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Chapter Text

It was supposed to be a great honor.

In retrospect, Wei Wuxian should have known it was a damned dirty lie. It was just the unlikeliness of the situation took him by surprise. So did the final reveal of said damned dirty lie. But in the beginning, standing with Lan Wangji in the Yashi of Cloud Recesses across from Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren while facing down an official imperial messenger wearing the most ridiculously oversized hat he’d ever seen in his life… well he’d been forced to take the matter at face value, though not without some protest.

“I’ve been selected as part of a ceremonial tribute for Guandi, the god of war?” repeated Wei Wuxian with a muddled expression.

“Yes!” confirmed the messenger, with marked enthusiasm.

Lan Wangji’s mouth hinted at a frown. Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren shared a concerned look. “You are certain you have the right man?” Lan Qiren asked, ever the soul of courtesy when he wasn’t addressing Wei Wuxian… except he’d spoken with the same gentle tone he used to chastise the bitty Lans for sucking on their forehead ribbon.

It was absolutely a slight.

Wei Wuxian hid a smile behind his hand, even though the situation was actually rather unsettling. Most people (who weren’t incurably ambitious) tried to avoid the attention of the imperials, because Heavenly Emperor Xuanzheng (not to be confused with Jade Emperor Yu Huang, who was the actual Emperor of Heaven and didn’t execute people for coughing during royal ceremonies) was capricious to a fault. Still, Wei Wuxian found it rather sweet to see the big Lans with their feathers all ruffled on his behalf. Acceptance by the fuddy-duddies had been a slow process, but once obtained was quite heartwarming.

Meanwhile, the messenger took the question with utmost seriousness. He squinted at the scroll, cocked his head, squinted at Wei Wuxian, and then smiled. It wasn’t the nicest of smiles. Then he assured them with all the audacity of a teacup shih tzu confronting a much larger shar-pei that there was no mistake. No sir, the Heavenly Emperor had definitely chosen correctly.

“I will be participating with Wei Ying,” announced Lan Wangji.

Wei Wuxian flung himself over with robes and red ribbon flying and grabbed Lan Wangji by his pristine white sleeve. “Ah, ah, Lan Zhan, don’t be so quick to offer!”

Lan Wangji glanced down at the slender hand curled around his left wrist. Then he clamped his right hand over the top, pulling Wei Wuxian closer and holding him there, possessively so. And stared, unblinking, at the messenger as if challenging him to refuse.

But the messenger was braver then his silly hat suggested. He squinted at the scroll again, considered Lan Wangji, and then refused the demand outright. “It says Wei Ying, courtesy name Wuxian; Yiling Patriarch, Yiling Laozu, recently returned in the body of Mo Xuanyu — redeemed,” and the last word he pronounced with skepticism. “No other name is listed here.”

“Erm, that would be me,” and Wei Wuxian gently extracted himself from Lan Wangji. He had to admit they’d nailed him down.

“His surname is Lan,” corrected Lan Wangji, as if trying to wrest his precious husband from whatever the imperials were planning by any means necessary, including spelling errors, pedantry, and obfuscation. Cold-blooded murder was also on the table, presumably administered in the form of hypothermia via icy stare, or failing that, at the point of a frigid sword.

Lan Qiren sputtered, as was his wont when reminded of certain happenings beyond his control. It had been years, but his heart still palpitated at times. The whole “he dug up my beautiful cabbage and gobbled it down with hot chili sauce” emotional constipation hadn’t yet passed. 

“I see,” said the messenger, who then borrowed a quill and wrote in the additional surname. “Thank you for the clarification.”

“And I am coming with him.”

The imperial messenger hesitated, but finally relented before the frigid expression of Hanguang-Jun resulted in frostbite. He admitted that a small escort party would be acceptable up to the gates of the imperial palace to a prepared place, but no further. Realizing their trepidation, he tried to settle their suspicions. He assured them that Wei Wuxian was merely one of a handful of men from their province of Hubei who were being summoned, but otherwise had little further to offer.

Wei Wuxian accepted the official scroll from a concerned-looking Lan Xichen while the imperial messenger stood at attention. He double-checked and yes, he really was going to have to attend… whatever this was. He eyed the messenger and his stupid hat speculatively.

