Trajectory

Lan Xichen considers himself a simple man.

For as long as he can remember, he’s only wanted one thing: for his loved ones to be content. He’s way too much of a pragmatist to wish everyone to be happy, but contentment, that is achievable. Of course, achievable does not equal easy, a thing he learned when he and Wangji were young. Mother was neither happy nor content and Father…well. Who knows what Father really thought about anything.

And Uncle? 

For starters, Xichen is quite sure that Uncle not only doesn’t know what true happiness means but that he also doesn’t even wish to. Uncle strives for harmony and contentment and the eradication of excess feelings on either end of the positive-negative spectrum of human emotions. Some people might call it placidity but as far as Xichen is aware, Uncle has been content with his life and the sect for a long time. He likes when things are calm, controlled, predictable. Safe.

Many things change when Cangse Sanren’s son arrives at the Cloud Recesses.

Sometimes, Xichen wonders if Uncle, contrary to his claims, actually thrives on low-key conflict. Is it unfilial to think so? He isn’t sure. But somehow, Uncle has this certain spring to his steps whenever he yells at Wei Wuxian who, albeit undeniably brilliant, is also an unrepentant nuisance.

Wei Wuxian is completely opposite to everything the Lan clan stands for—at least at first glance it might seem so. In reality, he’s so much more: his cultivation rivals Wangji’s, he’s smart and quick, and he’s unabashed in his expressions of genuine kindness. His unbridled curiosity and constant need to question the Lan sect rules grate on Uncle’s nerves but Xichen hears the questions he’s really asking and finds himself nodding along.

The fact that he’s an omega shouldn’t mean anything. Yes, The Lan Sect has strict rules about the segregation of the genders but they are not strangers to their baser instincts. However, their rut and heat cycles are carefully curated and prepared for maximum control and comfort. 

And then Wangji goes into an unscheduled, almost violent rut that Xichen is hesitant to call a mating rut but what definitely looks (and smells) like one.

If they were anyone else, in any other situation, Xichen is sure everything would’ve ended happily.

But they weren’t.

And it doesn’t.

And not stepping up is a personal failure Xichen will live with for the rest of his life.

He’s always known that there was something not quite right about Mother and Father’s union but despite his questions, he never got any straightforward answers. Uncle has never hidden his opinion about Mother and his displeasure has always been strengthened by his complete lack of interest in the whole topic. Then again, it might also have something to do with the fact that Uncle is a beta and, therefore, can never truly understand the full power of the alpha/omega dynamics.

While mates and mating isn’t a forbidden topic in the Cloud Recesses, it’s hard to talk about something Uncle systematically refuses to talk about. 

(”Why are you locked in here?” Xichen had asked Mother shortly before her death. ”Aren’t mates supposed to live together?”

”World is a complicated place. Some things are dubious,” she’d said gently. ”And some things are unforgivable. I did the latter.”

Xichen hadn’t understood. ”Why? What does that have to do with anything?”

She’d smiled and stroked his hair. ”I’ve written you a letter, A-Huan,” she’d said. ”Hopefully your Uncle lets you read it when it’s time.”

And then she’d refused to talk about it anymore.)

By the time Xichen finally gets his hands on Mother’s letter, it’s already too late.

He’s seen Wangji struggle with a building attraction that crushes him under feelings he’s not yet ready to face, not by himself and certainly not with Wei Wuxian’s carefree attitude added to the mix. And then Uncle, who is nowhere near ready to handle anything like this when it concerns his own nephews, makes a terrible mistake.

Xichen tries to do damage control but he’s out of his depth, too. 

He tries to console Wei Wuxian when he leaves and Wei Wuxian flinches away from him like Xichen was about to strike him.

He tries to explain things to Wangji, to reason with him, to tell him why Uncle behaved like he did and it blows on his face. He’s seen Wangji sad and he’s seen Wangji devastated but he’s never seen him so angry. His little brother vibrates with rage as he yells, first at him and then at Uncle, accusing him of short-sightedness and cruelty, of not living up to the Rules. 

Xichen watches, wide-eyed and shocked, as his family turns against each other and tears into each other, both hurting, both blind to the other’s pain.

He sees Uncle wrap the rules around himself like yet another robe and become even more rigid. 

He sees Wangji accept his punishment without a word, a new kind of coldness in his eyes.

There’s never been a question if Xichen is to find a mate or not. He’s the next sect leader, it’s his duty. Uncle has been training him as the next sect leader since he was ten and, as soon as he comes of age, Uncle starts transferring the duties of Sect Leader Lan to him. One of those duties is the continuation of the Lan line. If Wangji got mated and produced legitimate heirs, Xichen wouldn’t have to but with things are as they are…well. He feels like that path is no longer there.

He doesn’t have many thoughts about the whole issue. He knows that whatever will happen, will happen eventually. He isn’t a fatalist but he also knows that there’s a storm brewing on the horizon. Things are changing and Xichen is careful by nature. He likes to think things through. However, he doesn’t have strong opinions about himself or his future mate—he knows he’s likable and he’s confident he’ll get along with anyone who will take the place by his side in the future, whether male or female, regardless of their secondary genders. (Although he has to admit he’s fervently relieved Young Maiden Yao is, indeed, way too young to be even considered as a candidate.)

And then he visits Unclean Realm as per Mingjue’s request. It’s a strange gathering because he meets with Mingjue, of course, but also with Madam Yu of Yunmeng Jiang and a couple of minor sect heirs, including one from the Zhoushan Zhao clan. Xichen has a feeling the gathering wasn’t originally Mingjue’s idea but he can’t quite wrap his head around why Nie Huaisang would want it to happen. Mingjue’s young omega brother might seem soft and delicate but he has a certain look in his eyes that tells of a sharp and cunning mind. Xichen often wonders just how much Mingjue knows about what his brother is up to and if he does, who actually runs the sect.

Be as it may, the meeting itself is rather harrowing. It always is with Yu Ziyuan present; she’s a formidable woman but she barely bothers to keep her powers under control and her temperament is…well. The less said about her temperament the better. Xichen is happy when the meeting calls to an early end and when Nie Huaisang asks if he’d like to take a walk in the garden, Xichen is grateful for the suggestion.

The Nie gardens are different from the Cloud Recesses gardens. They’re more rural and sturdy which isn’t a surprise, considering Qinghe’s weather. The Cloud Recesses is damp and cold but it’s nothing compared to the biting, dry frost that buries Qinghe under heaps of snow each winter. The gardens have to be more robust to thrive. They have tenacity and stamina Xichen finds refreshing.

He’s walking slowly and taking in the scents of early evening when he hears someone playing the guqin. Their style is different from Wangji’s, not as strictly structured but more free-flowing, almost like the musician is improvising. He follows the sound to a shielded inner courtyard and stays under the shadow of the building and just listens. 

The musician is a young man, around Wangji’s age or slightly older, and even though his hair is braided in the Nie style, he isn’t wearing Nie robes. He doesn’t look like he belongs to the Nie household but something tells Xichen he isn’t a commoner or a servant, either. He looks serene as he plays and when the music finally fades away, Xichen can’t quite stifle a soft sigh.

The man stiffens.

As Xichen steps forward to apologize, the man’s scent reaches him. An omega, he reprimands himself. How inconsiderate of me, of course he’d be alarmed.

”I apologize,” he says. ”I didn’t mean to disturb you. It’s just…” The omega’s scent soft and subtle and something about it eases the headache that’s been brewing behind Xichen’s eyes and his voice trails away without him noticing.

The omega glances up and something flashes in his eyes, too fast for Xichen to decipher. ”What can I do for you, Sect Leader Lan?” He asks. His voice is polite, soft, and very carefully controlled.

Oh. He recognized me that fast? Xichen marvels and then says, ”If I may be so bold, I enjoyed your playing.” 

”Thank you, Sect Leader Lan,” the omega says. ”Would you wish me to play more?”

Something blooms in Xichen’s chest. ”Please,” he says.

The omega plays two more pieces, short, simple songs Xichen doesn’t know, and then he excuses himself and leaves. Xichen watches him walk away and disappear behind a corner before he realizes the omega never offered his name.

He forgets the intriguing omega when his whole world turns upside down. Someone in the Cloud Recesses sold them out to the Wen, weakened their wards on purpose, and let the Wen soldiers in. Xichen feels sick as he witnesses his home being violated, his disciples being cut down, his Uncle—

He wants to fight. He wants to stay and make a stand. He hasn’t seen Wangji in weeks after his mysterious new rut and the following, disastrous visit to Lotus Pier. But he can’t leave Uncle and Father, he needs to—

”Your father is dead, Xichen!” Uncle gasps, pressing down on the sluggishly bleeding wound on his side. ”I don’t know where Wangji is but you have to live, Xichen. You have to run!”

Uncle shoves him a bag filled with bulging qiankun pouches and forces him out, forces him to run and leave his burning home behind. He makes it out but not before he sees Uncle fall in a pool of his own blood. And then he’s running, pushing himself on, forcing himself to keep awake, making do purely by the grace of his golden core. He doesn’t stop for food or rest, he doesn’t stop until there’s suddenly someone in front of him, and their soft scent breaks through the haze of heartbreak and fatigue.

”Sect Leader Lan! Are you injured?” Someone asks as Xichen stumbles and stops and he doesn’t…he doesn’t understand? The omega with Nie braids in his hair—is he real? Is he really there? 

Can Xichen finally stop running? 

The relief he feels is so overwhelming that he falls to his knees and starts to weep.

Slowly, he starts getting better. He rests and eats and drinks and learns that the omega’s name is Meng Yao and Xichen is in his home. The house is small with only a couple of rooms but it doesn’t feel cramped. No, its walls are sturdy and grounding, and also, Xichen has been sleeping in the omega’s bed which is nowhere near proper but Meng Yao is surprisingly stubborn about it. When Meng Yao refuses to let Xichen sleep on the floor, something about the glint in his eyes reminds Xichen of Wei Wuxian. It’s refreshing. 

But of course Xichen cannot let Meng Yao sleep on the floor of his own home. 

In the end, Xichen wins their disagreement on the sleeping arrangements simply because his cultivation is higher: he waits until Meng Yao finally nods off where he sits and then Xichen gently picks him up carries him to bed. It feels right and he gives in to the temptation of brushing a lock from Meng Yao’s cheek and then meditates on his transgression.

Oh, there’s no point denying he’s been charmed since the day he first heard Meng Yao playing in Qinghe. He looks very cute with his sweet smile and dimples that make Xichen think impure thoughts but there’s steel in his eyes and iron in his core. He’s more than a match for Xichen and the longer he stays with Meng Yao, the more he starts thinking about how to have this for the rest of his life.

So, yes, Xichen has been subconsciously aware that Meng Yao and he are compatible which means Meng Yao’s heat doesn’t come as a surprise.

No. 

But Meng Yao’s reaction does.

The omega is terrified to be in the same room with Xichen which is absolutely heartbreaking. Xichen finds himself wishing he could travel back in time and shield Meng Yao from the violation he’s clearly been through but he also wants to hold him now. He wants to make Meng Yao understand that Xichen is there for him. He wants to make sure Meng Yao knows he never has to be afraid of Xichen, ever.

He ends up holding Meng Yao through his heat. It’s not the first time Xichen has been an omega’s heat partner, but even though Meng Yao’s heat scent is purely divine, Xichen doesn’t find it in any way hard (ha) to cuddle him through it. Meng Yao is so starved for genuine kindness that Xichen finds it deeply contenting to just hold him, pet his hair, and hum Mother’s lullaby until Meng Yao’s heat-fever subsides and he falls into an exhausted sleep.

(He wishes that perhaps in the future, Meng Yao will trust Xichen to help him through a heat as a mate. But that’s something neither of them is ready to talk about now, so Xichen basks in the warmth of that wish before carefully tucking it away.)

Meng Yao kisses him when his heat has barely ended and Xichen takes it as a gift he’ll treasure for the rest of his life even if Meng Yao never wants to kiss him again.

Life gets back to normal. Xichen slowly learns how to take care of small things he’s never had to worry about before like baking, mending clothes, or tending bees. He’s astronomically bad in all of them which he might or might not exaggerate simply because he enjoys Meng Yao’s frustration and scolding. He likes the bursts of annoyance that make through his polished facade and he realizes he’d like to see a lot more of that Meng Yao. The kind who doesn’t hold himself so carefully. The kind who doesn’t always keep an eye on everyone in the room or modulate his behavior to fit other people’s needs.

