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It hadn’t happened immediately, or all at once. It hadn’t even been easy. But despite everything, despite the years, and what Wei Wuxian had said, and Jiang Cheng’s own determination not to do this to himself again, and every other fucking would-be should-be obstacle, Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian began to talk again.
A-Ling was insufferable about it, of course. Jiang Cheng’s brat nephew was a nosy little meddler that couldn’t seem to mind his own business and would happily insert himself in yours if he thought it was best for you, whether you wanted him to or not — just like his mother. Not that he would have ever called a-jie a brat.
It was hard to stay fully pissed at someone when you missed them so damn much. It was even harder when the memory of your sister’s eyes was giving you both exasperated, disappointed looks from the face of a know-it-all kid.
Things were still new and unsettled. Lan Wangji was still looking at Jiang Cheng as if he was a wild animal, some mad dog, with a wary eye as if he was waiting for Jiang Cheng to lunge. Jiang Cheng wasn’t positive how long the peace would last, if he could trust Wei Wuxian could stay this time.
But – even so. It was…nice.
They were still the men they had always been. Wei Wuxian had gotten challenging and competitive and boastful like instinct, and then shrunk back and faltered like he wasn’t sure it was allowed. He’d downright bloomed when Jiang Cheng responded in kind, so they’d continued like that; at discussion conferences, on night hunts, in restaurants, dares and bets and 'I’ll beat you there's that made Jiang Cheng feel like an idiot teenager again.
And when the time came for Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji to, for the first time since Wei Wuxian’s resurrection, visit Lotus Pier as invited guests, Jiang Cheng was fucking determined to show off exactly how much the rebuilt Lotus Pier had flourished since Jiang Cheng had taken the reins.
It had been going well so far, he thought.
Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian had arrived and been shown to the guest quarters Jiang Cheng had meticulously organized: well-appointed, situated near to the most central parts of Lotus Pier with easy access into the rest of Yunmeng, but still close enough to Jiang Cheng’s own rooms to indicate that they were the sect leader’s personal guests.
And Jiang Cheng believed in giving credit where it was due: the welcome feast had blown them away. Served in the vast dining hall that they used for conferences or special events, crammed to the gills with Yunmeng Jiang’s finest disciples and enough food that it’d make the tables creak, if they weren’t so sturdy and well-made. Dumplings so plump and juicy they were like ripe fruit weighing down the boughs of trees. Cloud-soft mantou. Cuts of fresh meat from recent hunts, roasted until it came apart with a touch. Whole fish, baked in sauce and shimmering with heat and rich spices. Pears, peaches, and melons cut into the shape of swans and flowers.
There was laughter and conversation that went late into the night, a far cry from the silent, meditative meals at Cloud Recesses — though Jiang Cheng had already realized that Lan Wangji made no effort to convince his husband not to talk while he ate, not even when he was doing it with his mouth full.
It was a triumph. It was a celebration.
It was only right, for the return of someone who had once been a vital center of Lotus Pier’s beating heart, after so long away.
The expression on Lan Wangji’s face when Jiang Cheng had turned towards him and the thin, long-suffering line of his mouth, and then pointed out the specially-made assortment of vegetarian dishes at the head table, chosen to better reflect the Lan palette while still maintaining its Yunmeng influences? Priceless.
After that auspicious start, the visit continued to follow Jiang Cheng’s generous itinerary. He pulled out all the stops to show them the best of Yunmeng, show them exactly how special Lotus Pier was, how it was thriving, so different today than it had been when Wei Wuxian had left it.
He took them out on the lake, rowed them over the gemlike, ever-changing blues and greens of the water, between bright patches of blooming lotuses, past banks full of lounging disciples and low-hanging willows that just brushed the water’s edge. Wei Wuxian, of course, had swum through every part of it, knew all of its caverns and nooks — but it was new for Lan Wangji.
Lan Wangji was granted full access to Lotus Pier’s libraries, permission to borrow and study as he saw fit. He may not be fond of Jiang Cheng, but Jiang Cheng knew he was too good a student to take that out on the books. He would treat them with respect. That gave him something to do while Wei Wuxian was being laughingly chased by eager disciples, who had only barely managed to hold back until Jiang Cheng had given them permission, asking hundreds of questions about archery and swordplay and Jiang Cheng himself. And then it gave him something to do while Wei Wuxian was taking disciples to shoot kites, and impressing them with trick shots, and showing them the method behind a talisman, glancing at Jiang Cheng all the time as if expecting to be stopped.
