He would absolutely love to sit on the bed.

But he doesn't think he deserves it, so he clears a place on the floor and tidily sits cross-legged, as graceful as a swan.

Wei Ying stares for a few minutes, grasping onto anything that will make this image, this situation feel real. It's so hard to see Lan Zhan in his personal space, watching him back expectantly. For what, Wei Ying has no idea.

“What are you going to do?” Lan Zhan asks him politely.

*Crickets*....

Wei Ying jolts into action and plonks himself down on the ground, in the middle of the sea of papers. Luckily, several unfinished talismans need working on and he's able to gesture at them randomly, which makes him look professional.

In his opinion.

There's such a contrast between himself dressed in dark reds and predominantly black, his messy chaotic room, and picture perfect Lan Zhan, poised and elegant, dressed in startling white and pale blue. But somehow, he fits.

It's easy to work then, his papers taking up his thoughts.

“May I play something for you?” Lan Zhan asks him, a while later.

It's on the tip of his tongue to tell Lan Zhan to get lost, because Wei Ying isn't asking him to stay. If he's bored, he can-

“Only if it doesn't disturb you. I thought it might be conducive to productivity. I don’t have to, if Wei Ying wishes for silence.”

Wei Ying makes a noise that sounds like he's not opposed to listening to music, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Lan Zhan wave a hand to summon his guqin. The reverence to his spiritual instrument is humbling, and now Wei Ying anxiously awaits the first note.

Wei Ying has never heard such a beautiful song before, a melody that rips his heart into shreds before patching him up so his scars are not visible, at time wrenching in its poignancy, but uplifting at the same time. The song is full of contrasts, rather like themselves.

His fingers still, brush forgotten and he loses himself in the song, his focus changing to listen more fully, and the sound invades the quietest part of his mind.

Lan Zhan plays other songs too, straight after that first one.

They're all lovely to hear, beautifully played with expert fingers and startling mastery of the instrument itself, and Wei Ying feels peaceful at last.

But it's that first one that echoes in the cavities of his heart.