He gets his wish some weeks after the heat when Meng Yao finally snaps. Xichen watches the omega yell at him in the middle of the small garden, his polished words and careful poses forgotten, a braid unraveled, and a speck of flour on his cheek. He’s gorgeous and bright and Xichen knows with sudden clarity that even if he never gets his sect back, he could learn to be content—happy—right here, with Meng Yao.

And then Meng Yao kisses him again. It’s nothing like the lazy, soft kiss after his heat; this is Meng Yao taking what he wants and Xichen yields to it, lets himself be taken. It’s glorious and Xichen wants more and more, he wants to drown in Meng Yao and never let him go.

That night, they sleep in the same bed for the first time since the heat. Meng Yao tucks himself close and Xichen draws idle patterns on the back of his sleeping robe and feels happier than in a long, long while.

He wonders if this is even a fraction of what Wangji feels for Wei Wuxian. 

He suddenly understands his brother so much better.

It’s Mingjue who tells him about the Wen indoctrination camp. Xichen is deeply ashamed that he’s been enjoying the blissful, easy domesticity in Meng Yao’s small house while the Wen have been committing atrocities, most likely torturing the heirs and disciples of other clans. So, when he gets the urgent message that Wangji is, albeit gravely injured, alive and on his way to Lotus Pier, Xichen leaves at once. (When he asks Meng Yao if he can bring Wangji back with him, Meng Yao rolls his eyes and kisses him before sending him off.)

He’s prepared for blood and sickness.

He isn’t prepared for Wangji who smells like grief and despair and cries out for Wei Wuxian in his delirium. He isn’t prepared to see a bloodied ribbon Wangji clutches in his hand or the emptiness in his eyes.

But he also isn’t prepared for the strange look that flashes across Meng Yao’s face when Xichen tells him all this after bringing Wangji home and settling him in the cot in Meng Yao’s study. He almost asks about it but then Wangji’s fever spikes again and his desperate thrashing requires Xichen’s full attention.

Thing is, Xichen might be a simple man but he isn’t stupid. He’s known for ages that Mingjue’s little brother is far more than he seems and the first time he witnessed Wei Wuxian arguing with Uncle, he recognized that the young omega had the potential to be infinitely dangerous.

And he knows Meng Yao has secrets. He knows that when Meng Yao said, ”You don’t know everything,” he was talking about something he believed could ruin the First Jade of Lan. He has no idea whether it’s personal or something related to sect politics but it doesn’t matter because Meng Yao doesn’t seem to understand that Xichen is already ruined.

The Wen burned Gusu. 

His sect got slaughtered. 

And now that he’s finally tasted happiness, Xichen will be damned if he lets something as trivial as other people’s opinions on his choices stop him from living his life. He’s a Sect Leader, he’s Zewu-jun, the First Jade of Lan. He might not be as driven (or obsessed, Uncle would say) as Wangji but by gods, he will make the Elders bend to his will if he needs to.

So, yes. Finding a mate and producing heirs is Xichen’s duty.

And he will fight for the mate he’s chosen.

”I want you with me when we take Gusu back,” Xichen says to Meng Yao one evening when they’re readying for bed.

Meng Yao glances at him from over his shoulder. ”Then I will be there,” he says with a soft smile as he braids his hair. He’s wearing a thin, pale green silk robe that has slipped slightly and bared his shoulder. The black braid creates a beautiful contrast with his skin and Xichen would very much like to kiss that shoulder and then slip the robe off completely and kiss everything else revealed from underneath it. 

Xichen tears his eyes from the enticing view and reminds himself that he was actually talking about something important.

”I’m afraid I didn’t make myself quite clear,” he says. He stands up from the bed and steps in front of Meng Yao. ”When I said I want you with me, I meant that I want you next to me. As an equal.” He reaches out to take Meng Yao’s hand in his. ”As my mate.”

The smile drops from Meng Yao’s face. ”Xichen—”

”I don’t know everything, yes, so you’ve said,” he says calmly. ”I have thought about that. If it’s something I absolutely have to know as Sect Leader Lan, then tell me. But if it’s something that doesn’t affect the sect, if it’s a personal issue…” He sighs and gently squeezes Meng Yao’s hand. ”I still would like to know but you don’t have to tell me.”

For some time, Meng Yao just looks at him. Xichen can practically see him thoroughly consider all his options, their pros and cons, what effect each decision he makes could have, will have, what will the long-term effects be. It’s fascinating and beautiful and, yes, Xichen is fully aware of just how smitten he is.

”Fine,” Meng Yao finally says. ”We probably should sit down.”

Xichen nods and sits next to the table, and then looks up with an expectant smile. 

Meng Yao takes a deep breath and then asks without quite meeting his eyes, ”Could you please turn around?”

Xichen cocks his head. Ah, the secret compartments I probably shouldn’t know even exist. ”Will turning be enough or would it make you more comfortable if I also covered my ears?” He asks.

Meng Yao closes his eyes. ”You are unbelievable,” he says under his breath and then continues with an exasperated, ”Yes, turning will be enough.”

Xichen nods and turns and then hums Clarity—but only because he just feels like it. It’s not to cover noises that could reveal where Meng Yao’s hides his secrets.

”You can turn back now,” Meng Yao says a moment later. He’s kneeling in front of Xichen, his hands framing a small box on his lap. It’s plain, made of polished dark wood, unadorned and simple, meant more for storage than displaying things.

”I grew up in a brothel,” Meng Yao starts in a calm, slightly detached voice. ”My mother worked there for the most of her life and, after she died, I stayed. I did the chores the Madam appointed me, mostly laundry and sweeping the floors and, when I got older, I also started keeping her books. Mother had taught me to play guqin and the Madam made me play to entertain the guests. She never asked me to entertain them which was mostly because my mother wanted to keep me safe.” A small, sad smile touches his lips. ”She always wanted more for me than what she ever could have for herself.

”When my mother fell ill, the Madam refused to call a doctor and I didn’t have the money to pay for one. Mother couldn’t work and I was afraid the Madam would throw us out—she did that to others who could no longer work. So, I negotiated a deal.”

Xichen tilts his head slightly as Meng Yao opens the box and sets the lid on the floor. His hands are steady and his face keeps that calm, smooth facade Xichen remembers from when they first met in Qinghe. 

He wants it gone.

”I was conceived during a bought heat,” Meng Yao continues and brushes his fingers gently over a small pouch before he takes it out of the box and hands it to Xichen. ”The alpha who bought my mother left her with a pearl and, well, me.”

Xichen glances at the pouch in his hand and then looks up at Meng Yao. At his nod, Xichen pries open the knot and opens the pouch, and then lets out a carefully controlled breath. 

”There are five pearls,” he says quietly.

Meng Yao’s expression doesn’t change. ”The doctor helped my mother but she never fully recovered and she died some years later. It made no difference because I was still bound by the deal.” 

Meng Yao’s posture is perfect. His smile is perfect. His voice is calm and perfect and Xichen hates it. He already knows where the story is going and he wants to plead Meng Yao to stop, he wants to kiss him silent and gather him in his arms but he can’t because he promised he’d listen. And he knows Meng Yao needs to tell his story.

”I was twelve when I got my first heat,” Meng Yao continues in that same, calm tone. ”The Madam informed me she had a buyer and that I would have a certain room at my disposal. She, of course, took advantage of my scent to lure in more clients but I actually think that’s common practice. Fresh heat scent is inviting, after all.

”After my heat, I asked the Madam to mark the contract completed. She didn’t like it but I insisted. That alpha is the only one who’s ever had me and I was not inclined to give her a chance to reuse the contract.” He falls silent for a moment and then hands Xichen a folded piece of paper.

”Some years later, the Madam kicked out Sisi, my only friend. I stayed and kept books and played and waited, and when I finally had the opportunity, I left. With this.” He hands a piece of folded paper to Xichen.

It’s a torn page of a book, filled with neat, precise writing on both sides. Xichen really doesn’t want to look but he opens the paper and there, in the middle of the sheet reads, Magnolia Room, Meng Yao (O), age 12, first heat, and underneath it, Purchased: Jin Guangshan.

He feels nauseous but he forces it down. This isn’t about him, this is about Meng Yao.

”Sisi and I left and set up our own business. I’ve always had a penchant for numbers so I kept with bookkeeping and she worked as a seamstress. We had a good life.” He pauses and smiles, a faraway look in his eyes. ”After she passed away, I kept working. And then, one day, I bumped into Sect Leader Nie—literally.”

Xichen lets out a surprised huff. ”How did that go?”

Meng Yao tilts his head and quirks his lips. ”He’s very tall and I’m…not,” he says and continues, more serious, ”Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang—I’m very grateful to have them in my life.” He falls silent and his shoulders curve slightly inward like he’s bracing himself for Xichen’s reaction.

Xichen leans forward, holds out his hand, and waits until Meng Yao takes it. ”I’m glad they were there for you,” he says softly, lifts Meng Yao’s hand, and presses a kiss on his knuckles. ”And I’m glad you told me. It was a very brave thing to do and it must not have been easy.” He smiles. ”I’m so proud of you.”

Meng Yao’s eyes widen slightly but he doesn’t try to yank his hand away. ”I just told you I’m the son of a prostitute and my own Sire bought my first heat.”

Xichen squeezes his hand once and then eases his hold so that Meng Yao can remove his hand if he so wishes. ”You told me you survived hardships that would’ve been too much for an adult let alone a child. And yet, you managed to take care of your friend and carved out a life for yourself in a situation where many would’ve given up,” he says.

Meng Yao’s hand twitches in Xichen’s hold. ”I stole from the Madam to pay for Sisi’s medication and food.”

”Did she pay you for playing and bookkeeping?” Xichen counters with a raised brow.

”I burned the brothel down,” Meng Yao says, slightly desperate.

”Good,” Xichen says decisively.

”I want to kill Jin Guangshan!”

”You, and so many others,” Xichen says dryly. ”Although ruining his reputation and usurping him would probably serve him better.”

Meng Yao lets out an annoyed sound and throws his hands up, his careful posture and expression forgotten.

”I’m sorry, was this discussion meant to persuade me to give you up?” Xichen asks politely. ”Because it’s not going to work.”

”Why?” Meng Yao asks, thoroughly confused.

Xichen hums as he carefully folds the paper and reties the pearl pouch before handing them back to Meng Yao. ”You told me your story,” he says. ”May I tell you mine?”

”Of course,” Meng Yao says, replaces the items in the box and closes the lid. He sets the box next to him and then cocks his head, attentive.

”Some people claim the Lan alphas are cursed,” Xichen starts. ”Originally, though, the Lan alphas were believed to have one True Mate—I know, it’s ridiculously romantic—and I think that the curse theory became more popular after what happened with mine and Wangji’s parents. I’m not sure if you’re familiar with the story but in short, our mother killed an Elder and even though she had a very good reason for her actions, it was a crime that demanded execution. Our father was one of the alphas appointed to guard her but she induced father’s rut and…” He shrugs. ”They couldn’t execute an omega who was their sect leader’s mate and carrying the next heir.”

”Hm,” Meng Yao says and narrows his eyes.

”Indeed. Father and Mother went into separate seclusions and I believe they were meant to be kept separate for the rest of their lives.” He pauses and adds, wryly, ”It didn’t quite work out because I have a younger brother.

”Our Uncle, Father’s younger brother, took over as the acting Sect Leader until I became of age. He’s never been interested in getting a mate himself and he’s grown to detest everything that has anything to do with heat cycles, for obvious reasons. I know he loves both Wangji and me deeply but he still remembers vividly the turmoil our parents’ mating caused.” Xichen falls silent and frowns, wondering how to explain Wei Wuxian.

”Wangji used to be a quiet, studious alpha. He’s been a paradigm of our sect and Uncle has always been fiercely proud of him. So, when Wangji met an omega who was exceptionally compatible with him, he was naturally triggered. Uncle’s reaction is perhaps best described as explosive.” He sighs. ”I won’t go into details but what followed is something both my Uncle and I regret every day, not that he would admit it out loud. He caused irreparable damage and alienated Wangji because he was too caught up with his memories and I—” Xichen looks away. ”I failed to defend the one who was wronged.”

