Summary: After a while he can feel a palm against his face, gentle fingers soft and soothing. It’s not real, not exactly: he can tell the difference between a ghost’s touch and a living person’s, between a spirit-vision and an overactive imagination. His education has been thorough. But the beating has also been thorough, so for now he forgets what he knows and leans into it, into the hand cupping his cheek. It’s soft and dry as those forgotten petals, as the touch of a pillow. He can smell wildflowers, can taste blood and dirt. My baby, his mother says, and he closes his eyes. My treasure. He barely remembers the sound of her voice, but the feeling of it is just the same. Just the same as ever. [In which Lan Wangji loses almost everything, plants a garden, and grows a second chance.]

Mojo's comments: Oh. gahasdlkfjdslalk. This is ripped me open and put me back together in a whole, new way. What an exquisite and unique story, and told in such a beautiful, dreamy, contemplative way. I am in love. In which, after his 33 lashes, lan wangji is exposed to new ideas, does lots of introspection, learns to cultivate a garden ("cultivate", get it?), learns about his actually very extraordinary mother, and chooses his own path. And then stumbles across a mostly-emptied mo xuanyu and decides to put his horticultural magic to the test. Beautiful. (And I say this as a gardener.)

Excerpt: “You did this for me,” Wei Ying says, finally. Wangji looks at him with surprise. Wei Ying studies his face, and then smiles. It’s hesitant and slim, but it’s the first real smile Wangji has seen from him in—oh, it feels like a hundred empty years. “What can I say to that,” Wei Ying asks him. “How can I ever repay you?” Repay him? There is no debt between them, and if there were it would be Wangji’s. Wangji is the one who let him fall, who let him walk the narrow path alone. Wei Ying is the one who opened his life like a door at the end of a long stifling winter, to let the light and air in. He’d transformed Wangji as surely as if he were a fallow field, seeded and watered him until new shoots came up. If Wangji is green and alive now, it is Wei Ying’s doing. Before they met Wangji was sure he’d never love. And now he feels so full with it there is barely room for anything else. Wangji puts a hand to Wei Ying’s cheek, and Wei Ying wavers in surprise but he does not pull away. Wangji rubs his thumb against the soft skin under his eye, above the bone. “You owe me nothing,” Wangji says. “Oh, that can’t be true,” Wei Ying says, but softly, and his great liquid eyes watch Wangji’s like candle flames.

Summary:  Song Lan finds a mountain with an immortal. Unfortunately, resurrecting Xiao Xingchen isn't as simple as he'd hoped.

My comments:  Oh, my heart goes out to Song Zichen, who is trying so hard to bring back his loved ones. The OC immortal that he finally finds is simply adorable, I loved her: rather brusque and to-the-point but careful and affectionate, too. When Xiao Xingchen finally is created and wakes up... he's regressed mentally, probably because of the ptsd from what happened when he killed himself. This, of course, utterly breaks Song Lan's heart :( although he'll take good care of xxc no matter what his mental state is. (It gets better!  Happy ending!)

Summary:  When Jin Guangyao finds himself resurrected through another body-sacrificing ritual, he plans to fulfill the caster’s wish and flee as soon as possible. Unfortunately, it seems the previous owner of his body had business with Lan Sect. Post-canon. Written for XiYao Week 2019, with each chapter loosely corresponding to the day's prompts.

My comments:  Interesting premise, wherein Jin Guangyao is resurrected into a woman’s body. Not a pairing I've sought out, but I'm glad I stumbled across this. Arc is about reverting to bad behaviors out of fear, and being loved, and being found out, and redemption while learning to accept help. Learning to live with guilt and move beyond self-loathing. Lots of angst. (Lots of fluff in the last 3 chapters.)

I'm not sure why it isn't rated. I'd rate it a soft M for sex and descriptions of childbirth.