Chapter Text
The ground was shaking.
There were screams in the distance and the smell of the blood in the air, the fire crackling, and weapons crashing.
His heart was beating faster and faster, his breaths coming out rushed. His head was heating up, his brain pressing against his skull until it became unbearable. His fingers were digging into his sleeves, his hands shaking.
“Master Jiang?”
And just like that, it was over. The room was still, spilled wine dripping down his trousers and onto the cold floor. He was kneeling. His head bowed low as if he was trying to make himself smaller.
“I’ll be right there.”
The white figure was entrancing in the darkness of the night. His face was hidden in shadows, his noble features distorted against the vibrant white ribbon tied around his raven hair. He was kneeling, his form stiff and proper. His pristine white robes were getting dirty, the mud seeping into the fine fabric. He looked weak, defeated. As if Jiang Cheng could walk up to him and cut his neck, and the man would merely smile.
His eyes slowly rose, their soft gold bearing into Jiang Cheng’s silver orbs. It was strange, in a way. Jiang Cheng thought he’d curse the man when the moment came. He thought he’d spit at him like his clansman did, that he’d laugh and mock him. Instead, he felt empty.
He lifted his hand to give the signal when his eyes caught on the small burn scar running down his palm. The memories struck as unexpectedly as always, and his breath caught. He was seventeen when he threw the torch ineptly, burning his hand. He could still smell the smoke and taste the embers, his eyes full of white figures running, their shouts ringing in his ears. He was shouting too, loudly, until his throat became too hoarse.
He could remember the reports of the young master fleeing. He remembered laughing at the cowardice, taunting the flames.
He remembered learning that the leader of Gosu Lan had refused to leave his residence, suffocating to death instead, his corpse burned into a black shape that barely resembled a human being.
He was seventeen when he burned down Cloud Recess on his father’s orders. He was just as old when he learned his actions had killed a man.
He remembered puking until he cried.
“Please.”
One word from the kneeling enemy and Jiang Cheng was snapped back to the present, his hand half lifted uncertainty.
“Bring him out,” he ordered, his voice starting strong but fading into a whisper.
He heard a gasp and Lan Xichen trembled where he humbled himself against the ground, his eyes widening in futile hope. Jiang Cheng could see doubt shimmering behind the mask his face was twisted into, the fake smile dimming. He had to be asking himself if the report he’d gotten was false, if the heartbreak he suffered was for nothing. But then reality came crashing down on him like a tidal wave at the sight of a white figure being carried like a sack. He quivered, crying softly, and reached desperately for his brother. He removed the messy strands of hair to take a look at the face so similar to his own. He cradled the corpse against his body, his eyes so full of pain Jiang Cheng had to look away.
He knew that this was the moment to strike, because if he lives, if Lan Xichen lives …
He shook his head at his men who readied their weapons.
“Not today,” he said roughly, walking back to the fortified refugee camp he was staying at. Turning his back to the enemy was a bold, foolish move, but Jiang Cheng was busy. He had a city to rebuild and leadership to establish with his people who were suffering so badly after the fall of his family. Not much was left, but the foundation had braved the disasters that had befallen them.
The foundation stood strong.
He stood strong.
He looked back, just once, and met those golden eyes. There was a hint of gratitude and respect, buried beneath all the hurt. But Jiang Cheng knew very well how quickly that can turn to hate.
Lan Huan loved Lanling’s sunrises. They were so magnificently unique and different to Gosu’s mountain mornings that they always took his breath away. When the sun showed up above the little tops around his hometown, it was already bright and yellow like the flowers, but in the land of Lanling, it burned like dark orange flames. And yet as much as he liked it, it always came with the terrible feeling of shame and guilt, making him nauseous and heavy-hearted. He felt too old for his age. He’d made terrible mistakes in his life, two of which had dire consequences. And he regretted them with every breath he took, every step he made, because his brother no longer walked beside him.
He let out a soft sigh, dropping his head lower. He gripped the small cup of tea he’d brought outside with him to drink slowly while enjoying the view. It was barely dawn and the rest of Lanling was still asleep. He watched the leaves swirl in the cup and slowly, his mind relaxed. He let out another soft sigh, shaking his head slightly and lifting his gaze once more. The dawn was a crimson red, like flames. Like blood.
He took the sip and waited.
His mind was clear and calm, his breathing slow. Only occasionally a turbulent thought would arise but he would dismiss it immediately. He had been trained to meditate since he could walk and he was fairly good at it, but somehow, something still unnerved him. It had to be that man being so close. His hand shook and some of the tea spilled. He hadn’t even noticed it getting cold.
“I knew I would find you here, my friend.”
Lan Huan slowly turned and smiled at A-Yao’s sudden entrance. He gracefully got to his feet and set the cup aside to complete the greeting. The two men smiled at each other, easily falling into a meaningless conversation exchanging pleasantries. The sun had risen above the land and the shadows shortened when A-Yao decided to make his way to the dining hall accompanied by Lan Huan.
Jin Guangyao was a companion he needed when he was at his lowest. His brother was dead, his homeland weakened and-
No.
It was before that, when Lan Huan had just learned his father had perished in the fire and he was angry, truly furious for the first time in his life and he asked for money-
“-kfast, really, but I think …”
A-Yao was still talking, but Lan Huan was already lost …
They were a funny lot, the mercenaries he had called. They arrived from different lands and backgrounds, were of different ages and skills. Some looked shady, some downright too normal for the bloody task they came to do. He remembered hesitating for a moment, but then he’d raise his hand and the bag of coins would jingle with a metallic sound. A-Yao was right there, his eyes on the money he’d lent to Lan Huan somehow, even though he should have had nothing to his name. Lan Huan remembered his own lips moving and the words coming out. When he was awake, the words sounded strong and true.
“Burn it all!”
But when he was dreaming, his body shaking with sweat running down his back, the words would change.
“Kill them all!”
He never said that, and he clung to that fact with his entire being. Because it was too much to think about the thousands of lives lost when the Lotus Pier burned and Yunmeng fell, when the Jiang family had been slaughtered by the people Lan Huan had hired. They went rogue, drunk on power and human blood, but it didn’t matter. It was Lan Huan who sent them. It was as though his own hands were covered with gore and embers. He heard rumors of children being gutted and women being raped. Mercenaries, drunk on easy victory and the power they held over the kneeling nation, killing left and right until corpses lay in piles. And the people would whisper in his ear about the Jiang family. That they were not killed, not immediately, no. They were made to watch and then, standing in the ashes of their home and loved ones, were they tortured to death. It took days until the last one took their dying breath.
Later, even as he cradled his brother’s corpse in his arms, the apology was right there on the tip of his tongue. But what did it matter? They had hurt each other much too thoroughly to ever be forgiven. Empty words would not bring their loved ones back to life or rebuild their broken lands.
A-Yao finally quieted down while eating. He had to see how lost Lan Huan was in his memories and thoughts that attacked viciously like never before. After all, he was merely walls away from the man he had wronged, the man he had been wronged by in return.