”Wei Ying,” Meng Yao says slowly.

Xichen nods. ”Yes,” he whispers, thinking about his brother recovering in Meng Yao’s study, hollow-eyed and the thick scent of grief permanently a part of him even if he no longer cries out for Wei Wuxian in his sleep. ”I don’t know how, but if what little Wangji has said is true, Wei Wuxian was somehow in that Xuanwu cave and he saved Wangji’s life—only to give up his own.”

”How tragic,” Meng Yao murmurs.

”Yes. And I know Wangji never had the chance to tell Wei Wuxian how much he meant to him.” He takes Meng Yao’s hand again. ”That is not a risk I’m willing to take, A-Yao. You are exceptional. You are cunning and clever and ambitious and you’re both willing and able to make tough decisions when needed. And when you smile, truly smile, you are so beautiful I forget how to breathe.”

Meng Yao’s eyes go wide.

”I’ve grown very fond of you during my stay with you. I enjoy your company and I already know you are comfortable with me. It would be an honor to have you as my mate.” He kisses Meng Yao’s knuckles again. ”Uncle might complain but he will not go against me because he knows he can’t afford to lose me too. And for the Lan Elders who are still alive…” He leans slightly forward and whispers, ”Fuck the Lan Elders. I’m Sect Leader Lan. If I want to mate the omega of my choosing, I will mate him, Elders be damned.”

Meng Yao blinks a couple of times and then he laughs. It’s a delighted sound of unbridled joy and Xichen feels unabashedly smug. He made his omega laugh—he made his omega smell like happiness. 

”Oh, Sect Leader Lan, I didn’t even know you could swear,” Meng Yao says with a fond smile.

He raises a brow. ”I am an alpha of many talents,” he says. ”Also…I would very much like it if you called me Lan Huan. But only if you want to,” he hurries to add, ”you don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Meng Yao ducks his head and his scent turns softly sweet and hesitant. ”I’d like that,” he whispers. He raises his head a bit and looks up at Xichen from under his lashes and—

”I really want to kiss you,” Xichen says, his voice suddenly hoarse. ”May I?” 

As soon as Meng Yao nods, Xichen nearly falls forward in his haste to gather his omega in his arms and kiss him senseless. They have kissed before but this is different, this is heat and promise and yours and mine. When they part, they’re both panting, and the very distinctive scent of mutual arousal curls around them.

”Lan Huan,” Meng Yao says and Xichen stops listening, comes back to himself only when Meng Yao gently pokes his nose. ”Seriously?” Meng Yao asks, incredulous. ”I say your name and your eyes lose all focus?”

Xichen shrugs, a bit sheepish. ”Perhaps if you say my name more often I’ll get used to it?” Meng Yao’s dry look tells him in no uncertain terms just how obvious he is and Xichen finds himself enjoying it immensely.

Meng Yao rolls his eyes and then grows serious. ”I…” He stops and frowns, carefully thinking about something. ”I think we need to start sleeping naked. Or if not naked, at least without shirts. I don’t want to panic when my heat starts.”

”Does that mean you say yes?” Xichen asks, wanting to make it absolutely sure.

Meng Yao smiles, showing the dimples of his real smile. ”Yes. It would be my absolute joy and honor to become your mate, Lan Xichen.”

Xichen closes his eyes, suddenly overcome. ”Thank you,” he whispers and opens his eyes when he feels Meng Yao’s hand cup his cheek.

”Silly alpha,” Meng Yao murmurs and leans in to rest their foreheads together. ”You don’t have to thank me.”

You’re wrong, Xichen thinks. Of course I have to. You are magnificent and you just agreed to be my mate, to share my life and everything that comes with it. You’ve agreed to make my days brighter and my nights warmer and my years happier. You could be anything you wanted and you chose to be my mate.

For some while, they just sit there in silence, enjoying the easy closeness they’ve come to cherish. But night has fallen and Xichen knows they have to go to bed soon which means—

”A-Yao, may I take off your robe?” He asks softly.

Meng Yao nods and stays completely still as Xichen gently peels the silk off his shoulders and slowly untangles his arms from the sleeves. He folds the robe and sets it aside before he reaches out a hand and then stops, tilting his head a bit in question. Meng Yao’s throat works as he swallows and then nods again, slower this time. 

Meng Yao flinches slightly as Xichen’s fingers touch his shoulder. He doesn’t ask if he’s sure because he’s learned that when his omega makes his mind about something, it annoys him to no end if he’s questioned. So, instead of using his words, Xichen lets his touch talk: he trails his fingers slowly along the curve of Meng Yao’s shoulder, down his arm. He lifts Meng Yao’s hand and turns it palm up, kisses the palm and the wrist, and then presses the palm against his cheek.

Meng Yao’s eyes are wide and luminous and his lips parted slightly, almost like he doesn’t quite believe what Xichen is doing. It doesn’t bother him—Xichen is willing to do this and so much more to make Meng Yao believe just how much he is loved.

Something about his thoughts must bleed through as Meng Yao blinks rapidly several times and then ducks his head, a delightful blush on his cheeks. 

Xichen smiles, knowing Meng Yao can feel it against his palm, leans slowly forward, and presses a kiss on Meng Yao’s shoulder. Meng Yao lets out a small breathy sound and then his palm twitches under Xichen’s, slides from Xichen’s cheek to his neck, and tugs slightly. Delighted, Xichen lets himself be guided and ends up with his nose in the crook of Meng Yao’s neck, right next to his bonding gland.

Xichen absolutely does not fantasize about licking it. He doesn’t.

Instead, he licks at Meng Yao’s neck, making him squeal, and Xichen huffs a laugh. 

”That tickles,” Meng Yao mumbles against his shoulder. His tone is annoyed but he smells slightly less high-strung than a moment earlier which makes it alright in Xichen’s mind.

They stay still like that for a short while longer: Meng Yao’s head on Xichen’s shoulder and Xichen resting his temple against Meng Yao’s, their fingers intertwined. Xichen’s other hand is snugly around Meng Yao’s waist and Meng Yao’s fingers play with the hairs on Xichen’s neck.

After some time, Meng Yao trails his fingers from Xichen’s neck to his face, traces a path over his cheekbone to his nose, to his lips, and then down the curve of his jaw. He slows at Xichen’s throat and after a split moment of hesitation, he places his palm against Xichen’s chest. 

Xichen lets out a small hum, turns his head to kiss Meng Yao’s temple, and nuzzles his nose along his jaw. He’s content like that but he’s also curious what Meng Yao will do next. Or if he will do anything.

He gets his answer when Meng Yao slips his palm inside Xichen’s sleeping robe and presses his palm over Xichen’s heart.

It beats steady and strong.

Happy. 

Wangji’s leg wound has healed fast but he will carry the scars for the rest of his life. His eyes, though, haven’t lost the hollow emptiness that has been there since Xichen brought him home. Wangji wears his heartbreak like a robe, right next to his skin, and covers it with grief and rage. There’s no softness left in him and now that Xichen has Meng Yao, he understands.

”I’m leaving,” Wangji says one morning. He’s holding a cup of tea but hasn’t drunk from it. 

”You don’t have to,” Xichen says softly. ”We are happy that you are here.”

Wangji turns his head, doesn’t meet his eyes. ”His heat approaches,” he says quietly.

Xichen swallows. ”Oh,” he says. In some other situation, he might feel embarrassed that his own brother smells his mate’s upcoming heat before him but Xichen thinks it’s probably because Wangji is in mourning and the pre-heat scent of an unclaimed omega is painful.

His brother blinks slowly a couple of times and runs his thumb along the rim of his cup. Finally, he says, ”I’m glad. For you both. But…” He falls silent again but his scent says all Xichen needs to know: I can’t be here. I can’t witness this.

Xichen leans forward and touches his arm briefly, feels the corded muscles tense up. ”Thank you,” he says softly. ”And I know it’s way too little far too late but I would’ve been proud to have Wei Wuxian as a part of our family.”

Wangji nods stiffly and finally drinks his tea. Xichen wishes he would eat something but Wangji has been practicing inedia since— 

Well. Since. 

”Where will you go?” Xichen asks after a moment.

Slowly, Wangji sets his cup on the table and then looks up at Xichen. The cold fury in his eyes makes shivers run down Xichen’s spine.

”I will retake Gusu,” Wangji says. ”So that you can bring your mate home.” It’s a statement so absolute that Xichen has no doubt in his mind that Wangji will accomplish what he promises.

He doesn’t say thank you. He doesn’t ask Wangji to give his best to Uncle. He doesn’t ask him to be careful.

But as he watches Wangji take off, he prays that his fury will keep him alive. That no matter what happens, he will meet his brother again.

He prays that when he returns home, the cold shell wearing white still holds something he can call his brother.

Following the days of Wangji’s departure, Meng Yao’s scent gradually deepens. His base scent is subtle and sweet, a bit like honey cakes on a warm day, but the oncoming heat turns it earthier. Xichen wonders how it managed to creep up on them the last time but perhaps there had been too much going on. Grief and shock dull the senses, after all.

They’ve been learning to sleep skin to skin for some time now, and while Xichen has woken up hard more often than not, he’s never done anything about it. It has been a learning journey for both of them: for Meng Yao to trust he’s always safe in Xichen’s arms, and Xichen to not back off immediately upon waking, first to avoid triggering Meng Yao’s panic and then trusting that his mate can handle himself. It’s not perfect but they’re getting there, bit by bit.

There are things they leave to develop naturally but some things are non-negotiable: Xichen will not pin Meng Yao down or mount him from behind. In return, Xichen has given Meng Yao permission to do anything he wants, at which he’d made a face and said, ”Lan Huan, you can’t just declare something like that!” Xichen had said, ”And why not? If it makes you feel safe, it’s more than fine by me.”

Meng Yao has been methodically preparing for his heat, thinking about everything from spare blankets to easily digestible, nutritious food and drink, and it makes Xichen’s heart ache. Yes, he’s self-aware to admit that in Meng Yao’s own house, his input is both unneeded and inadequate and it probably is for the best if he just asks if there’s something heavy he can help carry. But Meng Yao’s routine also tells a clear story of how many times he’s had to go through it alone. 

But no more. After this heat, Xichen swears, he will take care of his mate. He will make sure their home is ready and filled with everything his omega could ever dream of. 

It starts in the middle of the day. Meng Yao has been irritable and restless, spending his nervous energy on arranging and rearranging his pillows before finally taking a nap with his head on Xichen’s lap. Xichen cards his fingers through Meng Yao’s hair and revels in the ripening scent of his mate, watching him with a small smile on his lips. 

”What are you smiling at?” Meng Yao grumbles, his eyes half-closed.

”You,” Xichen says easily. ”Me. Us, here, together. How do you feel, A-Yao?”

Meng Yao scrunches his nose. ”Itchy, hot, and irritable,” he says. ”I guess we’re in it, then.” He bites his lip as he pushes himself to sit up next to Xichen and glances up at him.

”What do you want to do?” Xichen asks. When Meng Yao just frowns, Xichen cocks his head. ”Come here, A-Yao,” he says and holds out his hand. 

There’s still a barely noticeable trace of nervousness in his scent and Xichen wants it gone. He helps Meng Yao to sit on his lap, wraps his arms loosely around him, and kisses him on the nose, and laughs lightly as Meng Yao goes slightly cross-eyed. The following snort and eye roll relax them both and when Meng Yao leans in for a proper kiss, he no longer smells nervous.

It’s very soft and careful. They kiss like that for a long time, with Xichen leaning on the wall and Meng Yao on his lap. He lets his hands rest on Meng Yao’s hips and doesn’t try to help or hinder him as he starts to move. It’s subconscious, fully brought on by his heat, the slow gyrating movement that has no ulterior motive. When Meng Yao’s lips trail down Xichen’s neck, he tilts his head to give his omega more room and hums contentedly.

At some point, Meng Yao yanks at Xichen’s robe and lets out a small, frustrated noise. Xichen leans slightly forward (which Meng Yao clearly likes) and lifts his hands off of Meng Yao (which he doesn’t like) to disrobe. His omega’s scent spikes slightly at the easy access on so much skin and Xichen leans back again with a fond smile. He’s more than happy to sit there and let his omega explore his body now that his heat is still in the early stages. He will have his chance to explore Meng Yao later.

