With heavy steps, Lan Zhan leaves Jingshi. Never before had he slept so poorly. Dreams filled with the swirls of perfect calligraphy strokes danced behind his closed eyelids. The artistic lines tempted him to follow as they slid around his body, pulling on his robes as gently as a summer breeze. He followed them anxiously in hopes they would lead him to their creator.

But they never did. Instead, flashes of silver nipped at the trailing strokes. Twinkling starlight danced around the inky black curls until finally, dark united with light, night blended with day, and yin melded with yang.

When he awoke an hour earlier than his normal time, Lan Zhan's soul longed for something that remained lost to him. His heart ached with a strange sense of incompleteness as he dressed and ate breakfast. It refused to fade as the hours passed making him wonder if the unpleasant feeling was real or imagined.

Now, standing outside the classroom doors before anyone else in Cloud Recesses had even risen from their beds, Lan Zhan wishes for nothing more than to meet the person who left him yesterday's note.

Not wanting to frighten his friend, he...

Wait.

Can he call them that?

Friend?

He recalls what Xichen said to him yesterday about Wei Wuxian wanting to be his friend and a tiny shiver draws out goosebumps all over his skin. The idea of him being friends with such an unruly and untamed person is absurd. What benefit is there to being friends with someone like that?

Lan Zhan shakes the unsettling thoughts from his mind and slips inside the classroom. There is a privacy screen that stands at the front left corner of the room. It's the perfect hiding place. From behind the thin, dark blue fabric painted with white cranes and snow covered mountain tops, Lan Zhan steals occasional peaks to see if anyone enters the classroom.

He stands in practiced silence, his body still on the outside but buzzing on the inside.

The anticipation at solving his first mystery warms his skin until he's nearly sweating. The thump thumping of his heart gets louder as his sharp eyes watch the dawn's shadows form and glide effortlessly across walls, floor, and desks. His left hand grips Bichen tightly. Lan Zhan feels like he's on the edge of a precipice, an invisible pull threatening to entice him over the edge.

He waits.

And waits.

Lan Zhan doesn't realize he's holding his breath until lets out a disappointed sigh as the first footsteps on the lecture hall's floor break through his engrossing concentration. Sounds of muffled giggles and soft voices float inside the room followed by the swishing of robes and clearing of throats.

A heaviness settles around his heart. The weight of it is unusual and definitely somewhat painful. His fingers relax around Bichen's hilt and his hand falls to his side. The buzzing under his skin fades as the chill of the early morning air seeps through his robes, chasing away the warmth his hope manifested within him. His golden eyes that had searched relentlessly for his secret admirer betray him as a single tear falls down his cold cheek.

Wiping the unwelcome moisture from his face, Lan Zhan slowly steps out from behind the privacy screen. He expects to be greeted with shocked faces and gasps of fear.

Instead, he hears, "Lan Zhan!"

His eyes are instantly drawn to the boisterous voice calling his name.

Wei Ying's smile is more dazzling than ever before. It is brilliant and honest and filled with so much happiness that Lan Zhan feels dizzy from its intensity.

"Lan Zhan! I saved you a seat!"

Not only is Wei Wuxian blinding Lan Zhan with his open smile, he's also waving so enthusiastically that the second Jade fears his arm might separate from his body.

"Ridiculous." Lan Zhan murmurs as he makes his way to his seat.

There is no reason for this ball of unbridled energy that has taken the form of a boy to save him a seat. No student would dare sit where the cold young Lan heir sits. And yet, here Wei Wuxian is, brushing off the cushion next to him.

For the first half of the day, they recite the rules of the GusuLan clan. Lan Zhan watches as Wei Wuxian nods off a few times during class. When he's not falling asleep, the head disciple of the Jiang Clan whispers unnoticed and tells Wangji all about his adventures in Caiyi yesterday.

After lunch, all the students are asked to write down what life rule they follow. Not a rule of their clan, per say, but a promise they make to themselves. A vow they hold above everything else that will help guide the decisions they make in the future.

Lan Zhan can see many of the students thinking diligently about what they want to commit to paper. He can tell by the way they gnaw on the ends of their brush handles or tap them against their temples that they are giving this assignment serious thought. And they should.

Without a moral compass embedded in their hearts, cultivators can often wander off the path of righteousness. He has heard many stories about good men and women who lost their way in the world, ones who were tempted by the darkness and consumed by evil.

Lan Zhan stares at the blank piece of paper in front of him. He hasn't even reached for his brush yet. The sound of inked goat hair gliding over smooth paper draws him out of his thoughts and his eyes drift over to Wei Wuxian's paper. To his surprise, the annoying boy next to him has had no issue writing down his promise to himself.

At first, it's difficult for Lan Zhan to make out the characters. Yet the more he stares, the more the strokes begin to take shape into something legible.

I, Wei Wuxian, wish I can always stand with justice, live with no regrets.