He only saw Jiang Wanyin once after the tragedy that had befallen his family. It was when he had come to retrieve his brother’s corpse, hoping beyond hope that the reports were fake and it was all a lie and yet also expecting to be cut down just the same. But neither came true and he was left mourning during the first time of peace after decades of war. He had rebuilt and made allies, but he had never reached out to Yunmeng. He had heard about their suffering, about the famine and dry seasons and the floods like some god was making fun of the poor land. He heard about the madness that had grown in the land’s leader, about the terrible things he’d done. But for ten years, he had stayed away, watching and listening and observing while his opinion of him plundered. Jiang Wanyin was a monster . He came into villages and dragged away a man or two from their families, their wives and mothers and children left to watch in horror as he cut them down right there in front of them. Sometimes he took the man with him. They never returned and people would talk about screams that echoed across Lotus Pier at night.
There was sadness in Lan Huan and it mixed with anger, helplessness, and pain. Jiang Wanyin would even come to Gosu sometimes and leave a single corpse behind. And yet, Lan Huan stayed away and watched. He watched for ten long years until A-Yao suggested for every single leader to meet in Lanling - since Lanling was an ally with all of them - and he could not refuse.
He felt numb when he walked towards the meeting hall, his face pailing even beyond its usual light shade. A-Yao would grip his shoulder for a moment, but he stayed silent as they walked. A dark, heavy mood had descended upon them and no meditation technique in the world could calm Lan Huan’s racing heart. He felt nauseous, his neck squeezing tight against his windpipe.
His face was a mask, an ever-present smile wide enough to draw attention away from the sweat on his skin. He swung the door open, his hands steady like a healer’s before the cut.
The door opened with a bang, startling everyone inside. Silence followed when the eyes of every individual in the room focused on his appearance after skimming over the woman who threw them open. She was lovely. Her hair was styled in a few small braids adorned with marbles and jewelry. Her dress was simple and elegant in hues of dark plums and silver clouds. Ah, but it was a true mystery how she had managed to hide more weapons under there than most men around the table had seen in their life.
And yet, no matter how lovely or special she was, all the eyes always ended on Jiang Cheng. He just had this presence that stunned and overwhelmed the others. The less brave souls started muttering and stuttering, looking at their feet while trying to get as far away as possible. The braver ones would flatter him, looking for a piece of his glory. After all, he was as rich as a Jin and as feared as only Wen Ruhan had been before him. And the bravest of those bloody parasites would smile and say:
“Hello there, Jiang Wanyin. I am holding a meeting of all of my allies and I was wondering if you could join?”
And there he was, Jin Guangyao, the man who smiled like a cheshire cat and was in need of a serious beating. Preferably conducted by one Jiang Wanyin.
Jiang Cheng swallowed his discontent and walked inside, his glare scaring off the servants that tried to point him to his seat. He was aware he was frowning even harder than usual, but he couldn’t help himself. This seemed like a huge waste of his valuable time and the faces of the crowd before him annoyed him to no end.
This one wants a road built to his land. With my money, of course.
This one wants free passage through Yunmeng for his boats. What am I, a charity?
This one wants to buy some Spiders for his personal use. Why is he still alive? Or better yet, how?
And this one …
Jiang Cheng stopped, rooted to his spot.
Lan Xichen.
Bloody Lan Xichen was in the crowd and he should have known. He glared at Jin fucking Guangyao, who merely smiled and lowered his head in greeting. Jiang Cheng will gut him if it’s the last thing he does.
He sighed, settling in his seat with his Spider right behind his back. There were two more in the hallway, ready to strike at any sign of danger to their leader. Not to mention the small army staying right below the meeting hall’s windows, all men armed to their teeth. Jiang Cheng had many enemies and at least half of them were sitting in the same room, making small talk with each other. He ignored them as if they were nothing more than the buzzing of Lotus Pier’s evening mosquitos, showing themselves in the summer heat. He didn’t look at them, not even when he was being addressed. His eyes were on one man only. The leader of Gosu Lan, the peerless jade. He looked older and more tired than Jiang Cheng remembered. He never looked up from the hands in his lap, but his golden gaze - Jiang Cheng remembered it well.
The first time they met was on a battlefield. Arrows had been flying left and right, screams and battle cries raging through the night and Jiang Cheng, a small, sickly child barely in his teens, cowered behind a large shield. He was petrified. He had gone from shedding a few drops of blood in the daily sword practice to watching people die - some were beheaded, some cut apart where their armor offered no protection. He flinched when a person ran past him, yelling a lungful and waving around the stump that used to be a hand.
Suddenly there was a touch on his shoulder and he slashed blindly in his fear, but as the person dodged, he realized his mistake. After all, that was the bright ribbon Lans wore and Lans were friends. He heaved, tried to apologize only to find out he could not speak.
“It’s okay.”
A warm, kind voice cut through his panic, and his eyes met the golden ones for the very first time. They were like melted honey, brilliant and dazzling. Jiang Cheng remembered finding his voice, asking for a name while his hands clung to the stranger as if his life depended on it. But the stranger let him grip his clothes and his arms, hugging him gently in the middle of the chaos.
“Lan Xichen,” he answered and smiled.
And Jiang Cheng was dazed, his eyes filling with tears much to his shame.
“It will be alright. It will all be okay.”
Later, after they braved the battle side by side, Lan Xichen took him back to their camp. All of the nations were mixed in there, all fighting against the huge threat that was the Wens. Jiang Cheng spotted Wei Wuxian hiding behind his tent, having snuck with Jiang Cheng to the battlefield, even though Jiang Fengmian had told him to stay at home, that it was too dangerous for him. But since Jiang Cheng had to go, Wei Wuxian was determined to be there for him and help ease his mind after the terror he’d seen. He was at his side in an instant, staring at Lan Xichen with distrust. After introductions were made, they all built the campfire together and were later joined by Xichen’s friend, Nie Mingjue. They told stories and laughed, trying to forget what they had been through - Lan Xichen was barely an adult, Jiang Cheng not even that. The young hair to Gosu Lan stared at him across the fire, his golden eyes and his smile making Jiang Cheng weak in his knees. And he was staring right back.
But now, a decade and a half later, Lan Xichen refused to lift his gaze for their eyes to meet. There were things Jiang Cheng had wanted to ask for so long, but it seemed the other simply wasn’t interested.
Do you hate me?
I killed your father, but you killed everyone I knew.
His scowl had gotten worse. His eyes flashed murderously. Was the bastard feeling too high and mighty to look at the one he took everything from? This was what he wanted, was it not? A peaceful era where he could look down on Jiang Cheng with no consequences whatsoever. While Jiang Cheng was busy simply surviving for so long he forgot how it felt to breathe, Lan Xichen had stayed away and never attacked or undermined Jiang Cheng’s efforts. Well, it was too late now. Even if Gosu tried anything, Yunmeng would crush it in an instant.
A cough broke through his thoughts and the room became quiet, all the leaders sitting straighter. Finally, Lan Xichen lifted his eyes, but it was Jin fucking Guangyao that he looked at. Jiang Cheng ground his teeth, nearly biting his tongue. So this is how it was.