They explored Yunmeng’s buzzing central marketplace, the one that lived and swelled just outside of Lotus Pier’s gates. Shopkeepers pressed samples into their hands, sticky tanghulu and packages of crackers. Jiang Cheng knew Hanguang-jun was more than wealthy enough to buy himself and Wei Wuxian both anything they wanted, but he was still showing off; when he noticed their eyes lingering a little too long on something that they left the market without, it would show up later at their quarters. A small wooden box, carved in exquisite detail with scenes of rabbits under the moon. A well-stocked set of spices packed for traveling, rows of compact vessels, kept safe and separated by wooden racks. A bag of ripe loquats, still warm from the sun.
They sparred. They talked. They took meals in Jiang Cheng’s private rooms.
He’d thought it was going well. In fact, Jiang Cheng had been feeling increasingly smug about how it was going; they’d see the value of Yunmeng, when he was done with them.
So why was Lan Wangji now glaring at him as he cornered Jiang Cheng in his own office, with Wei Wuxian nowhere to be seen?
Lan Wangji’s brow was heavy and furrowed, his eyes narrowed. His sword was sheathed, and he didn’t seem intent on violence, so Jiang Cheng had allowed him to press close until Jiang Cheng’s back was against the wall, waiting for the man to explain.
No explanations had been forthcoming so far. Lan Wangji stared at him intently, silent.
“What?” Jiang Cheng snapped, when it seemed like he’d be waiting forever.
“What is —” Lan Wangji began, uncharacteristically faltering. The man didn’t speak much, but the words he did say he usually seemed very sure of. “What are your… intentions,” Lan Wangji finally managed to spit out. “With your recent behavior.”
“What recent behavior?” Jiang Cheng asked, exasperated already. Truly, what the fuck? He’d been exemplary. He’d been a model host. He hadn’t done anything to be perturbed about.
Lan Wangji searched his face with intense focus.
“The gifts. And–” Lan Wangji swallowed, his hands restless at his sides. “You have been excessively solicitous of my needs. Wei Ying, I can understand. I expected you to make an effort for him, but me — What is your agenda?”
Jiang Cheng scoffed.
“That’s what this is about? You’re a guest. I’m being a good fucking host. Is that concept entirely unfamiliar to you?”
Lan Wangji pulled back slightly, his wrinkled brow taking on a frownier countenance.
“You do not even like me,” he said, as if that was an infallible argument.
“That’s not even true anymore!” Jiang Cheng protested, throwing his hands up.
He would’ve gone on, but there was a scuffling sound, and then Wei Wuxian was stumbling into view from behind the doorway.
“Whoa,” he said, as if he had somehow surprised himself, straightening his robes. “Haha, hi. I think maybe there’s some confusion happening in here!”
“Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng chided.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji intoned, simultaneously.
“How long have you been listening?” Jiang Cheng asked, already knowing the look of a Wei Wuxian who had been eavesdropping. There was no reason for anyone to be hovering so close to the door of Jiang Cheng’s slightly secluded office, anyway; coming in from the side like that was an obvious tell that he hadn’t just arrived.
“Don’t mind that, don’t mind!” Wei Wuxian said brightly, waving his hand as if the implication was a stink he could fan away. “Can you really blame a man for being curious when his husband sneaks off on his own to have a private talk with our esteemed host? Admittedly, I did hope it’d be juicier than this.”
“I did not sneak,” Lan Wangji said, exceedingly sullen. He got matching doubtful looks from them both.
“Anyway!” Wei Wuxian continued, chipper. “Jiang Cheng, you were saying?”
Jiang Cheng huffed a sharp breath.
“What, that I don’t dislike him anymore? I don’t. We’ve spent significantly more time together now, through you.” He looked at Lan Wangji, who still looked more perplexed than seemed reasonable. Jiang Cheng didn’t dislike him the way he once had. Honestly, despite the occasional animosity, Lan Wangji had proven himself to be a more than tolerable companion. He had sound insights. He could sit in the same room reading without starting to wriggle and then throwing things at Jiang Cheng. He was even, very rarely, slyly funny. “I know you better now, and you make Wei Wuxian happy, so. Just because you still hate me–”
“I do not,” Lan Wangji interrupted.
Jiang Cheng raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“Jiang Wanyin has grown on me,” Lan Wangji clarified, sounding defensive. “And you — also make Wei Ying happy.”
“You are constantly glaring at me,” Jiang Cheng pointed out, though there was something pleased curling in his chest.
“Jiang Cheng!” Wei Wuxian whined. “Don’t be unfair! That’s just his face!”
“So if you don’t hate me, then what’s the problem?” Jiang Cheng asked. A part of his mind was already recontextualizing several recent memories with the new implication that Lan Wangji was not, in fact, trying to set him on fire with his eyes alone. If Wei Wuxian could be trusted about this, at least — an expert in Lan Wangji-isms, maybe, but he wasn’t exactly an unbiased source. “What’s even happening in this conversation? Why are you mad?”
“I am confused,” Lan Wangji corrected.