The thought makes his cock jump and strain against Meng Yao and he freezes for a moment. Then he tilts his head, looks at Xichen, and with a narrowed look presses down and gyrates slowly. Xichen bites back a groan and surges up to claim his mouth.

”Devious,” he murmurs against Meng Yao’s lips. ”I like it.”

Meng Yao hums and presses down again, starts to slowly grind himself against Xichen. It’s delicious and while Xichen knows he won’t come from this, he thoroughly enjoys every moment. Meng Yao’s eyes drift closed and a delightful blush spreads from his cheeks down to his neck and disappears under his robe. Xichen nuzzles his jaw as he unties his robe and gently pushes it down his shoulders, and follows the blush with his lips. Meng Yao lets his head fall back and Xichen has to stop for a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him.

Meng Yao is always beautiful but like this, he’s breathtaking. His braided hair falls down his back like a waterfall and his skin ripples as he moves on Xichen’s lap. Xichen trails his hands gently up and down Meng Yao’s sides, smiling lightly at the shiver his touch elicits. Meng Yao’s thin pants hide nothing and Xichen can feel how they’re slowly soaking through with slick.

Meng Yao lets out a soft ”Hnngghh” and shudders, and the sudden warmth on Xichen’s lap tells exactly what happened. He wraps his arms around Meng Yao and gently guides him to slump against his chest to ride out the first orgasm.

”Now I’m sticky,” Meng Yao mumbles a short while later into the crook of Xichen’s neck.

Xichen huffs a soft laugh. ”Would you want to get rid of it?” He asks.

”What? The sticky?” Meng Yao pushes himself to sit up and frowns. ”I guess,” he says and shrugs, clearly meaning to stand up.

”Ah, no. Not what I meant,” Xichen says. He takes a hold of Meng Yao and scoots down on the bed so that he has space to lie down. ”Up,” he says and gently maneuvers his soiled pants off.

”And?” Meng Yao says, sitting on Xichen’s stomach, naked, and in heat. 

It’s rather lovely.

”And now, come here,” Xichen says and nudges his omega to move forward. 

”Where?” Meng Yao asks and his eyes widen. ”On your face?”

”Yes.”

”But—” Meng Yao blushes and his eyes dart around before they return to Xichen. ”Are you sure?”

Xichen rubs his palms along Meng Yao’s thighs. ”Yes. I once helped an omega through a heat like this and, well.” He shrugs as well as he can while lying on his back. ”I enjoyed it at least as much as she did.” He sobers and catches Meng Yao’s hand in his, kisses his knuckles. ”A-Yao, if you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to. But please trust me when I invite you to try something. If you fear that it would be uncomfortable for me or worry that I couldn’t breathe…” A whiff of embarrassment in Meng Yao’s scent tells him that’s exactly what Meng Yao’s hesitance was about. Xichen smiles. ”There’s no need. I’m an alpha, I’m more than capable of lifting you if the need arises.” He kisses Meng Yao’s knuckles once more and quirks a brow. ”Okay?”

Meng Yao takes a deep breath and then slowly lets it out. ”Okay,” he says and nods. ”So, where you want me?”

”Anywhere, but let’s start with here,” Xichen says and moves Meng Yao where he wants him.

Meng Yao’s surprised huff of laughter turns into a choked-off moan as Xichen swallows his cock down and licks it clean and then turns his efforts to his hole. 

Xichen hadn’t exaggerated when he said he enjoys this. Helping the omega some years ago had been an exercise in pleasure but it was nothing compared to this. Meng Yao’s weight on him is grounding, his scent makes his head spin and the way he shudders and comes apart against Xichen’s mouth is intoxicating. He makes Meng Yao come twice on his tongue and then moves him down slightly so that Meng Yao can fuck his mouth while Xichen has three fingers inside of him, relentlessly pressing down on that spot that makes him whimper and writhe until he’s limp with pleasure.

When Meng Yao falls asleep, Xichen moves him carefully to the side and gets up. He brought water in earlier and he warms it up with a talisman, wipes his face and chest, and then gently cleans up his mate. He removes the soiled clothes from the bed and brings a plate of finger food and prepares tea, all the while keeping an ear on Meng Yao. He’s descending fully into his heat and Xichen can feel it tugging at him, too. The mating bite will kickstart Xichen’s rut and then they’ll be in it for…well, for at long as it takes. This isn’t Meng Yao’s first heat since he stopped taking his suppressants, and Xichen hopes that means they won’t face any surprises like a prolonged cycle.

But if that happens, they’ll deal with it, together.

Xichen climbs into the bed and gathers his omega in his arms, guarding his sleep.

The next time Meng Yao wakes up, his eyes are hazy with heat as he turns around in Xichen’s arms and gives him a long, calculating look. 

Xichen raises his brows. ”How do you feel, A-Yao?” He asks, curious about what Meng Yao will do next.

Meng Yao purses his lips. ”Horny,” he says. 

He pushes Xichen to his back and climbs on his lap. He’s wet and getting wetter and the slick drag against Xichen’s cock feels amazing. He lets his pleasure out in a pleased growl and watches, smug, as Meng Yao’s eyes go wide and he wets his lips before cocking his head and grinding his ass slowly against Xichen’s groin. It turns into a languid, gyrating dance that’s more like mutual teasing than actually getting off, but it’s more than fine because he gets to see the flickering emotions on his omega’s face.

After some while, though, Meng Yao scrunches his nose in frustration. ”It’s…not enough,” he says and shivers. ”I need more.”

Xichen rests his hands on his hips and rubs his thumbs on his skin in slow circles. ”Do you want me to help you?” He asks. When Meng Yao bites his lip and nods, Xichen coaxes him to stand on his knees and lean forward slightly. Carefully, he guides the head of his cock to Meng Yao’s hole. Meng Yao flinches but Xichen soothes him with a low hum and just gently rubs his cockhead against the slick entrance without even trying to push in. 

A short moment later, Meng Yao whines softly and starts pushing back against Xichen’s cock. He keeps himself still, letting Meng Yao move at the pace he chooses. When the head finally slips in, Meng Yao gasps and tenses up, and the pressure makes Xichen draw a sharp breath through his teeth.

”You set the pace, A-Yao,” he says, slightly hoarse. ”Take as long as you need.”

Being prideful is against the Lan sect rules but Xichen knows it isn’t prideful to acknowledge he is rather big. Meng Yao is small and delicate and even though his omega anatomy means he can take Xichen, it is going to be uncomfortable—especially considering his past. Xichen will do absolutely nothing that will cause him more discomfort unless Meng Yao explicitly asks for it. For now, though, he’s more than happy to stay still and wait for him.

Xichen loses the sense of time as his whole being focuses on the torturously slow drag on his cock as Meng Yao lowers himself. By the time he’s finally fully seated, Meng Yao’s shaking. There’s a frown on his face and sweat beading on his brow and all Xichen can do is to keep rubbing his hands along Meng Yao’s thighs and wait.

”I don’t think I can move,” Meng Yao gasps after some time. ”You’re so big.”

Xichen tries (and probably fails) not to preen but he pushes the feeling ruthlessly down. ”What do you want? Is it too much?”

Meng Yao shakes his head and bites his lip. He’s trembling and looks like he’s barely holding on. ”I don’t—Can you—up, please?” 

Xichen doesn’t say anything, just sits slowly up while trying to keep Meng Yao still to not jostle him too much as he carefully scoots back to lean against the wall. As soon as he’s settled, Meng Yao slumps against his chest and rests his forehead on Xichen’s shoulder. His breath puffs against Xichen’s skin and his pulse races under Xichen’s lips as he kisses the side of his neck, right on top of his mating gland.

”Better?” He murmurs and smiles as Meng Yao hums his assent against his skin. 

They stay like that for some time. As they wait for Meng Yao to adjust, Xichen softens inside him which he figures isn’t perhaps a bad thing. He’ll get hard as soon as Meng Yao starts moving again but if this, now, helps Meng Yao, well…

Gradually, Meng Yao’s tremors melt away and his hips start to move in short, aborted twitches. Xichen makes sure to keep his hold light but steady to help him along. He ducks his head slightly to catch Meng Yao’s lips in a kiss that turns heated in seconds and Xichen goes from mostly soft to achingly hard in mere moments. As Meng Yao’s impatience grows, his twitching turns to grinding and then moving up and down as the heat takes over. Xichen groans as his knot catches on Meng Yao’s rim for the first time and before it grows any bigger, he presses his mate down. Meng Yao whines and writhes and tries to buck Xichen’s hold off but Xichen doesn’t let him. This is what they agreed on earlier: to avoid unnecessary pain or ripping, especially in their first time, Xichen will impale Meng Yao on his cock as soon as his knot starts to swell and keep him there until they tie.

To distract his mate, Xichen nudges Meng Yao’s hair out of the way and seals his lips on the mating glad. It’s swollen to almost obscene, and the sound Meng Yao makes when Xichen licks it makes his cock throb. Meng Yao is trembling again and his scent spikes, so Xichen sucks at the gland, hard.

Meng Yao lets out a hoarse yell and comes all over their stomachs as he clamps around Xichen’s cock. The pressure and the heady scent of his mate’s release push Xichen straight to his own orgasm with such force that he nearly forgets to bite on Meng Yao’s bonding gland.

He comes with his arms tightly around his omega, his face buried in his mate’s neck, shaking with the emotions that threaten to overwhelm him.

My beautiful omega, he thinks, sated and sluggish, as his knot swells and locks them together. Thank you for having me.

Meng Yao dozes through the first knotting, his nose pressed against Xichen’s throat. Xichen is unable to keep his hands still, his need to touch and pet his omega too great to ignore. He smoothes his palms down the warm skin, cards his fingers through the silky hair, and presses butterfly kisses on whichever part of Meng Yao’s face he can reach. 

His rut is a simmering heat in his gut, fully manageable, as always. He thinks back on the violate, desperate need Wangji had expressed back when Wei Wuxian had pushed him into a rut and wonders how lucky he is—he and Meng Yao both—that he isn’t quite as passionate as Wangji. It doesn’t mean Xichen doesn’t feel deeply because dear gods, he does, but his alphahood has always been more of the strong, silent, steady kind than Wangji’s raw power. 

How unbearably sad that Wangji didn’t get to have this union with his mate. How heartbreaking he had to go through it all, locking the immense emotion inside himself without a way to let it out.

His musings are interrupted when Meng Yao stirs, rubs his face against Xichen’s shoulder, and then stills. ”You smell sad,” he says quietly. ”Why?”

”Ah, I’m sorry,” Xichen says, sheepish. ”I just thought about Wangji and…” he sighs. ”It’s heartbreaking that he never had the chance to have this.”

Meng Yao leans back with an unimpressed look but the movement makes them both gasp as it moves Xichen’s cock, still locked inside Meng Yao. ”You—ahh—are thinking about your brother while I’m on your lap? Really, A-Huan?”

The name makes Xichen’s breath hitch and he just has to kiss Meng Yao until the unimpressed look melts into pleasure. ”I just wish him the same happiness I have,” he murmurs against Meng Yao’s lips. 

”How admirable of you,” Meng Yao whispers and bites his lower lip. 

It makes the heat in Xichen’s gut flare and with a growl, he surges up and flips Meng Yao on his back—and realizes his mistake even before Meng Yao hits the mattress. Instead of stopping, he keeps with the momentum and rolls them so that Meng Yao is on top of him again. He blinks a couple of times, slightly startled, but then he shakes his head and gives Xichen a fondly exasperated look.

”I don’t think there’s a need for unnecessarily complicated acrobatics in our bed,” he says as he cups Xichen’s cheek. ”But thank you.” 

”I—I promised you—” Xichen stammers, internally berating himself for his momentary loss of control.

”Stop that,” Meng Yao says. ”I know what you promised. And I know you keep your promises.” When Xichen opens his mouth, he presses his fingers on his lips, silencing him.

Xichen sighs and kisses the fingers.

They rest a moment and Meng Yao draws idle shapes on Xichen’s side. The sensation makes a shiver run down his skin and Meng Yao pauses, only to return a moment later—but this time with nails. The sharp drag raises goosebumps at its wake and Xichen draws in a sharp breath as his cock twitches.