Jin Guangyao coughed lightly again as if all the attention wasn’t on him already. He spread his hands and slowly looked from those seated furthest away to Xichen sitting by his side.
“Let’s get this meeting started, shall we?”
The meeting was boring. Even with all the daily meditation and classes and the elders’ nagging, evolving Lan Huan’s patience into that of a saint, the endless meaningless chatter pushed at his limits. He peeked across the table at Jiang Cheng through his eyelashes, his face still downturned in an effort to not make it obvious. The man was slouching and his eyes were glazed. He looked older than Lan Huan remembered, and he had changed tremendously. When they had last seen each other, he’d still had baby fat on his cheeks and tightly bound braids in his hair. He had been like a house cat, raising his fur to appear threatening. But now-
Now he was a panther. He was relaxed and calm, but Lan Huan still shivered at the predatory look in his eyes. He was at the top of the food chain and he knew it. His cheeks were sharp and his hair was loose, braids more of a beautiful decoration than anything else. Suddenly, attention sparked in his eyes and he met Lan Huan’s gaze. And he smirked, the twist of his lips rough and cruel. It chilled the air between them and Lan Huan’s skin prickled with goosebumps. He was dangerous .
“... and so I came to the idea to suggest an alliance between the Gosu Lan and the Yunmeng Jiang.”
Lan Huan could see Jiang Wanyin’s eyes widen and he had a feeling something important had just been said.
Wait.
What.
His mind helpfully provided him with the last few seconds of the conversation. He turned sharply, staring at his friend in surprise and horror. Did Jin Guangyao just suggest …
No, right?
“Elaborate,” simply said Jiang Wanyin, his voice as cold as ice. He leaned forward like a beast preparing to strike and his face clearly showed his displeasure at the current topic.
“An alliance,” continued Jin Guangyao entirely unfazed. “It is time to forget about past grievances and move on for the benefit of future generations, no?”
“And exactly how do you suggest we move on from those grievances ?”
“A marriage,” said Jin Guangyao, his smile wide and his sense of danger apparently malfunctioning.
“A marriage …”
“Of you and a nice lady,” the Jin leader interrupted Jiang Wanyin’s gasp of disbelief and Lan Huan curled his fingers into fists under the table. “I heard matchmakers have it out for you so-”
“What nice lady?”
It was Lan Huan that interrupted this time, rules be damned, and he tasted bile in his mouth.
“Oh, I’m sure you can find someone,” said Jin Guangyao lightly. He waved his hand like it was nothing really. “Gosu Lan is filled with lovely placid things you can offer to solidify your relationship with the Jiang family.”
Both Lan Huan and Jiang Wanyin flinched at his words. It was almost like the Jiang family wasn’t one single man. Like they were talking about cattle and not human beings.
“No.”
The room was completely silent for the first time since the meeting started. Even when Jin Guangyao was proposing this ridiculous arrangement, minor leaders had been arguing among themselves like old women bargaining for vegetables. But when Lan Huan’s words cut through the hall, they fell silent and were now looking between the leader of Gosu Lan and the Yunmeng Jiang’s delegation. It wasn’t only that the always calm and composed Lan Huan looked agitated enough that he nearly shouted. It was the tension between two of the biggest and strongest nations, the leaders almost baring their teeth. Sparks of war were flying and the hearts of those present plummeted.
Lan Huan was right there amongst them. He knew it would end badly if he went for a fight. He knew his family would end up dead and he’d be tortured in the worst ways imaginable, but he still didn’t have the heart to sacrifice one of his subjects to this madman.
“I agree,” said Jiang Wanyin with a snare, to the surprise of everyone present, except maybe Jin Guangyao who merely sighed. “I’d have to be insane to lie with a snake!”
“A snake?”
Lan Huan’s blood was boiling, the calm he was known for nowhere to be found. He felt his barriers breaking and his powerful emotions overflowing. Never before had someone managed to provoke him so successfully.
He leaned forward, his fingers digging into the table’s edge. He only had eyes for the other, not even feeling Jin Guangyao grip his shoulder.
“Even the stable animals of Gosu Lan are too good for a monster like you. I can suggest a wild beast-”
“Ah, would you look at the time,” a voice cut through his words and Jin Guangyao jumped to his feet. “Some refreshment would do us well, what do you say?”
Half of the room was on their feet before he even finished, all of the minor leaders desperately running away from the confrontation. The sound of movement and murmuring filled the hall and it drowned out any words Lan Huan might have said, so he stayed seated as if he was rooted to the spot. His eyes still rested on Jiang Wanyin’s cold face, frozen in a scoff. He shivered under the sharp glare until the other also got up and left.
It took a while before Lan Huan’s limbs were unthawed enough that he could get up and he still stumbled like a baby deer. He took a deep breath before he followed the others, feeling like he was moving through water.
Jin Guangyao was waiting for him by the door, oddly quiet. Lan Huan mistook the uncharacteristically empty face for guilt and lashed out, his mind still heated from the argument.
“What was that?” he asked sharply, and Jin Guangyao’s expression shifted.
“That was me giving you peace on a silver platter,” he snapped back, looking agitated by Lan’s leader for the first time in years. “And that was you , throwing it back in my face.”
He turned on his heels and left, his fingers clenching the robes on his side.
Jiang Cheng gulped down the wine like it was water. And then another. It was too early to drink, but he felt it was appropriate considering how the day was going. The only thing that could make it better was either spending some quality time with his nephew or stabbing somebody. He shook his head and lifted his hand in a commanding gesture.
“Master?”
One of the women following him approached, her head bowed low. He scoffed and she flinched, lifting her gaze enough to gauge if he was unsatisfied.
“Go find my nephew,” he ordered, turning away from her and scanning the public. “Take the other two with you. I’ll find the Jin snake and arrange a meeting place.”
She was startled, her eyes going wide and her head shaking ‘no’ before she managed to gather her wits. Her braids fell over her shoulder and her bell shook when she leaned forward. Her painted lips opened and closed as if she was looking for the right words.
“Master,” she finally dared to say. “I am here to protect you. I cannot-”
“You are here to obey me,” he interrupted sharply without even looking at her. “If I tell you to jump, you jump. If I tell you to go, you fucking go . Disobey me one more time and I’ll never take you with me again.”
She silently bowed, her hands trembling slightly, and turned to leave.
Jiang Cheng had to take another calming breath to stop himself from losing control of his temper. He grabbed the third cup of wine from an unexpecting servant and drank it in one long sip.
The room smelled like embers.
He watched the crowd, their faces relaxed and seemingly open as they chatted and ate, their eyes glittering greedily. They will be in the center of attention for the week and they relished in it. Jiang Cheng felt like he was watching pigs being fed. Like the animals fighting over scraps …
Jiang Cheng once watched a pig being slaughtered. The weather was perfect and the people gathered had smiled in expectation. Blood covered the ground and dripped down the butcher’s pants. The dying shrieks of the animal pierced the ears of those present and its final struggle forever engraved itself in Jiang Cheng’s memories. It rested there when he ate it in the soup. It gave his sister’s famous dish a flavor of despair he never managed to wash down. When he watched people being butchered, he remembered the taste. He watched people die in the fields alone and in pain, crying and screaming and praying and cursing.