It was true this year was the anniversary of Guandi’s ascension to godhood. It was also true that a special celebration had been ordered by the Heavenly Emperor, based on a tradition that was countless centuries old. The Lans understood and accepted that much. Less credible was that the imperials had selected the Yiling Laozu for this honor.

That their province belonged to a massive empire was something of a distant notion, because Hubei was so remote. Insulated from the sprawling imperial city-province, they were spared the palace intrigues and especially the emperor’s churlish whims and for that they were fortunate. Their distant province was expected to handle issues themselves as the lack of any imperial offices or stationed officials beyond tax collection attested. The people of Hubei were generally out of sight and mind of Exalted Heavenly Beings who definitely never cheated at ts'u-chü or suffered natural bodily functions like flatulence. The greatest way Emperor Xuanzheng intruded upon their lives was in the form of yearly taxes, which were gathered and surrendered by the various clans straight into the emperor’s vast coffers, to maintain the spectacularly terrifying imperial armies. It was understood that this money was not so much for public services or protection from enemies, but rather to ensure that the Emperor and his vast armies didn’t become an enemy of the people living in Hubei.

That last part was very important.

So long as money flowed into the imperial coffers, the great clans and numerous smaller ones and all their quaint peasantry would be duly ignored. Even when some of them did things like steal ancient artifacts and try to slaughter their way across the quaint province, because whatever else he’d done, Wen Ruohan had paid his goddamned taxes.

“Do you… actually know who I am?” Wei Wuxian asked the messenger, after reading the scroll for the umpteenth time. He peeked past the strands of his hair fringes as he continued, “I never thought to be selected for, um, something like this.” He had trouble imagining anyone would want to bestow great honors upon him; it wasn’t his usual experience or expectation. “People who recognize the Yiling Laozu usually want to kill me, not honor me.”

The messenger’s nose wrinkled. He did know of the Yiling Laozu and said as much. “It’s a random selection of notable cultivators,” he confessed with the merest insinuation of distaste. From his smug expression he clearly thought he was hiding his feelings better than he was.

Lan Wangji’s brow twitched.

The other Lans tensed around Wei Wuxian. They were offended on his behalf, though only those familiar with their subdued expressions would have noticed. Outside the window, someone seemed in the midst of a shout (it was Lan Jingyi) but was muffled in time by someone else (it was Lan Sizhui) such that there was no evidence that anyone might have been listening in. That was fortunate, because doing so would’ve broken a number of rules and no righteous little Lans would ever do such a thing.

Even Lan Qiren bristled, though his annoyance was more of the ‘only Lans have the right to make mean insinuations about Wei Wuxian’ variety. Because whatever else Wei Wuxian was, he was first and foremost a Lan problem. This was an improvement from years past; evidence that the old Lan was finally warming up to him. As warm as sunshine glinting on a glacier to be sure — still a good sign!

The bigger problem was Lan Wangji had not been selected. That meant he wouldn’t be allowed to join Wei Wuxian during the actual ceremony, but the messenger assured that they wouldn’t be separated for long. Even so, he couldn’t tell Wei Wuxian what being part of Guandi’s tribute entailed, beyond that it was a great honor to participate in the re-enactment of his greatest battle.

Then the messenger gave them a place and time, bowed, and promptly left.

And that was that.

-o-o-o-

At first it seemed Wei Wuxian would be the only Lan to participate.

That was, until a cultivator from a neighboring town (who’d also been selected) came down with a sudden case of death by irate chòumáo guǐ (bad-smelling hair) ghost. He’d somehow forgotten which way the pointy end of his sword was supposed to go, or something along those lines. Copious amounts of wine had been involved. Details were sparse. Rumors had it that the man may, or may not, have owed Hanguang-Jun some money — or maybe his life, or possibly a child’s life, sick wife, basketful of kittens, a steamed bun — or some such something and so there was a distinct possibility the man may have faked his own death. The details weren’t important. The important thing was that the man may, or may not, be actually dead and so the imperials definitely needed a replacement.