Meng Yao hums and sits up slightly, biting his lip as the movement pushes Xichen’s rapidly hardening cock deeper. He tilts his head and rakes his nails over Xichen’s chest, narrows his eyes at the way Xichen shivers, and then he does it again. And again, visibly pleased with the punched-out groans Xichen doesn’t even try holding in.

When Meng Yao giggles, Xichen retaliates by gripping his hips and fucking up unto his slick heat, feeling unreasonably smug when Meng Yao’s eyes go wide and he lets out a breathy moan.

”You!” Meng Yao gasps.

”Me,” Xichen agrees and grins.

It soon devolves into gasping chuckles and mutual teasing that leaves bright red scratches on Xichen’s chest, a trail of fingerprints on Meng Yao’s hips, and Xichen’s knot firmly inside his omega again.

Meng Yao’s heat finally draws to an end six days later. Their bed is a mess and even though Xichen has kissed his mate from head to toe more times than he can count, he can’t help a slight pang of disappointment when Meng Yao flinches away from his mouth. 

”I can’t believe you,” Meng Yao mutters from under his arm. ”Six days and you still want me to sit on your face?”

Xichen kisses his thigh. ”Or you could just lie on your back and let me enjoy myself,” he says calmly. Meng Yao hisses like a cat which, if one asks Xichen, is perhaps a slightly exaggerated reaction. ”Fine,” he says and sighs mournfully. ”I’ll draw us a bath.” 

He presses one, final kiss on Meng Yao’s ankle before he stands up and leaves the bedroom without bothering to put on a robe. The bathtub is ready to be heated, as Xichen thought ahead and filled it when the heat started and kept the water fresh with a talisman. He activates a heating talisman and gets food and drink ready while the bath warms up.

When everything is ready, he makes his way back to the bedroom. Meng Yao has turned from his back to his side and the way his body carries the scent and marks of what they’ve done takes Xichen’s breath away. But even more beautiful is the way Meng Yao turns his head and smiles at Xichen, small and trusting. He tries to curb his overflowing emotions but something must leak through as Meng Yao’s smile widens and his scent turns warm and pleased.

Xichen holds out his hand to help Meng Yao up and when his omega stands in front of him and looks at him with a smile, he can’t not kiss him. He pours out all his adoration and gratitude for this wonderful man who has agreed to be his mate, and when he draws back from the kiss, he has to rest his forehead against Meng Yao’s because he suddenly feels overwhelmed.

”A-Huan?” Meng Yao says softly and presses his hand on Xichen’s cheek.

He turns his head and kisses the palm and then leans his cheek against it, holding his own hand on top of Meng Yao’s. ”I wish—” he stops and blinks several times as he thinks how to say what he means. ”I promise you, A-Yao, that you will always know how much you mean to me. And if, for some reason, there comes a time when you are uncertain, it means I have failed as your alpha.”

Meng Yao ducks his head for a moment, then lifts it and looks up at Xichen with a mix of tenderness and exasperation. ”Oh, you wonderful, silly man,” he whispers and kisses Xichen’s chest. ”I know.” Then he straightens his shoulders and commands, ”Now, take me to bath.”

His delighted laughter when Xichen picks him up in his arms is the most beautiful music Xichen has ever heard.

The next morning, there’s a warded message waiting for them. It’s from Wangji, letting them know the Cloud Recesses is retaken and ready to welcome its Sect Leader and his mate home. 

They start packing right away—or Meng Yao starts packing and Xichen starts drawing protective talismans. Obviously, they can’t take everything with them and leaving the house unprotected is out of the question. This is Meng Yao’s home and Xichen wants him to have a secure, private location he can return to if he ever feels like it or if the Cloud Recesses become too much for him. Yes, their mating is based on mutual feelings, respect, and trust, but the mere idea of making Meng Yao feel he’s trapped is unbearable. So, while Meng Yao packs the cart, Xichen walks the perimeter and inserts spells and activates talismans that shield the house and make people want to walk away. They’re not exactly repelling talismans, they merely gently suggest that the area is completely empty and there’s nothing to see there, and wouldn’t a stroll in the opposite direction be a wonderful idea?

When he’s done, he makes his way to Meg Yao who stands in the garden and looks around. He seems calm but his scent is tinged with sadness and something more, wistfulness perhaps? Xichen stops next to him, puts his arm around his waist and, when Meng Yao leans against him, draws him into a proper hug and presses a kiss on his temple. 

”I can preserve this if you want,” he offers.

For a moment, Meng Yao says nothing. Then he sighs and his scent mellows out. ”No. There’s no need. The bees will survive and I already took care of the garden before your brother left.” He falls silent for a moment longer, clearly saying his goodbyes, and then he squeezes Xichen’s hand, lets out a breath, and says, ”Let’s go.”

They packed Xichen’s sect robes and headpiece carefully in the cart with Shuoyue and the qiankun pouches he brought with him and cover them with protective talismans. They put vegetables, fruits, honey, and the nutty, chewy bread Meng Yao loves to bake on top of the treasures, and switch their robes to simple commoners’ clothes. With their hair braided in the modified Nie style and their appearance modest and humble, they look like a young, freshly mated couple making their way to a marketplace to sell their goods. 

The roads are quiet. They meet only a handful of people which isn’t a surprise, considering they’re at war. No one bothers them and, apart from greetings and short exchanges about the weather, they talk to no one. Xichen doesn’t quite remember how many days it took him to make it from the Cloud Recesses to Meng Yao when he fled but this time, the journey takes them a little over a week. 

Unsurprisingly, no one recognizes them in Caiyi town. Xichen is more than fine with it; if he was traveling alone, he probably would’ve changed into his Lan robes to announce his return but he isn’t alone. Meng Yao is his mate and Xichen wants to give him the chance to decide for himself how he’ll be introduced in Gusu. Despite keeping to themselves most of the time, the Lan cultivators have always been an active part of the Caiyi daily life and the mating of a sect leader is a major event the commoners might want to celebrate. 

Also, Xichen can admit he’s eager to take his mate home, and being caught up in Caiyi would prolong that. (However, Xichen is making an internal list of everything that Meng Yao eyes curiously, just to keep up with all the places his mate will want to visit when they come back.)

When they finally reach the Cloud Recesses’ gates, two young disciples stop them. Their faces are only vaguely familiar to Xichen which, again, is no surprise. They lost so many during the attack and he’s been gone for months.

”I’m sorry but the Cloud Recesses doesn’t allow visitors at this time,” the young alpha says with a polite bow.

Xichen smiles. ”I know that, but how about residents?”

The other disciple, a slightly older beta bows. ”Do you have a token to pass? I’m afraid we can’t let you in without it.”

”Really?” Meng Yao says flatly. He’s about to say more but Xichen touches his hand, asking him to wait.

Neither guard shows any sign of irritation. ”Those are the rules,” the alpha says. She’s calm and collected and Xichen feels a flash of pride.

”I have a token,” Xichen says and reaches into the small qiankun pouch he hid in his robes before they left Meng Yao’s house. ”Here.” 

The alpha guard takes the token and her eyes blow wide. ”Sect Leader!” She gasps and bows low. ”This one apologizes for not recognizing—”

Xichen raises a hand to silence them. ”There’s no need to apologize, there was a reason we are in disguise. I’m glad to see you keep diligently to your duties.” He tucks the token back into the pouch and takes Meng Yao’s hand. ”Is my Uncle here? And my brother?”

The alpha guard steps aside while the beta guard hurries to take the horse’s bridle and guide it in.

”Grand Master Lan is in, Sect Leader. Hanguang-jun is…” The beta guard’s voice trails away.

”Hanguang-jun has been busy with securing the Gusu borders,” the alpha guard says.

”Ah,” Xichen says and stifles a sigh.

”Sect Leader, we will call disciples to help with—” the alpha guard says and her eyes flit from the cart to Meng Yao and then back to Xichen. ”Everything,” she finishes hesitantly.

”That won’t be necessary,” Xichen says. He knows that the moment his token passed through the wards surrounding the Cloud Recesses, it alerted the Elders and Uncle, which means they’ll have company sooner rather than later.

Only a short moment later, Xichen sees Uncle hurry down the path as fast as the rules would allow, half a dozen disciples trailing behind him. It seems like Uncle has recovered from his injury but he looks older, drained and fragile. His face lights up with relief before he composes himself, taking in Xichen and Meng Yao’s appearance.

”Sect Leader Lan. It is a relief to see you again,” Uncle says and bows, then turns to Meng Yao, and adds, ”Lan-furen.” His voice is tighter and there’s a faintly displeased look in his eye Xichen is almost sure only he and Wangji can read. 

”Uncle,” Xichen says. He lets go of Meng Yao’s hand and they bow in unison. 

”Grand Master Lan,” Meng Yao says softly. ”It’s an honor to finally meet you.”

Uncle nods stiffly and then turns to address the disciples behind him. ”Take care of the horse and cart and—what even is in there?”

”Vegetables, bread, and honey, preserved with standard talismans,” Meng Yao says. ”In the corner under the heavy blankets are the books Zewu-jun managed to save from the attack, as well as his robes and jewelry. Oh,” he says and blinks before turning to Xichen. ”A-Huan, you should probably disable the talismans so that no one gets hurt.”

”Of course, A-Yao,” Xichen says calmly and dismantles the talismans with a flick of his hand.

A pinched look in Uncle’s eyes tells him that Meng Yao’s choice of addressing him didn’t go unnoticed but all he does is clear his throat. ”The Hanshi has been prepared for Sect Leader Lan and his mate.” He pauses for a moment and then adds, more quiet, ”Wangji oversaw it.”

Xichen closes his eyes for a moment. Oh, Wangji, he thinks, allowing himself a moment of grief. How I wish you had had the chance to take your own mate home. He feels Meng Yao reach out for his hand and he squeezes it, grateful for his support. Then he opens his eyes, smiles at his mate, and says, ”Shall we?”

Meng Yao smiles and nods.

Uncle steps aside to let them pass and then hesitates a moment. ”It’s still early,” he says slowly. ”May I come to visit later today? We should probably…talk.”

Xichen glances at Meng Yao but his mate has his head demurely bowed. Xichen would rather have a bit more time to rest but perhaps this is best handled as soon as possible.

”Yes, Uncle,” he says. ”Give us some time to freshen up and eat.”

”I will inform the kitchen,” Uncle says.

”Thank you,” Xichen says.

He feels Uncle’s eyes on his back until the path curves and they walk out of sight.

”He doesn’t like me,” Meng Yao says quietly. He’s sitting on the bed, fresh from the bath and clad in Lan robes, and he’s beautiful. 

The Hanshi is clean and quiet and exactly as Xichen remembers it. The only differences are the additional bedding and a selection of smaller Lan robes waiting on the bed. How Wangji had known Meng Yao’s robe size is a mystery but Xichen is grateful nevertheless.

There’s also a familiar silver hairpin adorned with blue stones waiting on the table next to the bed. It’s been over a decade since Xichen has last seen it.

”Uncle is…complicated,” Xichen allows and tears his eyes from the pin. ”It’s clear Wangji had told him to expect us but did he tell him anything more? Doubtful.”

Meng Yao hums. ”What do you need from me?”

”What do you mean?” Xichen asks.

”One way or the other, he’s going to bring up my background,” Meng Yao says calmly. ”I’m not ashamed of myself but I need to know how you want me to act.”

Xichen frowns. ”I want you to act like you.”

Meng Yao rolls his eyes. ”A-Huan, don’t be obtuse. You know what I mean.”

Xichen ducks his head and smiles. ”I’m sorry. You’re right.” He thinks for a moment as he sits behind his mate and starts combing his hair. ”You and Uncle being friends with each other is unlikely,” he starts slowly. ”But you don’t have to be friends to live here. You both need to be civil and act according to your station.

”In general, Uncle doesn’t like anyone who isn’t me or Wangji. Or that was the case when we acted the way Uncle wanted. We have both now proven to be our own persons and not some archetypes of perfect Lan cultivators.”

Meng Yao makes a soft, thoughtful noise.