He saw the hope die in their eyes and the flies set in. He watched the scavengers ravage the corpses.
He watched his friends and servants and family die and he knew when he laid in the pile of corpses he’ll end up the same. His hope was crushed beyond recovery and the flavor of the despair lingered.
He found himself in the hallway away from the rest of the meeting party and he stumbled, trying to ground himself. It was dark. He didn’t like the darkness.
Usually, an attendant would shake him out of his daze, but he sent them all away. To his nephew, his sunshine, his reason to live. He tried to focus on the memories of the little boy in his arms.
“Uncle!” he’d call him adorably and he’d giggle when Jiang Cheng lifted him high up in the air. He was so small back then, free from the burden of being the Jiang leader’s nephew, of being the next Jin leader and an orphan since he could remember. It was before he had picked up Jiang Cheng’s bad behavior, his terrible temper that flared every time he was confronted and the freakish laughter of his tormentors rang in his ears. The little child had soaked it all in and soon he was acting like a brat. He had no friends, since he was of higher class than any other kid, and he was feared since he had to be hidden and protected, and anyone deemed suspicious was killed.
Jiang Cheng wondered if Lan Xichen had anyone. Was he married? He was certainly old enough and unlike him, he didn’t have to wait. He tried to remember, but since the Lans had stuck to themselves the entire time, he had nothing to go on. Lan Xichen had become a stranger, a mystery. Gods, how much Jiang Cheng used to hate him. He remembered the rage flowing through his veins like liquid fire, his vision flashing, and acid rising from his stomach, burning his throat.
“Please! Please, please no, I’ll do anything ...”
There was a man on his knees, his hands above his head in chains, his wrists bleeding. He was naked just like Jiang Cheng had been when they had toyed with him.
This man was the first.
Jiang Cheng laughed at how easy he was to break. All it took was twenty lashes with the scourge before he cried and begged while Jiang Cheng himself had lasted for days. He threw away the weapon only to pick up the whip, a long black thing with the royal purple fall and handle. It was a family heirloom and he was glad it had survived the fire. He slashed the man across his chest, adding another bloody line across the damaged skin. The next slash cut across the man’s nipple and a whimper followed the deafening crack of the whip.
“Oh, does it hurt?” he taunted, his smile bordering on the insane. “Do you regret it all?”
“I- I regret, please …”
Please? Jiang Cheng remembered that word. It was what Lan Xichen had said when Jiang Cheng had returned his brother’s corpse to him. It was when Jiang Cheng had still been grieving, before he entered the anger part of the mourning, before the hate for his former friend ignited. It was burning strongly now and he felt himself slipping into madness when he just imagined the other’s face.
He heard another whimper and looked down. He was whipping his prisoner relentlessly until patches of skin were missing on his chest. Another whimper and the man’s head lowered, his chin touching his collarbone. He was crying, his tears mixing with the saliva and blood, dripping down his face.
And then Jiang Cheng was stricken by a thought. What would Lan Xichen look like if he was in this man’s position? What would he sound like?
Jiang Cheng’s fingers were gripping the whip tightly enough for his fingers to turn white. He knew this was all Lan Xichen’s fault. He hated him. He resented him. Xichen should die.
He raised his hand and the whip flashed across the dungeon’s stale air. It crashed against the skin lower than ever before, cutting the man’s thighs and his dick in between, the blood splattering on the black stone below. The man screamed, his head raised again and he pushed his torso against the lighter colored stone behind his back. He was sobbing loudly, gasping for air. He tried to close his legs as much as he could in his position, whining at the pain.
“You don’t regret yet,” said Jiang Cheng darkly. “But you will. Oh yes, you will.”
He kept on slashing, the whip dancing. His mind blacked out and he was moving automatically, his vision turning white.
And he kept on slashing.
And slashing.
And slashing.
Until the whip slipped from his hand, cowered in his sweat. He was panting and he nearly fell to his knees. He looked up to see the man hanging limply off the chains. Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened and he rushed forward, scrambling to find the man’s pulse. And surprisingly, it was there. He was still alive.
A primal feeling of relief shot through Jiang Cheng at the knowledge that he didn’t kill the other. The anger and hate were tiring and suddenly Jiang Cheng only felt bone-crushing exhaustion. He could no longer go on.
He pulled his dagger and pressed it against the man’s throat. He breathed in, observing the unconscious face. There were three slashes across it, but it was mostly intact. Killing him would be showing mercy. Jiang Cheng could spare the man a terrible fate of slowly bleeding out.
A breath in. A breath out.
Jiang Cheng removed his dagger and left the cell, calling across his shoulder: “Seal it! I don’t want another person near it!”
“Sir?”
Jiang Cheng was again shaken from his memories. He looked at the servant that was gripping his shoulder and the man moved away like they’d gotten burned.
“S-Sir I …” he stuttered, his eyes desperately searching for a way out. “I apologize, I did not recognize you. I’ll go now.”
He turned and ran down the hallway as fast as he could.
Jiang Cheng stared behind him and his mouth slowly morphed into a smile. He couldn’t believe his luck. After all this time, here was the last one.
Jiang Cheng would come back to the dungeon, back when he was still in his teens. He’d sneak in through the sealed doors and press his dagger against the man’s neck. He wasn’t like his captors. He was better. He could be merciful if he so wished …
But when the man’s eyes opened, he simply stared at Jiang Cheng. And the young man stumbled away, his eyes wide and shaken. He ran away, resealing the door. But no door could stop the bloodied corpse from haunting him in his dreams, screaming with empty eyes and broken teeth.
“Thank you.”
Lan Huan accepted the cup of tea handed to him by Jin Guangyao, who merely shrugged in reply. It seemed his friend had calmed down enough to take them away from the rest of the leaders for a talk. He felt sorry for his earlier outburst. He was usually so collected, so above the petty insults, he couldn’t understand what had come over him. He felt shaken. He felt haunted by those piercing gray eyes. He looked down and saw his hands were trembling, and he willed them to stay still.
A decade and a half ago the Wen’s nation began arming itself at a frightening rate. Lan Huan had just reached adulthood at sixteen at the time, preparing to lead his people instead of his uncle, as his father kept on withering away. He watched messengers come and go in worry, and suddenly, Gosu was at war. Lan Huan went from sparring with his best friend to cutting down enemies with a young kid at his back. Gods, he was so angry when he learned Yunmeng had sent their heir to join the battle, a sickly looking twelve-year-old. He could fight, and he could fight well, but he was a child . He cowered when large warriors swarmed their lines and Lan Huan could not understand. Gosu Lan was a peaceful nation filled with musicians and craftsmen, with artists and pretty maidens. Lan Huan was one of their few fighters and it came as no surprise he was sent to battle, but Yunmeng Jiang had absolutely no need to send the child. He heard whispers and rumors and he knew Jiang Fengmian wanted to name a bastard child as his heir, but this was just … too much.