Lan Wangji had volunteered so fast as to knock over a number of fancy hats. He may have known in advance. It was honestly, suspiciously, just that fast.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” protested Wei Wuxian, followed by a more honest “but thank heavens we’ll be together!” after a subdued Lan Xichen gave them the news that Lan Wangji had been accepted as a replacement. “This tribute ceremony will be no match for the combined forces of the Yiling Laozu and the handsome and renowned Hanguang-Jun!”

Lan Wangji agreed with a neutral-sounding “mn.”

More importantly, the tension in Lan Wangji’s shoulders eased. He would've gone to the imperial palace, regardless that he'd be forced to wait at some secondary location until the ceremony was complete if not participating. That meant separation from Wei Wuxian for an undetermined amount of time, something he could not abide, especially in such a perilous place.

The look on Lan Xichen’s face — politely directed up towards the Hanshi’s ceiling — suggested he wasn’t so confident. “You must protect each other in the great dragon’s den,” he murmured aloud. “I cannot bear to lose any more family members.” He had the grace to blush after realizing he’d spoken such a private thought aloud.

Lan Wangji pretended not to hear, while Wei Wuxian threw himself at his brother-in-law and hugged him. The force of his hug unbalanced them both for a few steps, their ribbons of red and white fluttering together. He knew Zewu-Jun considered him family, but it was another thing to hear the words spoken. His eyes glittered with delight. “I will bring Lan Zhan home to you,” he said, fingers lifted in promise.

“And yourself,” insisted Lan Xichen.

“Of course!”

“I have your word,” and Lan Xichen sighed. “I would feel more confident if we had a better understanding of what this tribute ceremony actually entailed.”

The Lan’s research into past tributes had been frustratingly difficult. The books in the Library Pavilion held little information on the subject. They’d learned that only a handful of men from each province were summoned to the imperial palace to take part, but there were a lot of provinces, so the actual number of participants would be in the hundreds. This sounded a little more reassuring. The rumor mill confirmed that the actual enactment would be happening outside the mortal realm. Some insisted there had been casualties in the past. That was less reassuring. A moth-eaten section of scroll found smashed under an archival tome from a thousand years ago described the tribute as a “bloodbath of inhuman proportions!”

—good feelings gone.

The only thing the Lans could determine for sure was that an immortal mansion would be handling the mundanities of interdimensional travel as heaven would be summoning the participants away for a period of time, but to the people waiting in the mortal realm, the summoning and return would be instantaneous due to a time dilation between heaven and earth.

“Well, at least you’ll know the outcome immediately,” Wei Wuxian had offered, his head resting on his palm, his elbows propped on the library’s low table in violation of rule number something-something. His eyes had twinkled while studious Lans ransacked the Library Pavilion book by book, trying to save him.

Tough crowd — no one had laughed.

It had seemed the Lans found that cold comfort. Lan Wangji had been especially upset. The thought of Wei Wuxian whisked away to a different plane of existence for an unknown amount of time had disturbed him so much that he’d struggled to sleep. He'd managed his emotions in his usual way, as a majestic Hanguang-Jun during the day and by fucking Wei Wuxian through the bed at night. Actually, his Wei Ying hadn't even touched the bed for the first week; clutched too firmly in protective arms with his head nestled in the hollow of his chest.

“Er-gege?” Wei Wuxian had whispered in the darkness, during one of the longest nights. “You know I can protect myself? If I promise everything will be alright, would you believe it?”

Silence had been his answer.

It was a loving silence. Lan Wangji's arms had tightened somehow, his eyes glittering in the moonlight. His mouth had moved in the ghost of a “mn” but the sound never escaped his throat. It was just that he'd already been granted an unlikely miracle. Lightening didn't strike twice, but disasters were as common as rainstorms.

Lan Wangji's dismay had lasted until it was confirmed that he would be participating after all. Then serenity had descended upon him — the sort of peace that only the truly skilled at murdering husband-threatening things could feel. They were both still anxious, but at least they would face whatever was coming together.

It was supposed to be a great honor… so why did everyone feel so uneasy?

-o-o-o-

The day of summoning arrived faster than anyone felt ready.

The morning dawned beautifully upon the Cloud Recesses; wreathed in misty vapor and dew drops. The breath of the mountain tousled everyone’s beautifully adorned hair and tossed cherry blossoms willy-nilly around them. It was the sort of morning that should be spent lounging under a pavilion drinking piping-hot breakfast tea and shouting cheerful greetings at little Lans while the old Lan groaned from his dais at the disturbance — seven rules broken and counting — instead of what they were actually doing, which was preparing to placate a tyrant half a continent away.

