Chapter Text
The spring evening in the Cloud Recesses was exceptionally quiet. Outside the Jingshi, the wind whispered through the pine trees, carrying the faint, crisp scent of cold mountain air. Inside, however, the atmosphere was thick with a comfortable, lingering warmth.
Wei Wuxian sat cross-legged on the polished wooden floor, his black robes pooling around him in a messy halo. In front of him sat a modest wooden crate, its lid already pried open.
"Lan Zhan! Come look at this," Wei Wuxian called out, his voice practically vibrating with curiosity. "Another late wedding gift. Though, this one didn't come through the front gates with the others. I found it sitting right on our porch steps."
From behind the privacy screen, Lan Wangji emerged. He had already dressed for bed in his immaculate, snow-white inner robes, his long dark hair flowing freely down his back without its usual silver crown. He walked with silent, measured grace, his golden eyes instantly locking onto his husband.
"An unregistered delivery?" Lan Wangji asked, a faint crease forming between his elegant brows.
"Fret not, Hanguang-Jun, your sect’s formidable wards are perfectly intact," Wei Wuxian laughed, waving a hand dismissively. "Besides, look. There's a note."
He picked up a slip of heavy parchment that had been resting atop the crate. The handwriting was elegant, written in sweeping, anonymous strokes:
For the Yiling Patriarch, whose mind never rests, and the Light Bearer, who carries his warmth. May this bring a night of true, undivided peace.
"No signature," Wei Wuxian murmured, flipping the paper over to find it completely blank. "How mysterious! I wonder if it’s from Huaisang? Or perhaps one of the juniors trying to be clever?"
He reached into the crate and pulled out the gift. It was a small, heavy incense burner made of dark, tarnished bronze. At first glance, it looked like any ordinary burner one might find in a tea house, shaped like a sleeping lotus blossom. But as Wei Wuxian turned it over in his hands, his fingers brushed against faint, intricate spiritual carvings etched along the base—runes that whispered of dream-weaving and soul-soothing magic.
"It is a spiritual tool," Lan Wangji noted, kneeling beside Wei Wuxian. His shoulder brushed against his husband's, a steady, grounding presence. "Do not light it hastily."
"Oh, Lan Zhan, where is your sense of adventure?" Wei Wuxian teased, leaning sideways to press his shoulder heavily into Lan Wangji's. "It says it's for 'undivided peace.' And look at these runes—they aren't malicious. They’re designed to calm the spirit. Besides, after all the running around we've done lately, don't you think we deserve a thoroughly peaceful night?"
Lan Wangji looked at the burner, and then at the bright, sparkling eagerness in Wei Wuxian’s gray eyes. As always, he found himself utterly unable to deny his husband anything.
"Mn," Lan Wangji relented softly. "Just a small trial."
"That's my Hanguang-Jun!" Wei Wuxian beamed.
With a flick of his fingers, Wei Wuxian channeled a tiny spark of spiritual energy, lighting the dark incense cone resting inside the bronze lotus. He placed the lid back on, and almost immediately, a thin ribbon of pale, pearlescent smoke began to curl from the seams of the metal petals.
The scent was unlike anything they had burned in the Jingshi before. It carried the familiar, grounding notes of Gusu's sandalwood, but beneath it lay a sweet, intoxicating undertone of lotus pond breeze and night-blooming jasmine.
"Ah... that actually smells incredible," Wei Wuxian murmured, inhaling deeply. He propped his chin in his hand, watching the smoke rise. "Lan Zhan, don't you think- "
He stopped.
A sudden, profound heaviness settled over his limbs. The edges of the Jingshi began to blur, the warm glow of the candles stretching into long, shimmering halos. The gentle hum of the mountain breeze outside felt miles away.
Lan Wangji blinked, his usually sharp golden eyes clouding over with a thick, sleepy haze. He reached out, his hand instinctively searching for Wei Wuxian’s wrist, but his fingers felt heavy, as if moving through deep water.
"Wei Ying..." Lan Wangji’s voice was barely a whisper, thick with an irresistible slumber.
"Lan... Zhan..." Wei Wuxian tried to laugh, but it came out as a soft, breathless sigh. His body tilted sideways, completely devoid of energy, and he tumbled straight into Lan Wangji’s lap.
Lan Wangji didn't have the strength to lift him. Instead, he let his own body sink backward onto the soft mats of the Jingshi, pulling Wei Wuxian securely against his chest.
As their eyes drifted shut, sealing them into a deep, inescapable sleep, the pale smoke from the bronze burner grew thicker. It poured over the edges of the table like a slow-moving waterfall, pooling around the floor and spiraling upward. The pearlescent fog curled lovingly around their tangled, slumbering figures, wrapping them in a silent, dream-woven cocoon as their minds slipped away from reality.