And if Lan Huan was entirely honest with himself, it wasn’t just the righteous anger that heated his heart when he was close to the other. He remembered the sight of the other behind the flames and his cheeks colored.
But then the Wens were all dead and the Jins attacked the Nie … Gosu stood with their oldest ally and Yunmeng had joined the Lanling Jin through marriage and again, there was war. It still hurt when he thought about the crushing defeat they had. When he thought of how Yunmeng Jiang had burned down Cloud Recess even after they had declared defeat, of how he had accepted help from the son of a whore and gave the order that led to Yunmeng’s destruction.
“Are you okay?”
Lan Huan smiled softly and wiped the lone tear slipping down his cheek. He looked at his friend fondly and nodded. He felt comforted by the fact that he still had someone by his side.
“I am sorry,” he said. “About earlier.”
A-Yao hummed, sitting next to Lan Huan and sipping his tea in silence. Neither of them felt like eating and rejoining the nest of snakes in the main hall felt sickening. He remembered how the snake was associated with Lan’s gentle ladies and his cup got a tiny crack.
He wanted to ask A-Yao about Yunmeng’s leader, about how could monster like that still be in charge. But just the thought left a bad taste in his mouth.
“You’ve changed,” he noted instead. “Your marriage, is it going well?”
A-Yao offered him a blinding smile. He had tensed momentarily when Lan Huan had mentioned change, but he relaxed right after.
“It is, actually,” he said softly. “We are very happy together.”
Lan Huan cherished the gentle faraway look his friend got when talking about his wife. They had gotten married months prior and Lan Huan was nothing if not happy for them. However, it reminded him of his own miserable nonexistent love life and he sighed.
“What about you?” asked Jin Guanyao mischievously, as if he knew it was going to sting. “No lady Lan yet?”
“No,” replied Lan Huan dejectedly. It wasn’t like he was a bad match, the opposite in fact - he was the number one desired man in the area. But he had scars that refused to heal and he was very careful of his heart. He got scared at the thought of entrusting it to somebody else again, especially when his childhood crush had ended so badly. Maybe he could get a wife after this meeting. It was about time and he wasn’t getting any younger. He was already over thirty, he should be expecting grandchildren by now, not spending all of his days alone. He should entrust his marriage to a matchmaker. While the Lans prided themselves on their ability to love freely, they also needed heirs and a madam to produce them.
Lan Huan let out another long sigh and then forced his lips into a smile.
He was about to ask A-Yao for a short walk in the garden before they were thrown back into the lion’s cage once again when the door flew open.
“M-master, I …” a servant rushed inside and fell to his knees before A-Yao who looked as startled as Lan Huan had felt. “I saw him, I didn’t know … Please, master, protect me!”
“What-” started Lan Huan, but was interrupted by his friend reaching out to grasp the servant’s hands in his own.
“Su She, calm down,” he commanded. “Tell me what happened.”
But it was not necessary to, not when Jiang Wanyin entered right then, his face cold and closed.
“Ah,” let out A-Yao and let go of Su She’s hands, moving closer to Lan Huan. The poor servant froze and his eyes were open wide in complete and utter panic. Lan Huan shifted and opened his mouth to address the newcomers, but when he felt his friend squeeze his arm strong enough to bruise, he stilled, looking at A-Yao with a questioning look in his eyes.
“Let’s get this over with,” growled Jiang Wanyin, walking towards them and Lan Huan glared at him as much as he was able to - his face was simply unused to the expression. He tensed when he saw the Yunmeng’s leader grab at the sword on his hip but then Su She let out a pained whine and Lan Huan’s gaze shifted to the servant, whose eyes were already shut closed. His entire body was shaking like a lone grass in the wind and he had soiled himself.
“What-” tried Lan Huan again and then stopped with a gasp. There was no time for anything else. With his eyes on the servant he completely missed Jiang Wanyin drawing his sword until it was already in the swing. “No-”
Too late.
Blood splattered over A-Yao’s chest and lap and the head of the servant fell forward with a wet sound. His body shook in its spot for another moment until it crashed down sideways, the legs still twitching occasionally. A single line of blood from the sword’s swing trailed across Lan Huan’s face.
He balked.
A-Yao seemed most upset about the state of his clothes, but Lan Huan couldn’t stay still. He was raised to fight injustice and he was not going to let anyone walk around slaughtering innocent people, especially not when it happened right in front of the Lan’s leader.
He jumped to his feet, wiping away the blood with one hand and drawing his sword with the other.
“How dare you,” he snapped. The other seemed uninterested, cleaning his sword and smirking to himself like he’d just heard a joke only he understood. Even when Lan Huan approached with his sword drawn, he merely looked up lazily and rolled his eyes. And then, as if he found no threat, he returned his sword to its scabbard.
Lan Huan felt his blood boil.
How? How? How was his calm so utterly broken so fast?
His sword shook in his hand as he tried to hold himself back. He could feel A-Yao’s gaze on his back, he could feel the wary disapproval. But he couldn’t stop himself, not when he was so weirdly drawn to this man, this monster. He stopped only a breath away. He was close enough to see the dark spots in the gray orbs that suddenly stared back at him, unnerving and unbreaking. Was there anything left of the little boy that he had once grown to love?
“Master!”
A call from the entrance, a shift of Jiang Wanyin’s head, and the spell was broken.
And then Jiang Wanyin gasped, more in disbelief than pain, and looked at Lan Huan like he was seeing him for the first time. And Lan Huan looked down, looked at his hands that held the sword piercing the other’s abdomen.
“I-” he tried and failed to explain, not when even he didn’t know how it had happened.
Jiang Wanyin stumbled backward, his eyes wide when he fell. But he was still so close it would only take another slash and he’d be dead. Lan Huan would win and the world would be a safer place. But-
But at what cost? Lan Huan’s life? His land, his people?
He looked down at the fallen leader and dropped his sword.
Not for himself or his people, and not for the monster, but for the boy that had once called to him across the flames. For the young man that halted his men when Lan Huan had fully expected to be killed with his brother’s corpse still in his arms.
For that person, Lan Huan stopped.
He took a shaky break to calm his raging heart and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
“Wait!”
A blade was suddenly pressed against Lan Huan’s throat and when he swallowed, blood trickled down his neck. A fierce-looking woman held it and her face was almost disfigured by the sneer she had, her teeth showing animalistically. He barely recognized Jiang Wanyin’s earlier escort.
“Wait, master? He stabbed you!”
“Silence. Get off him.”
Lan Huan could feel her enraged huffs against his skin. Finally, she pulled away, hiding the dagger in her dress and glaring dangerously at him. He felt as if she was just waiting for him to make a wrong move that would allow her to cut him down.
“Ye Liu, what are you doing?” yelled another woman entering. “Your master is hurt!”
“I’ll get the healers,” said the third woman and hurried down the hall, away from the scene.
“So will I,” declared A-Yao, moving past Lan Huan. He looked at his friend over his shoulder as if he wanted to make sure he was alright, and then carefully moved between the two women. “Although I’m sure she knows her way. For someone so brutally truthful, you sure have excellent spies. Was it one of yours that served me tea this morning?”