The blossoms were lovely regardless.

Wei Wuxian plucked a petal from Lan Wangji’s shoulder and returned it to the whimsy of the wind. Walking hand-in-hand, they were complementary measures of white and black beneath the blossoms, with the little Lans tucking in behind them like ducklings.

And so Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian gathered with the senior Lans in the middle of the courtyard, preparing to be summoned by the imperial sorcerers. Lan Xichen, Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi, and a host of elders and guardsmen accompanied them to the appointed place. Ceremonial robes fluttered in the cool mountain breeze. The grounding teleportation spell provided by the imperials was readied.

“Xiong-zhang,” greeted Lan Wangji, his fingers still interlaced with Wei Wuxian’s. “We are ready to depart.”

Lan Xichen smiled as he took his place at the head of the party, but his eyes were strained. “I think we are all looking forward to the conclusion of this week’s events.”

Zewu-Jun’s words were gentle, but his tone made clear his understanding of the stress they were suffering. Any visit to the Imperial Palace was fraught with peril. The Heavenly Emperor was known for capriciousness — just ask the harem’s worth of dead concubines languishing in their pretty graves. It was true that the royals were best avoided. Lan Xichen cautioned everyone to mind their manners as if a matter of life and death, because this visit absolutely was.

“Are you ready?” asked Wei Wuxian of his husband, speaking softly after Xichen stepped away to address the elders.

Lan Wangji didn’t answer questions with obvious answers. He'd spent the early morning making sure they were both ready. He'd been unusually gentle in the glittering twilight. He'd kissed, caressed, and made love to every inch of Wei Wuxian's body, even as Wei Wuxian had met him kiss for kiss, thrust for thrust. Then they'd bathed and dressed each other; brushed each other's hair until they both glittered in the morning light. They were as ready as they could ever be. Lan Wangji didn't answer, but held his Wei Ying captive in his supportive gaze instead. He appeared serene, but was the only one that managed. Around them, the rest of the Lans in the courtyard were uncharacteristically tense.

“It’s just a reenactment of an old battle,” Lan Jingyi groused, trying to dispel the melancholy of his fellow Lans. His voice rose above the farewell murmurs as they took their places within the portal boundary. “Be polite and follow the rules. What could go wrong?”

Lan Sizhui just shook his head.

There were reasons to be unsettled. Even beyond the obvious dangers of being in such close proximity to the imperial family and their lapdogs, the warning signs were all around them. The most obvious was that most of the men summoned from across China had notable reputations for some reason or another, and not all of them were good. Some of them were outright… disreputable.

They’d all come regardless.

Even the rich lords and even richer warlords came, because they were all powerful men who had something in common: the intelligence to know that when the Emperor summoned you by name — you fucking showed up.

The consequences of having something to lose and not showing up being what they were, at the appointed time, the Yiling Laozu and the attending GusuLan Sect members left Cloud Recesses by way of a mass portal spell. The distances involved were compelling, but so was the sheer power wielded by the imperials. The Lans received a merest taste when mass-summoned — along with every other participant and their respective parties — across the continent without the slightest hitch. Over a thousand people materialized in the palace courtyard in perfect symmetry and poise.

It was very impressive.

So there had been some warning signs. The second obvious problem was the lack of information about the reenactment itself. That part never seemed to get any better. How could you reenact something without a script or general understanding of your role?

It was a mystery.

The first night in the Imperial Palace — one of several and not even the nicest one — had been a banquet and general introductions, which while grand, were less satisfying than conferences and similar events of days past. Back in Hubei, the clans knew and respected each other. Such gatherings were a place to re-connect, collect gossip, show off their children, and hint at match-making for other people’s children. In the Imperial Palace, however, everyone was a stranger and the powers that be held them all in a tight fist. The celebration was surrounded by armored imperial guards and there was an electric undercurrent of worry. Everyone else noticed the ceremony was strange and lacking in the needful. Whispers abounded, but it seemed no one knew what was coming.