“Why are you confused, then?” Jiang Cheng amended, with a roll of his eyes. Same thing, really, when it resulted in him being backed into his office wall.
“I was under the impression that Jiang Wanyin did not like me,” Lan Wangji reasoned, his brows still drawn tight. “I did not understand his behavior.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Jiang Cheng said. “I’m hosting. What is happening here? I’d be a damn good host even if I didn’t like you, it’s a part of my job.”
“Oh,” Wei Wuxian said, and now he sounded strange. “Haha, so. There’s not any scheming in there? Not even a little scheme?”
“What the hell would I be scheming to do?” Jiang Cheng asked, taking a hard turn into extremely bewildered.
“I don’t know!” Wei Wuxian replied, suspiciously high-pitched. “Nothing! To make it really, really hard to leave? Maybe?”
Jiang Cheng’s breath stuttered. He sternly reminded it that nothing was meant by this; just Wei Wuxian talking nonsense, as usual.
“What are you saying?” he asked, keenly hearing his own wariness.
“Really, nothing!” Wei Wuxian said. “Nothing! Right, Lan Zhan?”
“Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng warned.
“I don’t know!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, tossing up his arms. “It’s really, really nice to be here! You know that! You’ve made very sure of it! People in Cloud Recesses don’t like me all that much, except the juniors! And everyone’s all judgey at Lan Zhan, even if he says he doesn’t care! I kind of care that they’re doing it because of me! And the food isn’t as good — sorry Lan Zhan. And here, it’s like everyone saw that you decided to be nice to me, and just took that to mean they should also be nice to me? And I really missed it, even when I was trying to tell myself I didn’t want to come back and it’d be okay if I didn’t ever! And you are a very good host, I guess! I’ve never been hosted by you before, I didn’t know how good you were at it! So I guess, maybe, I — we thought it was more… well, specific? Not just how you’d do it for anyone that came to visit?”
Jiang Cheng was very aware of how perilous this felt, how momentous. He could see in his mind different paths branching off from this moment, the potential results of allowing himself to fully make himself vulnerable again in a way he hadn’t been in a long time, and all the risks that came with it. Conversely, he could keep holding his feelings and almost everyone else at a distance, enough to keep his armor whole — and ensure he’d remain separated from the world around him, to an extent.
He took a deep breath, roughly shaking his head.
“You dumbass. Of course I wouldn’t do all of this for just anyone. Do you really think I have that kind of free time? I worked hard to tailor things to the two of you, you don’t get to just write that off as if there was nothing specific about it.”
“Oh,” Wei Wuxian said again, blinking very rapidly. “That’s — Yeah, well, that’s why I was wondering! It’s been — it’s been really good.”
“Are you saying you don’t want to leave just yet?” Jiang Cheng asked, needing more than that. “Lan Wangji, you too? I know we’re coming towards the end of what was planned, but — we could extend things, if you don’t have other commitments.”
“Me too,” Lan Wangji confirmed. “Nothing else important.”
“Yeah, ah, Lan Zhan and I were just — we were thinking, if you’d be okay with it, we might want to stretch our visit longer,” Wei Wuxian said. He was shifting constantly, bouncing lightly on his toes, and not looking at Jiang Cheng. “Like. Indefinitely. Who knows. I mean, no one else is using the rooms, right? Are they? So if they’re just sitting there open all the time, it feels like sort of a waste. They’re nice rooms. So we could just — use them. For longer.”
Jiang Cheng swallowed. Something tight and long-held in his chest unclenched.
“We could do that,” he said, trying very hard to keep his voice from wavering.
“If Jiang Wanyin does not object, there’s another matter we might want to discuss,” Lan Wangji added, significantly more even and confident-sounding than before.
“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian yelped, darting a panicked glance at Jiang Cheng. “No, abort, no, we’re doing so good! I was wrong, anyway, and I wasn’t — I was just saying! Now that I know the — the things that I know, because of you, it’s put some other stuff in a new light! But — let’s not mess it up, okay? Haha, husband? Let’s just take the win and go back to our room? We can have really athletic sex in there, okay?”
Lan Wangji ignored him, and instead turned to stare directly into Jiang Cheng’s eyes.
“I would like to broach the possibility of courting. Specifically, among the three of us in this room.”
Jiang Cheng looked at him, and behind him, at the anxious pallor of Wei Wuxian’s face.
Lan Wangji looked entirely serious. Wei Wuxian, though he looked like he might bolt, did not leap in to correct him.
So many emotions flooded Jiang Cheng at once. Not all of them were negative. Many of them weren’t negative, actually.
But what the fuck do you even say to something like that?
“What?!”
Not a great start. But, as Jin Ling would be extremely, undeservedly smug about later: even faltering, uncomfortable starts were, in fact, starts.