Jiang Wanyin huffed a laugh and then Jin Guangyao was gone.
Lan Huan wasn’t sure what to do. Was he to apologize? Should he help? But he’d probably be stabbed if he even tried …
“Uncle!”
A loud yell broke him out of his dilemma. A young child ran into the room and startled everyone present.
“You brought him here?” questioned Jiang Wanyin in disbelief, trying to stand up. He groaned in pain afterward. Not only did he stay on the floor, but even more blood gushed out of his wound.
“You told us-” tried Ye Liu.
“Hush,” the other woman cut her off, kneeling next to her master. “I shall press on your wound. It will slow the bleeding.”
“Uncle?” the little boy said again, standing just far enough away to be in Lan Huan’s vision. “Uncle, are you alright?”
The boy was shaking, gripping his pants tightly. Lan Huan felt stricken. He never imagined Jiang Wanyin anywhere close to a child. He never heard anything about him having a nephew either.
“I am perfectly fine,” groaned Jiang Wanyin, convincing nobody.
“You!” the boy glared at Lan Huan, his eyes flashing murderously. “Evil man! I’ll have you killed for this!”
Evil man? Lan Huan felt wronged. It was the boy’s uncle that was the bad one here!
“Jin Ling,” called Jiang Wanyin, who Lan Huan was sure should be speaking way less. “Come here.”
The boy burst into tears and jumped into his uncle’s embrace. Even Lan Huan flinched at the sight. It had to have hurt like hell and yet Jiang Wanyin only laughed. This was the first time he saw him laughing so freely like that, so gently. He carefully wrapped the boy in his arms, and wiped the tears that kept on flowing from his eyes.
“You brat,” he said with a rough voice that clearly hid affection. “Why are you bawling like this? Stop being such a cry baby or I’ll break your legs!”
Oh look, old Jiang Wanyin was back.
Speaking of people being back, A-Yao rushed in with Ye Liu and a small army of healers in tow. He was all smiles with Jiang Wanyin who rolled his eyes.
“You all act like I’m dying!” he accused them and his nephew who barely calmed down started bawling again.
“A-Huan?” whispered A-Yao so close to his friend nobody could hear them. “With all due respect, please leave.”
Lan Huan nodded with his heart in his throat and he turned to leave. The last thing he saw in the room was the boy, Jin Ling, Jiang Wanyin’s nephew, hugging Jin Guangyao’s leg and tugging at his clothes.
His cries followed Lan Huan down the long hallway.
“Catch the evil man! He hurt my uncle! Don’t let him get away! Kill him! I want him dead!”
“I postponed the meeting for you until tomorrow.”
“Really? I’m delighted,” replied Jiang Cheng with a sneer. Jin Guangyao merely graced that with a smile of his own, hiding his feelings behind his everlasting facade.
He was brought back to his room to recuperate. Not that one day would surface, but he was battle-hardened and his pain tolerance was ridiculously high. If nothing else he could sit straight, surrounded by cockroaches and mosquitoes at the meeting and pretend to listen. One of his Spiders approached with a cup of medicine and he grimaced, already knowing what it will taste like. He raised himself higher, the blanket covering his body slipping lower. His hands trembled when they took his entire weight and pain shot through his nerves, sweat gathering on his forehead.
“You’re still here?” he rasped at the bloody Jin in clear dismissal. Jin Guangyao let out a sigh and got up from his kneeling position next to Jiang Cheng’s bed.
“As much as I love to see you suffer,” he replied, his clothes rustling when he turned on his heels. “I want to make sure none of your graceful female friends touched my friend while I was gone.”
Jiang Cheng sneered again, grabbing the cup from the Spider and muttered: “I should have cut his neck long ago.”
Jin Guangyao paused, his hand on the door.
“And yet, you didn’t,” he said, his voice curious. “He can order the death of your family. He can stab you. But you never retaliate. Why? Don’t tell me you-”
An empty cup crashed against the wall next to the Jin leader’s head and he flinched away from the shards, leaving before Jiang Cheng could do more.
Jiang Cheng doubled over, coughing. His wounds burned at the strain and he gritted his teeth hard enough it hurt.
And yet, you didn’t.
Just what does that snake know? Just what … does he know?
“Sir …”
“Leave me alone,” he growled, pushing the Spider away. She moved as he willed it, bowing low and gripping her stormcloud-colored dress in dismay. He wished he could suffer alone like he always did, hidden away in the dark corners of Lotus Pier, his memories filled with blood and pain. He felt himself breaking apart, mind-numbing pain mixing with the anxiety of an unknown room and the dangers praying upon his people behind the peaceful facades of the nations around. He felt inadequate. If it had been someone else, someone wiser or stronger or more charismatic like Wei Wuxian was, then peace would have come easier and the worry of his nation would lessen. He had allies, yes, but those snakes would smile and stab him in the back the moment he showed it. He coughed again.
All he could do was make everyone fear him. And when people were afraid, truly afraid, then even the thought of going to war with Yunmeng filled them with terror. But he had enemies so numerous just the task of remembering their names and origin required an extra servant. And Jiang Cheng was tired and wary. And he was … lonely.
“Uncle?”
“Brat,” he greeted, his mouth twisting into a smirk. “Look at those red eyes. My nephew, such a crybaby.”
“I wasn’t crying!” flared Jin Ling, his little fists hitting the side of Jiang Cheng’s bed. The Spider that brought his little nephew smiled softly at them and he shivered. Nothing good ever came from the toxic flower’s affection.
“Uncle?”
“Yeah?”
Jin Ling, who was kneeling by his bed with his chest pressed against Jiang Cheng’s blanket and his neck twisted so he could look at his uncle, faltered as if he wasn’t sure how to say it.
“You won’t die?” he finally got out, his voice trembling.
“I’m not as weak as your golden good for nothing uncle,” Jiang Cheng snorted, flicking Jin Ling’s forehead. “I’ll be fine.”
“But mother …”
“What about her?”
“People say she died because she was weak.”
Jiang Cheng breathed in harshly, his fingers gripping Jin Ling’s shoulder strong enough for the other to flinch.
“She was heartbroken for months,” he said, his voice hard. “Your father, the love of her life, had been murdered. But she would never- She had you and she loved you with all her heart. When she got sick, she fought as hard as she could. She was not weak, Jin Ling. She was the strongest person I knew.”
“Even stronger than grandma?” Jin Ling’s eyes were huge and Jiang Cheng chuckled quietly. It seemed the Spiders were spreading tales.
“There are different kinds of strengths,” he reminded the child.
“So not stronger than grandma?”
“You brat …”
Lan Huan was waiting. He felt the cup shatter in his hands and he sighed at the feeling of hot liquid burning his palm. He sat in his room, eyes closed and head turned sideways like he was deep in thought. What he was waiting for he himself was not sure. Maybe a Spider creeping in or Jiang’s leader rushing through the door, finishing what he should have ended years ago.
The tea dripped down his hand onto the floor.