The second night continued the feasting and featured a storytelling session that was supposed to showcase the last great battle of Guandi before he ascended. This was the heart of the ceremony; an appeasement for the god of war. At best, the ceremonial enactment was orchestrated by the immortals and imperials as a gesture of respect to ensure that the mortal realm of China would remain at peace. At worst, it could be seen as an attempt at bribery to keep the god of war out of mortal affairs.

The battle itself was an exciting story, though the storyteller finished quickly because it had been something of a rout. The mortal Guan Yu, later becoming the god Guandi, had split his army into two forces; the first and the last. He’d used ingenious tactics to surround and overwhelm a much larger enemy of ancient China and then ascended to godhood shortly after. It was all rather straightforward, as battles went.

The last night before the ceremony saw the questioning hit a fever pitch. “So are we fighting an actual army or aren’t we?” called one man around a mouthful of char siu. “Is this a real battle? Will you be giving us our weapons back?”

“The ceremonial robes you gave us to wear are thinner than paper! Must we wear that, or can we use our own hanfu?” cried another.

“If no real sword-fighting, then why use cultivators and not actual performers?”

But at no point were questions entertained. Everything would be revealed at the appropriate time — this was how the ceremony was done so stop asking questions! Anyone who dared to ask were ignored, or served more wine in hopes of placating them. Yet another warning sign, but there was nothing that could be done.

-o-o-o-

Finally, the appointed hour arrived.

It was quite the production. There were two hundred men, one hundred to a row, facing each other upon an ornate platform. Chest-high plinths were situated end-to-end like a fence and separated the two groups. The imperial attendants swarmed like ants, directing men up to the platform, consulting slips of paper, and then pointing to this side or that. The participants were lacking in understanding, motivation, and enthusiasm so everything was slow going. It was much like herding cats.

Wei Wuxian raced cat-like up the steps. He paused at the top to show off his ridiculous gossamer clothing to his wary husband, who wasn’t enjoying the chaos in the slightest. “I guess we are wearing this to heaven - ah excuse me - heaven’s waiting room?”

“Mn,” and Lan Wangji stared as Wei Wuxian twirled in a circle.

For a moment all the world seemed to fall away. Lan Wangji’s lips parted. He seemed to oscillate between enthrallment with Wei Wuxian’s playfulness — especially the way the cloth was so sheer that he could see hints of naughty things — and displeasure that the imperial-mandated cloth revealed too much in such a public setting. He finally settled on displeasure; if he could see more than was proprietous, then so could others. It didn’t matter one whit that he was wearing the exact same thing. He wasn’t worried about himself so much, but glanced around to see if anyone else was looking. His twirling, playful husband was on his fabric-wrapped tiptoes now and the answer to that question was yes. Several somebodies were looking at his Wei Ying with appreciative stares. Never mind that said husband was amusing himself in such a way as to gather eyes, however unintentionally. That beautiful face and slender neck and outrageously plush ass belonged to Lan Wangji’s eyes only, but at no point did he demand Wei Wuxian be any less spirited. He simply situated his body protectively between his husband and inappropriate, leering eyes.

Oblivious, Wei Wuxian finally stilled and turned to regard Lan Wangji. “They look nice on you too — just very impractical.” He cocked his head and unabashedly admired his husband’s beautiful body, much as he had been admired. Then he slipped an arm around Lan Wangji’s waist. His hand slipped down and grabbed a handful of ass. “I bet you could rip this right off me with one hand, eh Lan Zhan?”

Lan Wangji side-eyed him.

“Me? Behave?” mouthed Wei Wuxian. “Fine — but only for you!”

Settling, Wei Wuxian was able to glean a little more from listening to the attendant’s whispers and making his own observations. Apparently they were to battle some unseen enemy — he guessed their opponents would be provided by the immortal mansion — because he spotted a number of doctors milling about off stage. They were clearly preparing to treat any number of casualties. This was strong evidence for an actual battle at some point. We will only be gone for a moment, he remembered. We will experience time normally when we arrive in heaven’s mudroom, but when we return it will seem instantaneous to them.

“What will a heavenly mansion be like?” asked Wei Wuxian.