Xichen tilts his head and decides to go all in. ”I trust you, A-Yao,” he says as he starts tying Meng Yao’s hair up. ”I don’t know all of you but I don’t think I need to. You are your own person with your own life, your own dreams and goals. But I do know what matters: you are cunning, intelligent, and ruthless when needed and you aren’t afraid to fight dirty for those you love. I don’t know how I managed to secure a place for myself in your heart but that’s a privilege I hope I’ll never forget.” He picks up the silver hairpin and secures it on Meng Yao’s hair. 

”How?” Meng Yao echoes as he twists around. ”Because you’re you, A-Huan. That’s why.” He cups Xichen’s cheek and presses a lingering kiss on his lips. Then he sighs and leans against Xichen’s chest. ”I don’t like having secrets but it’s hard letting them go when they’ve kept me alive for so long.”

”I don’t need to know your secrets to love you,” Xichen reminds him quietly.

Meng Yao let out an irritated sound. ”It’s not even about that. I want to tell you because—” he pauses and frowns. ”When you don’t know, it makes me feel unmoored. Like I’m a visitor in your life, not really here. I don’t like that. I want to belong. I want to be here, with you.” He looks up, searches Xichen’s eyes. ”I want to be your mate here, in your home. I want to work to make the Cloud Recesses safe again. But before I can truly do that, I need to put my past behind me. Will you let me?”

”Of course,” he says. ”When do we start?”

Meng Yao stares at him for a moment and then he lets out an exasperated sound that perhaps isn’t suitable for a sect leader’s mate.

Xichen smiles anyway. 

Uncle arrives exactly one hour later. His eyes linger on Mother’s hairpin in Meng Yao’s hair but he says nothing. Xichen leads him to the table where Meng Yao is preparing tea—Uncle’s favorite blend—exactly as Xichen instructed him. As Uncle takes his seat, his eyes track Meng Yao’s every move, looking for errors or a lapse in form. 

Xichen could tell him no fault will be found but he knows it’s of no use. Uncle will have to learn certain things the hard way.

”I would like to offer congratulations on your mating,” Uncle says formally when Meng Yao sits down to let the tea rest for a moment. ”I wasn’t aware of your plans so I didn’t have time to inform the Elders and draw up proper documentation.”

”I’m sure I can take care of the Elders by myself,” Xichen says.

”Of course,” Uncle says and sips his tea. There’s a moment of silence until Uncle relents and turns to address Meng Yao. ”Congratulations to you, too, Lan-furen,” he says stiffly. ”I hope you find the title acceptable.”

Meng Yao inclines his head. ”Of course, Grand Master Lan. I’m already wearing the late Lan-furen’s hairpin, I would be proud to carry her title as well.” His smile turns slightly worried. ”I hope Grand Master Lan is feeling well—I heard about the attack and learned about the injury, I wouldn’t want Grand Master Lan to feel too taxed on our behalf.”

”I am suitably recovered, thank you,” Uncle says. ”But I’m relieved to have Xichen home again.”

Meng Yao smiles and pours more tea, his posture perfect. Uncle’s eyes are sharp on him, searching his face.

”I must say you look vaguely familiar,” Uncle says. ”Which clan do you come from?”

Meng Yao sips his tea. ”When was the last time Grand Master Lan met with Sect Leader Jin?” 

”I beg your pardon?”

Meng Yao sets his cup on the table and sits back, his hands on his lap and his smile firmly in place. ”The reason Grand Master Lan might find my features familiar is that he has seen them on Sect Leader Jin—or any of his other offspring. We have the same nose, I’ve been told.”

”What?” Uncle barks.

”My name is Meng Yao,” Meng Yao says calmly. ”My mother was Meng Shi and my Sire is Jin Guangshan. And no, I have absolutely no intention of asking him to legalize me.”

”You mated a bastard?” Uncle hisses at Xichen. He grabs a hold on Meng Yao’s wrist and only his mate’s lightning-fast warning look makes Xichen press his lips together and swallow down a growl.

”At least you have a golden core, however weak,” Uncle huffs.

To Xichen, it doesn’t seem like his mate does anything but suddenly, Uncle lets go of his hand like he’d been stabbed.

Calmly, Meng Yao folds his hands on his lap again. ”I grew up in a brothel, Grand Master Lan,” Meng Yao says with a sweet smile, ignoring the way Uncle turns white with anger. ”I was too busy surviving to practice my cultivation.” He cocks his head. ”You are free to look down on me, Grand Master Lan, if it makes you feel better. I’ve lived my whole life with people who sneer at me, one more is nothing. But A-Huan cares about you and when the time comes, I would like the future sect heirs to have a grand-Uncle. However, that isn’t a choice I can make.”

Xichen chokes on his tea. ”A-Yao?” He asks, wide-eyed with wonder.

Meng Yao blushes and ducks his head. ”Ah, no. Not yet, I’m afraid. But soon, I hope?”

Something warm and soft settles in Xichen’s chest and he reaches out for Meng Yao’s hand. ”I’ll look forward to it,” he murmurs and kisses his knuckles. From the corner of his eye, he sees Uncle grit his jaw. 

”Do other sects already know?” Uncle asks after a moment.

Xichen quirks a brow at his mate. ”Actually, I think Huaisang set us up.”

Meng Yao snorts. ”I wouldn’t be surprised. He and Mingjue have been paying way too much attention to my life since the moment we first met.”

”I see,” Uncle says slowly.

”Was there anything else you wanted to talk about, Grand Master Lan?” Meng Yao asks, widening his eyes. ”Anything at all?” When Uncle shakes his head, Meng Yao ducks his head and drinks his tea.

After that, Xichen and Uncle skim over the main points of what happened in the Cloud Recesses after Xichen fled. Meng Yao is quiet and attentive, pours tea, and when Uncle coughs once, asks if he would like some of the honey drops Meng Yao used to make to the old aunties down the street. Uncle nods his reluctant assent and then blinks several times when he receives the full force of Meng Yao’s smile.

When Uncle leaves, Xichen walks to the porch with him.

”Have you seen Wangji?” Uncle asks.

”Not since he left the house,” Xichen says. They stand side by side and watch the way the setting sun paints the clouds pink. Xichen wonders when he’ll be able to watch pink clouds and not think they’re on fire.

”He…wasn’t himself.”

Xichen sighs. ”He thought his mate hated him, then said mate saved him and everyone else, and then died. What did you expect?”

”Excessive feelings—”

”Don’t quote rules to me,” Xichen snaps, suddenly furious. ”I understand where you come from, Uncle. I understand you had to watch your own brother succumb to something he never chose for himself. But what you have done—what you’re still trying to do—that is a direct violation of the rules.”

”Xichen—!”

”No. You harmed Wei Wuxian and you harmed Wangji. You took glee on the misfortune of others and pushed your own ideals on a situation that never needed them. You alienated Wangji and forced me to watch how my own family turned on each other.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. ”You know I’d rather talk things through. I don’t like conflict. But don’t test me on this, Uncle. You might not like the result.”

Uncle’s eyes are wide with shock and his beard quivers slightly but he doesn’t try to rebuke Xichen’s words. 

Good.

”Oh, one more thing, Uncle,” Xichen says. ”Never touch A-Yao without his explicit permission again.” 

He doesn’t wait for Uncle’s reply before retreating back inside.

Meng Yao settles into his new role like he was born into it. He makes sure to talk to everyone he meets and acquaintances himself with the different craftsmen the sect has. He reads through the indexes in the Lan Library and then spends two weeks politely rearranging them so that the indexing makes more sense and all the information is easily found. He offers insight on bookkeeping, asks the kitchen staff detailed questions on inventory, and dedicates so much time to make sure single worker knows how important their work is for a properly functioning sect that it makes Xichen exhausted. 

”You do know no one expects you to do all this?” Xichen murmurs late one night and noses at the soft skin behind his ear.

”Did you do this on purpose?” Meng Yao grumbles and wriggles a bit. ”Devious alpha, impaling this delicate omega on his knot—”

Xichen growls lightly and tugs Meng Yao against his chest, wrapping his arms around his middle. His hand splays against Meng Yao’s stomach even though they both know the pregnancy won’t catch outside his heat. ”The so-called delicate omega was the one who opened my robes and wormed his way into my arms naked and willing,” Xichen huffs and then groans against Meng Yao’s neck as his omega clenches around him.

He’s almost drifted off to sleep when Meng Yao says, softly, ”I need to know how things work. I need to know the process of, say, robe making so that I can understand how many different levels of communication are needed, how many people would be affected if one part breaks or goes missing. It…eases my mind. To know.”

Xichen twines their fingers together. ”It wasn’t a reprimand, A-Yao. I merely wanted to let you know that you don’t have to do this to be my mate.”

Meng Yao hums. ”I know,” he says.

He keeps doing it, though, and Xichen can’t say he’s surprised.

Sometimes Xichen wonders if it’s because of his past, some deep-seated insecurity he will never understand because of the difference in their backgrounds. Xichen grew up as the heir of a respected, stable sect and he never had to doubt his place in the world while Meng Yao learned to fight for his right to belong from the moment he was born. Xichen is used to be listened to, looked up to, Meng Yao expects kicks, jabs, and abuse.

Xichen wonders if he would’ve made it, had it been him in Meng Yao’s place.

And sometimes, Xichen wonders what Meng Yao would’ve grown up like if Jin Guangshan had taken him in and he’d learned the Jin lifestyle. (He never likes to dwell on that, though. For some reason, it always makes him feel like something cold brushed his neck.)

The invitation to the war council in Lanling Jin doesn’t come as a surprise but when Meng Yao asks to come along, Xichen is confused.

”There’s no need, A-Yao,” he says.

Meng Yao bites his lip. Xichen has noticed he does it when he wants something but he isn’t sure if it’s a conscious choice or something Meng Yao does without realizing it. ”I don’t feel comfortable being apart,” he finally says. ”It’s not that I don’t trust you because I do—”

Xichen stops him with a kiss. ”I understand,” he murmurs. ”I can’t deny feeling the same. Very well, I’ll make the arrangements.”

Uncle doesn’t like it, but Xichen flies out of the Cloud Recesses with Meng Yao cradled securely in his arms, Wangji and a handful of disciples following in a standard formation. The first meeting is for sect leaders and their seconds so Meng Yao stays resting in their room. Xichen isn’t quite sure why Nie Huaisang is present but he has long accepted that what Nie Huaisang wants, Nie Huaisang does, and both Mingjue and Huaisang ignore those who complain.

They’re in the middle of negotiations when the doors slam open and a horde of Wen guards pour in and behind them—

”No,” Wangji whispers next to him. 

Xichen grips his brother’s wrist so hard he’s sure there’ll be bruises. But it doesn’t matter because he needs to keep Wangji still, he needs to keep Wangji grounded because that’s Wei Wuxian walking in—

What follows is madness. That’s the only word Xichen has for it. Wei Wuxian acts as the second for Wen Ruohan, bringing news of the Chief Cultivator not only mastering demonic cultivation but also declaring himself the Emperor? And like that isn’t enough, Wei Wuxian is also a demonic cultivator now? 

Frankly, Xichen is having a hard time caring about all that because Wangji is shaking almost violently and his scent is going haywire as he slides close to Qi-deviation. In the cacophony of Wen Chao’s demands of appropriate accommodations and the general outrage, Xichen jumps up and drags Wangji out into the corridor, pushes him into the first alcove he sees, and hastily activates a privacy talisman.

”Breathe, Wangji,” he whispers urgently, grips his shoulders, and presses their foreheads together. ”Stay with me. Breathe.”

Wangji’s eyes are wide and wild and he gasps air like a drowning man. He’s shaking and his scent… Oh, Wangji, Xichen thinks, desperate. Please, stay with me, brother. Don’t lose yourself.

”He—he’s—” Wangji croaks.

”I know,” Xichen says, gripping his shoulders.

”He’s alive,” Wangji whispers. ”He’s alive.” And then he starts crying, presses his hands against his chest like he’s trying to keep his soul from leaking out. 

Xichen holds him through it, pours out all the love he feels for his brother, and wraps his scent around them both like he used to do when they were children. He knows it isn’t much but he hopes it offers Wangji a familiar, grounding space fall apart safely.

When Wangji’s shaking gradually subsides to tremors and he no longer sounds like his heart is being torn apart, Xichen lifts his head and kisses his brother on the forehead. 