Lan Zhan allows himself a moment to let Wei Wuxian's words sink in. This young man who is full of mischievousness and silliness, whose demeanor is so loud and lively it gives Wangji a headache, and whose actions are reckless and untamed has written the most sincere and honorable promise Lan Zhan has ever read.

He doesn't know when he started staring into silver eyes illuminated from within their faceted depths by a light of hope. All he knows is that Wei Wuxian is staring right back at him, a look of shyness dusting his high cheekbones.

"I know what you're going to say," Wei Wuxian whispers.

Lan Zhan tilts his head in question.

The boy with his hair tied up in a high ponytail by a scarlet ribbon giggles.

"Ridiculous." Wei Wuxian says in a deeper tone than his own voice.

His lips keep shifting as he tries to contain his laughter. However, the longer Lan Zhan remains silent, the more the corners of his lips fight to stay lifted upwards. Eventually, Wei Wuxian looks away, his head lowered. He puts his brush down and blows lightly on his paper to dry the ink.

For the first time, Lan Zhan misses the young Jiang disciple's eyes on him. A loneliness takes root in his heart, a tiny seed that's just begun to sprout.

While the instructor waits for everyone to write their promises down, he gives those who have finished the assignment other work to keep them busy. The rest of the day passes quickly and before Lan Zhan knows what time it is, the instructor is dismissing everyone.

"Lan Wangji, aren't you coming to dinner?" Wei Wuxian asks politely.

Lan Zhan wants to answer him but he can't stop staring at the blank paper in front of him.

"It's okay if you can't think of anything today." the head Jiang disciple says gently. "When the time is right, your heart will tell you what words to write down. Take your paper with you. Then, when inspiration hits you, you can write it down immediately before you forget it. It's what I do when I think up a new talisman or invention. See?"

Reaching into his robes, Wei Wuxian pulls out a small notebook. He proudly shows Lan Zhan all the scribbles and drawings, most of which the young jade cannot interpret, on its pages.

"I may be a great inventor but my memory is unbelievably poor. Madam Yu says I'd forget my head if it wasn't attached to my neck."

Wei Wuxian tucks the notebook back inside his Lan Clan colored robes embroidered with the Jiang Clan lotus motif on the shoulders. He puts an arm around Lan Zhan's shoulders so casually that the Second Jade flinches at the intimacy of the action.

Realizing what he did, the Jiang disciple pulls his arm back and smiles embarrassingly.

"S-Sorry, Lan Wangji. Please forgive this lowly student."

Lan Zhan gives him a little head bow and the relief on Wei Wuxian's face is evident.

"Just remember, write it down as soon as it pops into your mind. It's a lot easier than trying to recall what it was you wanted to say later. Especially if every word is perfect. And don't worry about how neat your handwriting is. It's recording your thoughts that's important. You can always rewrite it when you have time."

To Lan Zhan's surprise, Wei Wuxian's words make perfect sense.

"Thank you, Wei Wuxian."

"Oh please! We're friends, aren't we, Lan Wangji? Call me Wei Ying."

Lan Zhan says the boy's birth name a few times in his mind before trying it out on his tongue.

"Wei...Ying."

"Great! Now we're best friends, Lan Wangji." Wei Ying said with a radiant smile. "I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Lan Wan...."

"Lan Zhan."

Wei Ying pauses. A tiny smile graces his full lips as he repeats the name he's been given permission to say.

"Lan Zhan."

Deep within Wangji's heart, an inexplicable warmth spreads outwards like ripples on a mountain lake.

"Sleep well, Lan Zhan. Remember, don't worry about finding your promise. When you're ready, it'll find you."

With a flamboyant flip of his ponytail and a playful wink, Wei Ying leaves the lecture hall.

Lan Zhan sits at his desk until the shadows of dusk creep across the floor. He rises slowly, still wanting to write down a promise he believes in and will follow throughout his life. Maybe Wei Ying is right. His brother once told him that inspiration will strike when he least expects it. That sometimes trying too hard is an enemy that can't be defeated until you surrender.

Reaching down, he lifts his paper off the table in hopes that his promise will find him before the next class. And that's when he sees it. The thing he completely forgot about once he sat next to Wei Ying.

A small piece of folded paper drops onto the floor. Lan Zhan's heart skips a beat as he bends to retrieve the fallen note. With great care, he peels open the two halves.

Good Night

It's the perfect partner to the note still kept inside his sleeve. The calligraphy is just as exceptional as it was the first time, each brush stroke artful precision. Its simple intricacy calls to Wangji's soul, his heart fluttering in his chest like a crazed hummingbird.

Two characters written.

Infinite meanings interpreted.

Why is it then that Lan Zhan has only one hope when he traces the lines and swirls with the tips of his fingers?

Why is it that the only thing he can see hidden within the characters is the curved lips of a boy he barely knows?

Why is it that his eyes imagine silver starlight veiled behind the inky blackness?

Lan Zhan shakes the cloud of confusion from his mind, tucks the note inside his sleeve, and walks out of the classroom in search of his brother once again.