Lan Wangji didn’t know and so didn’t answer. They exchanged glances and Wei Wuxian merely laughed instead. Then they walked together to one of the sides, intent on choosing their own places upon the platform instead of waiting to be assigned. Their fingers entwined as they went. The head attendant was still calling names and lesser attendants were directing the attendees to their places, but Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji tried to choose their own places anyway, because they wanted to stand together. That was when everything went sideways.

“Wrong side,” warned the attendant. He clamped a hand on Wei Wuxian’s arm and forcibly guided Wei Wuxian away from his place beside Lan Wangji. He stationed him on the opposite side instead. “Stand here without moving. The summoning will begin shortly.”

“There’s been a mistake,” said Wei Wuxian, sharing a panicked look with his husband. “We are on the same side.”

“No mistake.”

Lan Wangji loomed tall. Long fingers clenched as if gripping a sword that wasn’t there. Bichen was safely nestled with New Moon across Lan Xichen’s back, awaiting their return in just a few moments — from Xichen’s perspective. Bereft fingers closed into a fist instead, but Lan Wangji’s subtle threats were those of a paper tiger. Eyes of pale gold moved reluctantly from his husband to glare at the attendant, who didn’t seem to notice.

“I’ve shown you to your assigned places,” and the attendant brandished his crumpled papers like a weapon.

“Check again, please — here, let me help!”

The attendant slapped Wei Wuxian’s playful fingers away. “You know your place.”

Wei Wuxian reared back and his eyes flashed. He rubbed his stinging fingers and tried to bully the man instead, because niceness wasn’t getting him anywhere. “Ayah, did you hear me? You’ve made a mistake!  I am supposed to be—”

“Silence down the line!”

Wei Wuxian scowled and snapped his sleeves in protest. Stopping short of a tantrum, he remained apart from Lan Wangji as he must. He winced as the attendant grabbed and then drew a symbol upon the skin of his wrist with black ink, to match the other men in the same line as him. This was fine, except that it was in opposition to Lan Wangji’s own symbol. He didn’t want to be separated in any way from his husband!

Even worse, the symbol stood for ‘Zuihou’ which was an unusual choice. It meant second, with undertones of inferiority. Why would they use such a symbol if the separation was merely for an encircling maneuver? He wrinkled his nose thoughtfully as he considered. Didn’t both parts of the army share in victory? The storyteller didn’t make any negative comments about either force. They were equally important for victory. But the symbol seems to mean that I’m a secondary or less important combatant?

“Second, or as an ending,” recited Wei Wuxian, pronouncing each word slow and separate. Low-key, he was confronting the attendant, even as the man blew upon the ink on his wrist for drying. “But they said we were the conquering army? This was Guandi’s greatest battle? Honor and glory for the war god?”

The attendant didn’t answer.

Wei Wuxian fell into a sullen silence and tugged his wrist back. Pouting, he watched as a different symbol was drawn upon Lan Wangji’s wrist. The characters spelled ‘Zuìchū’ which meant being first, or otherwise superior. What does that mean? He could see Lan Wangji suffered his same confusion. They exchanged glances, sharing their dismay that they would be separated after all. He’d have burst into hysterics, but remembered Lan Xichen’s warning about manners. He represented Lan Wangji and the Lan Clan now, and that meant he wasn’t really at liberty to make a scene. Not when Cloud Recesses would suffer for any of his antics.

Remembering the other Lans, Wei Wuxian hopped back to his tiptoes and then bounced on one foot a few times, searching for white robes and gleaming headpieces. The waiting area wasn’t far away and he could see Lan Xichen and the rest of the Lan Clan under open sky in the distance. He thought to shout and wave at them, but knew in his heart there was nothing they could do.

This was going to suck.

“These seem inadequate for battle,” called a man a few places down. He was massive yet lean, with a trim waist. His name was Tian Shui and he seemed a brute for his great size, though his voice sounded gentle, even distinguished. He was in the Zuìchū line and plucked at his mandated clothing. Across from him, in the other line, his counterpart, named Ling Ping, returned his skeptical look with one of fondness and forbearance. The ceremonial “armor” was merely a suggestion and little more than origami fabric. Even their feet were wrapped up, with no shoes provided or allowed. “Are there spells woven into this?” asked Ling Ping, with an air of critical practicality. “I thought cultivation was forbidden during the battle?”