Not for the first time he wished things were simpler. He wished he was one of the righteous good and Jiang Wanyin was the corrupted evil. But he had held that child so gently, so unlike the monster he was rumored to be, and in the eyes of the young boy Lan Huan was the evil one. Was everything really as black and white as it seemed?
And yet Jiang Wanyin had executed a man without any hesitation or remorse and the blood that splattered across Lan Huan’s face was all the proof he needed to condemn the other.
And yet.
Lan Huan had stabbed him and he was still alive. What kind of crime could the servant have committed to incur Jiang Wanyin’s wrath?
He heard the door slide open and flinched, bracing himself. He opened his eyes and slowly got to his feet, his gaze focused on the small cuts on his wet hand. If he had to die, he’d do so standing.
“It’s just me,” whispered A-Yao and Lan Huan relaxed, his shoulders sagging. He turned to greet his friend, both of their smiles so pleasant and yet so fake.
“Jiang Wanyin …” he started, stopping as if he was unable to say it.
“He will live,” A-Yao mercifully supplied. “He will even join tomorrow’s meeting. Probably. He might use his injury to bail-”
He stopped talking when he saw Lan Huan’s face cracking and he let out a sigh.
“It will be alright,” he finished. But it did little to soothe Lan Huan’s worries.
“I don’t understand,” said Lan Huan, sinking back to his knees and Jin Guangyao hurriedly followed. “I don’t understand him. Why does he act like that? Why did he have to kill that man? And I- I don’t understand myself. I didn’t want to speak so cruelly, to say those words. I didn’t want to stab him. I didn’t- I don’t understand. Is he wrong? Am I?”
He rubbed his face, aftershock and stress making him dizzy.
“Tell me,” he said softly, looking at his friend, at the elaborate golden robes that shone in the light of the setting sun seeping in through the window. “How do I fix this?”
Jin Guangyao let out another sigh, pulling out a handkerchief and starting to clean his friend’s hand.
“I already told you, the only way is through marriage,” he replied and Lan Huan shook his head.
“I can’t,” he said brokenly. “I can’t sacrifice my subjects-”
“Not them,” interrupted Jin Guangyao. “You.”
“Me? You want me to-”
“Marry Jiang Wanyin? Yes.”
“But he is a man!”
“So was your brother’s love and I didn’t think you minded.”
“He needs heirs that I cannot give.”
“If you’re willing to sacrifice yourself, I can convince him,” A-Yao’s words sounded final. “But do not think for a moment it is anything but a sacrifice. I don’t know if he hates you or likes you, but his eyes never leave your face. I can convince him, of that I am certain. But are you willing? To sacrifice the rest of your life for your clan to live and flourish?”
Lan Huan gritted his teeth at the stabbing pain he felt at those words, his amber eyes closing in resignation. He clenched the fabric on his chest, feeling his heart beating wildly underneath. There was nothing but despair in store for him, so why was there hope bursting through his veins? Why was the answer begging to be let out, every breath pushing against his tongue, willing it to move?
“Yes,” he said, and it sounded just as final.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“First of all ... It’s too fucking early for your bullshit, Jin Guanyao. Go bug someone else.”
Jiang Cheng was grumpy. He had been woken at an unholy hour of six because Jin Guanyao had to talk to him before the meeting. The Spider emphasized the word urgent and that the meeting was fastly approaching - the same meeting Jiang Cheng was planning to skip due to his injury acting up. Which was a lie, but Jiang Cheng was no Lan and had no plan to be honest when it came to boring talks.
But not even in his wildest dreams could he have expected to be asked to marry Lan Xichen by Jin’s weasel the moment he approached him in the gardens outside. He loosened the sash around his waist as if his wound was hurting, the purple clothes widening around his body. It was about time to get in the act.
“Please, humor me,” said Jin Guangyao and Jiang Cheng sighed. He could either be honest, fall down in fake pain or call his army and storm Lanling so he didn’t have to answer. This entire conference was turning into a huge pain in the ass.
“You want me to be honest?” he hissed, retying his sash. “You think I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing? You got married and she’s expecting, isn’t she? And you want me to marry a man so I can’t get heirs and have no choice to name Jin Ling as my successor - and then you can give Lanling to your little bastard. Only it was never yours to give.”
Jin Guangyao was impressively standing his ground and Jiang Cheng almost missed that he was sweating. His smile never wavered. All the more reason to get rid of him as soon as possible.
“I already planned to name Jin Ling as my hair,” he continued, watching how Jin Guangyao’s eyes went wide. “But only because I don’t want him to rule the ruins Lanling will be in after I’m done with you. Because believe me, nothing would please me more than your head on the spike above the walls. And the only reason you’re not there already is that you seem to be quite good at protecting my nephew.”
Jin Guangyao opened his mouth but Jiang Cheng continued before he could say anything.
“There are six years left until Jin Ling’s coming of age. I will marry Lan Xichen as you want. I will even take Jin Ling to Lotus Pier for some time. You can spend the time I gave you to reflect on your priorities and think of how painful your death will be, how slowly your wife and child will die if you cross me. And in six years, I will give Jin Ling his throne, deal with you as I see fit and send Lan Xichen’s head back to his clan. Just the head, do you hear me?”
After he was done with his speech, Jiang Cheng felt the movement he had missed in the heat of the moment. He knew who it was just by the way Jin Guangyao paled and his dark eyes widened in surprise and recognition.
“I hear you,” replied Lan Xichen behind him quietly. Jiang Cheng refused to turn and see how his words had affected him. He was already too weak when it came to the other leader.
“Good,” he said roughly. “Then you understand.”
He left without another word, making it all the way to the familiar hallway outside his room before collapsing, pain shooting through his abdomen. Blood was dripping down his body and darkening his purple robes. He groaned, his hand reaching out and his eyes taking in the sight of Spiders running towards him before he blacked out.
Bloody conference.
Bloody Lan Xichen.
Lan Huan was nervously rubbing at the red robes. He knew he was breathing faster than he should, but he couldn’t help himself. Only when he left the sight of the mountains behind, probably forever, did it really set in that he was about to be sacrificed. The air went from cold and refreshing to hot and humid, the plants from tough and resilient to soft and luxurious. His horse’s hooves left imprints in the mud along the lake he followed, a cloud of mosquitoes rising from the liquid and stalking their white-clothed target. The day was perfectly aligned with Lan Huan’s emotional state - the heavy clouds cast a shadow across the land and threatened with rain.
He had decided to go alone, afraid for the lives of his subjects should Jiang Cheng change his mind or be in any way displeased by the arrangement. His uncle fell sick when he learned what Lan Huan had agreed to do and it even further crushed the young leader’s resolve. He let his subordinates handle Gosu’s affairs, a shimmer of hope remaining. Jiang Wanyin promised him six years and in those six years Lan Shizui and Lan Yingji would become old enough to take over. He visited them before he left, making Shizui - older, always so mature - promise him Gosu would not seek revenge no matter what happened. He was doing this so they could live and if nothing else, he would give Jiang Wanyin no reason to hurt them.