”He’s alive,” Wangji whispers again.

”I know,” Xichen whispers back.

Xichen is troubled. 

Before Wangji composed himself and walked away, the look in his eyes was bright and fervent, almost feverish. Xichen has a sinking feeling Wangji is going to look for Wei Wuxian but he also knows this is something his brother needs to do. The burden of staying silent and holding back the immense devotion he feels for Wei Wuxian has been eating him alive and if he finally confesses, perhaps he can move on.

Somehow, Xichen has a feeling that won’t happen and it makes him unbearably sad.

It isn’t the reason he is troubled, though. Or not the only reason.

Because he remembers the strange look in Meng Yao’s eyes when he’d brought Wangji home from Lotus Pier. The same look had been in his eyes when he received a short note right after the invitation to the war council. 

And now this?

When he reaches their room, he closes to door behind him and activates a privacy talisman. Meng Yao glances up from the letter he’s writing (to whom? Xichen wonders fleetingly) but his smile withers as he takes in Xichen’s silence.

”A-Huan? Did something happen?” He asks, concerned.

”Did you know Wei Wuxian is alive?” Xichen asks quietly. When Meng Yao blinks several times, Xichen sighs. ”Or perhaps the correct question is, how long have you known?”

”I—” Meng Yao says and slowly stands up. ”I suspected,” he says carefully as he starts to inch his way to the side. ”But I wasn’t sure.”

Xichen frowns and tilts his head. ”What are you doing?” 

It comes out sharper than he means and Meng Yao freezes. Then, very slowly, he bares his throat.

Xichen’s knees nearly give out at sheer horror. ”Oh gods, no, no, no, A-Yao,” he whispers and takes a hurried step forward only to stop when Meng Yao flinches. He reins himself in and forces himself to calm down. It’s hard when his heart is hammering in his ears and he feels like throwing up.

”I’m sorry,” Meng Yao whispers, eyes wide and his throat still bared. ”Please, don’t be angry.”

Xichen closes his eyes, hating himself for making Meng Yao, his mate, feel like this. ”I’m not angry, A-Yao,” he says gently. ”I was never angry. I am confused.”

”Okay,” Meng Yao says in a small voice.

”A-Yao, may I come closer? Or do you want me to sit down?”

For a moment, nothing happens. Then Meng Yao shakes his head before he nods, and then he lets out a frustrated noise. ”Here,” he finally says.

Xichen lets out a long breath and crosses the distance in a flash. Before he has the time to ask, Meng Yao curls against his chest and presses his face on the hollow of Xichen’s throat.

”I’m sorry,” he whispers.

”No, A-Yao, I’m sorry,” Xichen says and hugs him tight. ”I’m so sorry I made you feel like you had to be afraid of me. I swore myself I’d never let that happen but—” He presses his face into Meng Yao’s hair and breathes him in. The combined emotional strain of dealing with both Wangji’s breakdown and Meng Yao’s panic makes him feel foggy and he grounds himself in the feel of his mate in his arms, the way fear slowly leaks out of his scent, leaving only concern behind.

”Wangji almost Qi-deviated,” he murmurs ages later, in a hoarse voice. ”I was worried about him when I came in. I’m sorry I scared you.”

”I understand,” Meng Yao whispers against his skin. ”Would you…would you like to take a nap?”

”Would you join me?”

”Of course,” Meng Yao says immediately. Xichen draws away from him to see his face and even though his smile is slightly wobbly, his eyes are clear. ”Yes, I want to take a nap with you, alpha,” Meng Yao says.

There’s no trace of fear in his scent and his voice carries the familiar tone of fond exasperation and it makes Xichen so relieved he wants to cry.

”Thank you,” Xichen says and carries his mate to bed.

The next morning, a troubled disciple informs him that Wangji has abruptly departed to the Cloud Recesses. Xichen thanks him for the information and hopes Wangji truly has returned home to process whatever (most likely sad) outcome his talk with Wei Wuxian had. 

”A-Huan,” Meng Yao says quietly. ”I will accompany you to the meeting.”

Xichen blinks and tilts his head, taking in the way Meng Yao has styled his hair and the more formal robes he’s wearing and feels like puzzle pieces are coming together. ”Is this what you’ve been waiting for?”

Meng Yao nods. ”Yes. And—” He pauses and squares his shoulders. ”I will need your support today.”

Xichen smiles, takes his hand, and holds it against his heart. ”You have it. Always.” He kisses the top of Meng Yao’s head and smiles. ”Shall we?”

Xichen holds Meng Yao’s hand as the sect leaders vote not to acknowledge Wen Ruohan’s claims. Jin Guangshan tries to plead them to wait and declares he cannot condemn his sect to war which, of course, ends up in harsh words and insults being flung across the hall and then Wen Chao throws a tantrum only to fall meekly silent when Wei Wuxian taps him on the shoulder with a smile that makes Xichen’s core turn cold. 

Is this truly what Wei Wuxian has turned into after everything that happened to him? Is this why he turned Wangji’s feelings down? Because Xichen is sure that’s exactly what happened.

A strange feeling brushes past him and jolts him from his thoughts. It’s vaguely familiar—somehow it reminds him of Mother, perhaps?—but he forgets about it when Meng Yao’s scent spikes. Worried, Xichen glances at his mate who blinks several times before he slowly turns his head and gives Wei Wuxian a narrow-eyed look.

Wait.

Something makes Xichen glance at Nie Huaisang who looks at Wei Wuxian from behind his fan and then at Meng Yao before his eyes jump to meet Xichen’s gaze and he blinks slowly like a cat.

What?

For a moment, all Xichen can think about is the fact that not only is Meng Yao in whatever scheme Nie Huaisang has been cooking but Wei Wuxian is part of it too? The sheer scope of it leaves him reeling which must echo in his scent because Meng Yao suddenly grips his hand like a vice. It grounds him and returns his attention back to the angry words spat at Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian raises a brow and cuts off their complaints. ”If there’s nothing else,” he says. When the hall stays quiet, he bows and walks out with Wen Chao at his heel.

The moment the doors close behind them, the hall erupts. It’s mostly the minor sect leaders—especially Sect Leader Yao—who voice their displeasure, wanting to make sure they condemn everything Wei Wuxian just said. 

Xichen closes his eyes and, for a short while, just breathes, trying to stave off an impending headache.

”Fellow sect leaders,” Jin Guangshan says, projecting his voice over the noise. ”This has been an eventful two days so far. I suggest we break for late lunch and discuss the matters concerning Wei Wuxian on a later note.”

Xichen sighs and moves to stand up when Meng Yao grips his wrist. ”Wait,” he murmurs and just inclines his head towards the dais. 

A Jin disciple is whispering something to Jin Guangshan who’s wearing a look of displeasure on his face. ”Ah,” he says. ”If I could just ask Sect Leaders Lan, Jiang, and Nie to stay behind, it seems we have, ah, a further thing to discuss.”

The minor sect leaders and their seconds leave the hall, more or less openly curious about what is happening. As soon as they’re gone, the door in the back of the hall opens and Madam Jin walks in, followed by Jin Zixuan and, surprisingly, Maiden Jiang. At his table, Jiang Wanyin’s eyes go wide with shock.

”Thank you all for staying behind,” Madam Jin says. ”A-Xuan, if you please?”

Jin Zixuan nods and activates several privacy talismans, sealing the hall from prying eyes and ears before returning to stand next to Maiden Jiang.

Madam Jin claps his hands together. ”So, let’s begin.”

”What is the meaning of this?” Jin Guangshan barks.

”Oh shut up, you despicable pig,” Madam Jin snaps. ”If you don’t keep quiet, I will ask Sect Leader Lan to silence you—and I promise you, he will.”

Xichen inclines his head. So, we’re doing this now. Good.

Jin Guangshan turns red with rage but he grits his jaw and holds his tongue, staring daggers at his wife.

”I called this meeting to remove Jin Guangshan from the position of Sect Leader,” Madam Jin says, ignoring her husband. ”And I chose to do it publicly is because of the reasons for the removal.

”I am sure the whole cultivation world is aware of my husband’s appetites as he has been neither discreet nor considerate, interested in his own pleasures instead. I am aware of how our marriage is seen and I am more than aware of what is been said about me. I have chosen to overlook his actions, mostly because, well.” Madam Jin sighs and her lips draw to a self-deprecating smile. ”Let’s just say that it has been a weakness in my character.

”However, there are some things that cannot be overlooked. Rape. Rape of child.” 

She pauses and turns to give Jin Guangshan a cold, furious look. 

”Incest.”

The hall is dead silent. Meng Yao sits perfectly still next to Xichen, gripping his hand tightly. Jin Zixuan’s face is serious as is Maiden Jiang’s, and as Xichen glances at the Nie brothers, they look as calm as usual—which means Nie Huaisang’s face is hidden behind his fan and Mingjue looks murderous. Jiang Wanyin’s face is white and his eyes wide and Zidian crackles in his clenched hand.

”Ridiculous,” Jin Guangshan scoffs, leaning back on his throne.

”Is it?” Madam Jin asks coolly.

”Of course!” Jin Guangshan throws his arms wide open. ”Look at them! The only one who looks even slightly shocked is Sect Leader Jiang who, well,” Jin Guangshan directs a condescending look at Jiang Wanyin. ”Sect Leader Jiang is a young, sheltered alpha who has been too busy with wrangling his sect and his defective Head Disciple which—why aren’t we talking about that—”

”Or maybe they’re not shocked because they already knew,” Madam Jin says.

Jin Guangshan freezes mid-sentence, his mouth hanging open. It’s not a very becoming look, Xichen muses.

”Could someone explain to this poor, sheltered alpha what the fuck is going on?” Jiang Wanyin growls.

”Certainly,” Madam Jin says briskly. ”I would like to start by saying that no one in this room shares Jin Guangshan’s view on Sect Leader Jiang. You are a remarkable young alpha who has been doing an excellent job under very taxing circumstances. We are proud to have you as a fellow sect leader.”

Xichen is glad to see Jiang Wanyin square his shoulders and hold his head up at the praise. Growing up as the Violet Spider’s son must have been an ordeal but Jiang Wanyin has nothing to be ashamed of. 

”Some while ago, I received yet another letter concerning my husband’s affairs,” Madam Jin says, her lip curling at the word ’husband’. ”Such letters aren’t uncommon: usually they attempt to get my pity or my money. They receive neither. This letter, however, was different. Instead of telling a sordid tale of how Sect Leader Jin had bedded them and left them with child and no promised money, it was a list of resources. Of people, places, and times.”

”Lies,” Jin Guangshan sneers.

”Exactly what I thought—except they had included witness statements.”

Jin Guangshan narrows his eyes.

”Brothels are one thing. I understand how they work and what’s their purpose in our society. Witness statements from cultivators, midwives, neighbors, to mention a few, are completely another matter.

”When did you decide that societal norms don’t apply to you? When did you decide you don’t have to care about decency? When did you decide it was fine to rape a child?”

”First heat—”

”Don’t you dare lecture me about anatomy and child development!” Madam Jin hisses, furious. ”Just because their anatomy decides to function in a certain way doesn’t mean they are capable of making an informed choice on whether or not to be bedded, and it certainly doesn’t mean their bodies can handle a mating! This should be basic knowledge, and I’m sure the—how did you put it, ’young and sheltered’?—Sect Leader Jiang knows better than to think a twelve years old child is ripe to be picked, huh?” She whirls around and raises an imperious brow at Jiang Wanyin who nods and looks like he might either be sick or die of embarrassment.

”I’m sorry, Jiang Wanyin, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. Call it a motherly instinct,” she says with a slightly sad smile.

With a wan smile, Jiang Wanyin nods.

”So!” Madam Jin says brightly and looks around the room. ”I guess you want proof? Let’s have proof.” She turns to  Maiden Jiang and says, ”Yanli, if you please?”

Maiden Jiang nods and walks to her, holding out a wooden box. Madam Jin lifts a heavy notebook from the box and holds it in her hand. 

”All Jin Guangshan’s affairs, collected in one book,” she says and hands the notebook to Mingjue. 

”Total of seven midwife testimonies, including household registrations,” she continues, handing a bundle to Jiang Wanyin. 

”Total of fifteen cultivator testimonies,” this bundle she hands to Nie Huaisang. 

”A selection of neighbor testimonies,” she says and hands a bundle to Jiang Wanyin’s second. 

”Thank you, Yanli,” she says and Maiden Jiang walks back to stand next to Jin Zixuan.

And then she turns to look at Meng Yao. ”And finally, a first-hand testimony.”

Meng Yao squeezes Xichen’s hand once and stands up. His posture is ramrod straight, his hands carefully held in front of him, and his calm, collected face in place. ”Thank you, Madam Jin,” he says and inclines his head. 

”When I was a child, my mother used to show me a rose-colored pearl. She said it had been a gift from my Sire and was meant to be kept safe for my future. She was so adamant about it that when she caught ill, she didn’t want to use it to pay for a doctor. I was adamant that my mother not die, so, I had to find another way to pay for the doctor. I went to see the Madam.”

In unhurried steps, Meng Yao walks to the center of the room, tilts his head, and lets a faint smile on his lips. ”See, the house I grew up in was a brothel and my mother worked there as a prostitute. I’m sure you can all guess what was the price the Madam wanted me to pay for my mother’s care. Sadly, the medical treatment only gave my mother a couple of years before she passed away but that didn’t matter. Of course it didn’t. I’d made a deal.

”I was twelve when I got my first heat and the Madam told me she had already secured a buyer. An alpha, of course. When a Madam gets their hands on a male omega, his first heat will always be sold to a wealthy alpha.” Meng Yao pauses and ducks his head. ”I will not go into details, I’m sure you can all imagine what followed. When it was finally over, the alpha left me with four rose-colored pearls. Apparently, my first heat was worth more than my mother’s regular heat.” His lips twist into a sneer. ”Of course, I would later learn the pearls were just as worthless as the alpha who bought us both.”

The hall is stunned silent. Huaisang has hidden his face behind his fan and Mingjue’s face looks stormy, but Jiang Wanyin and his second look ready to throw up. Xichen keeps his face smooth and calm even if it means he has to clench his hands so tight he’s sure his nails will pierce the skin.

”I don’t expect you to recognize me,” Meng Yao says as he turns to face Jin Guangshan. ”After all, I look very different from that barely presented child. Then again, you didn’t bother stopping to wonder why our base scents carried the same markers, but…” 

He stops, tilts his head, and lets a gentle smile on his face. Paired with the cold, ruthless look in his eyes, it creates a chilling combination that makes a most inappropriate, hot feeling flare in Xichen’s gut.

”It’s understandable,” Meng Yao says in a condescending tone. ”Sect Leader Jin’s mind must have been very busy indeed.”

Jin Guangshan’s face is pallid grey as Madam Jin asks, ”You have proof?” 

Meng Yao bows. ”Of course,” he says and reaches into his sleeve. ”The pearls and a page from the reservation book.” He holds them out to Madam Jin. ”The Madam knew of our relation,” he adds softly.

A sudden sound of a breaking cup makes Xichen flinch. He glances up to sees Mingjue’s hand clenched into a tight fist and Baxia trembling in his back. ”She knew?” He growls.

Meng Yao inclines his head. ”She’s dead, Sect Leader Nie,” he says.

”Good,” Mingjue grits through his teeth. 

”Is there anything else you wish to add?” Madam Jin asks.

”No. Thank you, Madam Jin,” Meng Yao says and bows deeply before he returns to his place next to Xichen. He still seems calm but when Xichen takes his hand and twines their fingers together, Meng Yao’s hand shakes and his pulse thunders under Xichen’s hold.

If they were alone, Xichen would drag him into his lap and kiss him senseless to remind him how immensely proud of his brave, incredible mate he is.

”Madam Jin,” Jiang Wanyin says slowly. ”Forgive me, but I still don’t understand why you needed us here. Replacing a sect leader is an internal affair and not dependant on how we feel.” He pauses and Zidian crackles. ”Or on how despicable the reasons,” he growls.

Madam Jin turns slowly around, looks each of them in the eye, and somehow seems to grow taller and more imposing by the time she faces her husband once more. ”The reason I asked you here is to witness the following,” she says. ”Jin Guangshan, you are hereby deemed unfit to act as Sect Leader Jin and you are stripped from your rank. As the highest-ranking member of Lanling Jin, I take on the status of Sect Leader Jin until further notice.”

”You can’t do that—”

”My first action as Sect Leader Jin is this,” Madam Jin continues, ignoring the enraged Jin Guangshan. ”Jin Guangshan, for the shame you have brought on this sect and for the despicable acts you have committed, I sentence you to death.”

Jin Guangshan goes white and he looks wildly around, trying to find a way to escape. When none of them meets his eyes, he spits out a curse and lunges from his throne, heading for the door in the back. Jin Zixuan grabs a hold of Maiden Jiang and pushes her out of the way, stepping in front of her to shield her. However, the moment Jin Guangshan moves, Madam Jin throws out her hand, calling for Jin Guangshan’s sword. It flies to her hand and she catches it deftly, swirls around with the momentum, and sends it after her husband. 

It flies true, the glare a bright flash in the room as it cuts through Jin Guangshan’s neck, and then it returns to Madam Jin’s hand.

For a moment, everything is still, the only sound in the room the slow drip of blood from the sword in Madam Jin’s hand. Then Jin Guangshan’s body crumples into the pool of his own blood that stains the opulent gold into dirty brown.

”Sect Leader Jin,” Jin Zixuan says as he takes a step forward and bows deep. Next to him, Maiden Jiang echoes his words and bows as well.

”Sect Leader Jin,” Mingjue and Huaisang say in unison. Jiang Wanyin’s acknowledgment comes slower but is no less heartfelt.

”Sect Leader Jin,” Xichen says with a warm smile and bows. Next to him, Meng Yao bows as well, his relief almost palpable.

Madam Jin lets out a long breath. ”Well. That was unpleasant,” she says as she wipes the sword in a cloth her son hands her. ”I think I’d like to have some tea now.”

As they’re about to retire to their rooms, Madam Jin stops them. 

”What you did, Meng Yao, was very brave,” she says a bit stiffly. ”Thank you.”

Meng Yao bows. ”Thank you, Sect Leader Jin,” he says with a small, tired smile. ”If I may be so bold, I want nothing from Lanling Jin. I don’t intend to ask for official recognition, and I don’t want to be included in the Jin household registration. I am quite happy where I am,” he says and looks at Xichen who is helpless to do else but smile back.

”Is that so?” Madam Jin asks after a moment of contemplation.

”All I wanted was to make my Sire pay for what he’d done,” Meng Yao says softly. ”You made that possible. I am in your debt, Sect Leader Jin.”

”Hm,” Madam Jin says.

Xichen wonders how it must feel for her, talking to Meng Yao. He’s a living embodiment of Jin Guangshan’s affairs and even though Meng Yao provided the evidence that more than granted her the right to execute her husband, doing so must grate her. 

”You have a cunning mate,” she says to Xichen, confirming Xichen’s suspicion that she knows exactly what Meng Yao is doing now, placing himself in her debt.

Xichen gives in to his urges and lifts Meng Yao’s hand to kiss his knuckles. ”Oh, I know,” he murmurs, ”And I’m so very proud of him.” He looks at Meng Yao and feels heat in his belly when Meng Yao blinks and then ducks his head in an attempt to hide his blush. 

Madam Jin snorts. ”I see,” she says. ”In that case, I congratulate you on your choice of a mate, Sect Leader Lan.”

Xichen inclines his head. ”Thank you—although I must admit I feel like I’m the lucky one to be chosen, Sect Leader Jin.”

She makes a face. ”It’s going to take me some time to get used to that,” she mutters and shakes her head. 

Then she bows and turns back to the hall where Jin Zixuan, Maiden Jiang, and Sect Leader Jiang are waiting. If the stormy look on Jiang Wanyin’s face and the way Maiden Jiang is holding his hand are anything to go by, that talk won’t be pleasant for any of them. The Nie brothers have slipped out already but Xichen is sure Mingjue will search for him later to either talk or to get raging drunk. Or both. Most likely both.

He wonders how much Mingjue knew already. And how much of this all had been orchestrated by Huaisang.

”A-Huan?” Meng Yao says softly, jolting him from his thoughts. 

There’s the barest hint of anxiety in his eyes and Xichen wants it gone. He smiles and leans down to kiss his mate on the forehead and then says, ”Come.”

They walk back to their appointed quarters, passing a couple of minor sect leaders who just happen to be walking around in that area. Apart from cordial nods, Xichen ignores them. They can learn about the power shift tomorrow like everyone else.

When they’re finally in the privacy of their room, Meng Yao stops, lets out a long breath, and wilts. It tells a lot he lets Xichen see it—usually, he’s very good at keeping himself calm and collected. But the meeting had rattled him: not only had it been his first official outing as the mate of Sect Leader Lan but it had also required him to expose his past.

Xichen hums and wraps his hands around his mate. ”What can I do to help, A-Yao?”

”With what?” Meng Yao grumbles against his chest.

”With anything you need.”

”Bath. Bed.”

”With or without me?”

Meng Yao thinks for a moment. ”With you,” he says.

Xichen smiles, kisses his temple, and goes to prepare a bath.

Having a cunning mate doesn’t bother Xichen. He’s secure in his relationship—he loves A-Yao and he knows A-Yao loves him. He feels it’s a privilege to watch his mate's mind work, to see him direct all his knowledge and organization skills to run the sect so smoothly that even Uncle is grudgingly impressed. 

Or, almost all his skills.

Because now that Xichen knows there’s something connecting A-Yao, Huaisang, and Wei Wuxian, he can’t quite leave the thought alone. They’re all exceptionally intelligent, they’re all ruthless, they’re all omegas—how long have they been planning whatever they’re planning? Because they are planning something, Xichen is sure about it. Meng Yao doesn’t talk about it but he sees the correspondence his mate doesn’t try to hide from him. It must have something to do with Wen Ruohan, it’s the only logical explanation.

So, when the allied clans launch the campaign against Nightless City after defeating Wen Ruohan’s sons, Xichen is in no way surprised when Meng Yao informs him he’ll come with. Uncle protests but knows better than trying to force Meng Yao to stay behind.

”Is there something I need to know, A-Yao?” He asks as they prepare. ”To either help or…I don’t know, whatever you need. Within reason, of course. We are heading out to meet the insane Chief Cultivator, after all.”

Meng Yao frowns. ”You are sure your brother is coming?”

Xichen nods. ”I’m sure. Whatever happened between them in Lanling, I don’t think anything can keep Wangji away from Wei Wuxian.”

”Good,” Meng Yao says. ”Other than that…don’t try to stop what needs to happen.”

Xichen watches him for a moment. ”Is Wei Wuxian going to kill Wen Ruohan? Or…no, you wouldn’t warn me if that was the case.” He pauses and then asks, horrified, ”Is he going to kill himself?” 

Meng Yao touches his cheek. ”I honestly don’t know. Please, don’t ask more questions. I don’t want to lie to you but I also can’t tell you everything.”

”You think I’d tell Wangji.”

”No, I don’t,” Meng Yao says and shakes his head. ”But he can read you just as well as you can read him. If I tell you, he’ll know.”

Xichen closes his eyes. ”And he’d do anything to prevent it,” he says.

”Just like I would, if it was you,” Meng Yao whispers. ”As would you, if it was me.”

Xichen knows all that. But he also remembers the terrible damage Wangji inflicted on himself after Wei Wuxian rejected him in Lanling and he’s terrified what will happen if—

He doesn’t want to think how Wangji would cope if Wei Wuxian truly died.

”Oh, how I want this to be over already,” Xichen sighs, frustrated. ”I want to be able to just live. And love you.”

”But you are doing that already, A-Huan,” Meng Yao points out.

And Xichen—

He stops, wonders if it can be that simple. Surely it can’t—they are about to clash with an insane and immensely powerful demonic sect leader, and there are no guarantees of how many of them will walk out of Nightless City alive. 

But does it matter?

Because Meng Yao is here, in his arms, ready to follow him where Xichen needs to go.

Ready to fight for him. For them. For them all.

Perhaps it is that simple.

Lan Xichen considers himself a simple man. 

And loving Meng Yao is perhaps the simplest thing he’s ever done.