The treeline next to the lake cleared and he could see an even bigger lake on the other side, and a large city behind it. His breath caught at the sight of many pink buds swaying on the water’s surface. He turned his steed, a pure white thing with golden reins, towards the city. The people of Lotus Pier were clearly expecting a downfall and the thousand little stalls along the main road were closed, the streets empty. But he could see the warm fires in the inns and tea houses, the innkeepers calling for travelers and promising delicious food and excellent wine. Did any of them remember Gosu Lan’s leader that had caused them so much pain? Were they expecting him? Lan Huan rode on, his head low.
He arrived at the entrance to the fortified center of the city, Jiang Cheng’s residence. Six guards waited there, their faces grim as they considered the prospect of standing by the gate in the rain. Their eyes darkened even further when they spotted the newcomer, their expressions hostile.
“Who goes there?” asked one of them, as if there wasn’t recognition written all over his posture.
“Lan Xichen from Gosu Lan,” Lan Huan introduced himself politely, jumping down from his horse and holding the reins in his hand. “I was invited by Jiang Wanyin-”
“Insolent!” shouted another guard. “How dare you call the master by his name!”
Lan Huan sighed and his grip on the reins tightened. He was tired from the journey, he was exhausted from the emotions battling inside him and he was devastated from the weight the sight of Yunmeng had put on him. The guilt was chewing him from inside out, crashing violently against his memory of his dead brother in his arms probably at this very spot. He had no strength left to fight with the stubborn guards.
“Please,” he said politely, his head bowed as if he was below them. “Let me meet with master Jiang.”
“Hmph!”
The guards would suffer this night and they were determined to make Lan Huan suffer with them. They still stood at a standstill when the first drops fell, wetting Lan Huan’s neck and sliding under his collar. He unwillingly shivered, the fatigue rearing its ugly head when he was hit with the cold wind and the even colder rain. He could hear the voices of the guards but he could not make out the words with his fading mind. He staggered, the voices still ringing with a mocking tone. His legs were shaking and he was sure he was going to fall, but at the last moment, a strong hand grabbed him by the waist and held him up. He felt the heat pressing against his back and he leaned towards it, craving the contact.
“Did you not tell them to let you in?” hissed Jiang Wanyin in his ear and Lan Huan vaguely felt wronged.
“I did,” he let out, his entire weight still resting on the other.
“Come on then. Do you want to get me even wetter?”
Lan Huan felt a tug at his hand and he let go, his horse being led away through the rain by a servant.
“Sorry,” he murmured and shivered.
“Shit, we need to get you out of this. Let’s hurry then.”
Lan Huan saw the ceremony unfold through a daze. There was no celebration and he was pulled through the bows, Jiang Wanyin rushing every step. Before he was even truly aware of himself, he was in his new chambers, his clothes being pulled off and a warm blanket was thrown across his naked skin. He pulled it closed, wrapping himself in the soft purple fabric.
Suddenly he realized what was about to happen and it was enough to banish the fog from his mind, horror stirring in his stomach. He fought the urge to make himself seem smaller, peeking up to see what the other was doing.
Jiang Wanyin was slowly lighting the candles the servants had prepared beforehand, brightening the room one flame at a time. He had to have undressed earlier when Lan Huan wasn’t watching because he was showing his naked back and only wore wet pants that left nothing to the imagination. Lan Huan swallowed thickly when he saw the sculptured butt below the lean back and tiny waist.
If only he could think of the other as nothing more than a beautiful body …
There were scars on his back too, old and long healed. Lan Huan had his fair share, but nothing as deep as the ones Jiang Wanyin was showing him. And then the other turned and he saw.
There were many more scars on his chest, so many he couldn’t tell them apart. Not even the sculptured muscles and pretty lines could hide the fact that Jiang Wanyin’s body was a battlefield. He tried to focus on other things to forget just who he was watching. He looked at the sharp jawline, at the long hair the other had let free that was curving slightly from the braids. At the obvious bulge in the pants that stuck to his skin.
Jiang Wanyin marched forward and the heat burned along with the horror in Lan Huan’s belly. He felt one hand on his shoulder while the other touched his face, tilting it upwards. He closed his eyes and was kissed, gently and shortly before Jiang Wanyin moved away again.
His first kiss.
Then Jiang Wanyin was kissing him again, this time longer and messier. Before Lan Huan knew what was happening, the other deepened the kiss and the heat burning in his stomach flared. He moaned into the other’s mouth.
He didn’t want this, but he desperately needed it. He felt Jiang Wanyin’s leg press against his half-erect cock and he clawed at the other’s back, pulling him closer. Just when their lips separated to breathe he felt hands slip under his blanket, brushing across his trembling belly and his sensitive nipples. He threw his head back, Jiang Wanyin using the chance to bite at his neck and then his collar bone. Lan Huan was now constantly letting out low breathy moans and huffs, his mind gone with pleasure.
He rarely even attended to himself, his upbringing strict and his touches slow and clumsy, the mind numbing pleasure so unfamiliar to him. He nearly screamed when Jiang Wanyin wrapped his hand around his length, fondling him expertly while still licking at his chest. His entire body was trembling and the heat was building like a giant flood that was about to crush the dam still holding it back and break free-
He was about to come and he needed it, he wanted it, he was crying out in desperate bliss he felt-
But this was Jiang Wanyin …
And suddenly he could no longer do it, he could not let go when that was his enemy’s hand around his cock …
“No!” he gasped and went ignored. “Let me go!”
Jiang Wanyin bit his nipple, climbing entirely on top of Lan Huan, disregarding the other’s begging.
“Stop touching me!”
Lan Huan pushed at the other, gritting his teeth. He wrapped his hand around the other’s where it moved across his length, but that only made him feel better and he moaned, the sensations battling with his steeled mind.
“Your scars,” he growled in despair, his body right on the verge of breaking and his cock twitching in Jiang Wanyin’s hold. “You deserve them, every one of them. You monster.”
Finally, Jiang Wanyin let go and Lan Huan cried out in a desperate wish that he hadn’t. He was leaking and his hips were moving on their own.
“You-” Jiang Wanyin’s voice was full of rage. He moved before Lan Huan could react and wrapped his hands around the other’s neck, squeezing and making Lan Huan squirm in pain. He immediately tried to push Jiang Wanyin off, to pry open the tightening hold, but then as suddenly as he had started, Jiang Wanyin stopped choking him and jumped away from the bed. There was a cold anger in those silver eyes and his fists were clenched.
“Pathetic,” he spat at the lying man, throwing his robe across his shoulders and marching out into the rain.
Lan Huan was still trembling on the bed, shame filling every corner of his mind. After all, there was a stickiness on his stomach and his cock was lying spent. He came the moment Jiang Wanyin had wrapped his hands around Lan Huan’s neck. And not only that. He wanted more, his entire body filled with the want to be touched again.
He cleaned himself off with his wet clothes and then hid them away as if he could no longer bear to look at them. He wrapped himself in the blanket, feeling the tears gather behind his closed eyelids.
The rain was gently tapping on the roof.