The explanation for that was in the story. The entire battle had been under a suppression array, so that Guan Yu’s army had to fight without the use of their Qi. They had relied upon only naked swords and their own natural stamina. It was an impressive feat… to anyone who’d lived a soft life, anyway. The assembled men were the exceptions, especially the cultivators of Hubei province. They had lived through the exact same sort of fighting in the burial mounds when Jin Guangyao had finally tipped his hand. Fighting men without cultivation was called sword practice. It was nothing in comparison to fighting the undead or puppets. Every single man selected (with few exceptions) could fight viciously with bare hands if nothing else, but that wasn’t the point. Swords and knives and maybe sabers should be involved for any serious re-enactment of the battle and anything less seemed disrespectful.

It was a solid complaint.

Murmurs filled the air, rising above the flapping of imperial flags in the breeze. “Where are our weapons? How can we fight without swords?”

“I can fetch my own!” offered another man.

There was a clanging of bells as the imperials called for order and silence. “Of course there will be no true fighting,” assured a secondary attendant in the wary quiet that followed. “You are merely actors in a story. You have no need for any weapons!”

“How do we honor the god of war without weapons? How could such a god be satisfied without the sound of blades ringing in victory?!” demanded another man.

This man was a soft noble someone identified as Teng Ju. He had an actual good reputation, except banquet rumors held that Teng Ju had displeased Emperor Xuanzheng in some way. It could’ve been anything. Speaking truth to power was the fastest way, though smiling at the wrong time, or for not long enough was also a thing. But most probably, the insult had been caused by husbanding a prettier wife during some social event. Teng Ju was certainly unhappy to be wearing the exact same paper-thin clothing as the rest and especially irked to be in the second or “last” group with the strangely negative connotation.

“Weapons and armor will be provided by the hosting immortal when you are summoned to the mansion’s mortal antechamber,” called another attendant. He was of equal rank to the secondary and pronounced the last word in the same tones one would describe the spot dirty shoes were deposited while visiting an important person.

How encouraging, thought Wei Wuxian, cocking a brow.

“So there will be weapons?” demanded the first man, sounding skeptical and on the verge of outrage. “Then why did you say we didn’t need them?”

Alright, now that did seem completely contradictory. Hundreds of heads turned and the murmuring grew louder. The two attendants glared murderously at each other, but the first attendant seemed a faster wit. He chastised the lesser attendants for causing confusion. Then he clarified that they didn’t need weapons until they reached the immortal mansion — where they would be properly outfitted.

“The god of war will be pleased with your efforts,” assured the head attendant in the same tone one would comfort a child worried about playing dizi on stage. He made it sound as if just being there was good enough.

Wei Wuxian frowned at the floor, doodling invisible insults on the tiles with his fabric-wrapped toe. But how could that be when we don’t understand what exactly is expected of us? He gnawed on his lip and fidgeted with the rest of them. I wish Lan Zhan hadn’t volunteered for this, he kept thinking. I wish he was safely back with the other Lans. He glanced up at Lan Wangji and realized they were sharing the same wish.

A little down the row, Tian Shui kept glancing at Ling Ping, hesitantly so. Tian Shui had the look of a man with confessions to make, but apparently he feared the outcome too much to take the risk. His fingers flexed at his sides, as if he wished to entwine their hands, but Ling Ping seemed oblivious to his attentions. A little further down, Teng Ju was wringing his hands.

Tensions mounted.

Wei Wuxian wasn’t worried about himself, not so much. His demonic cultivation was high enough that he was certain he could handle whatever was coming. But one detail stuck out above all others. It nibbled at the edges of his mind until it became foremost of his worries; a suspicion regarding reputation. He’d been considered the worst of the worst at one time, but now held a redeemed reputation — rekindled from the char of his old life. But a number of the men selected to participate alongside him were little better than bandits. Also, there were a high number of rogue cultivators with no sect or clan affiliation. That meant they had no one to speak for them or seek revenge if something went wrong. He had to consider that the imperials would see such men as expendable.

The moth-eaten scroll with the symbol for ‘bloodbath’ kept popping up in his mind. They wouldn’t actually dare, would they?

Wei Wuxian caught Lan Wangji’s eye. “I wish you hadn’t stepped into this,” he whispered. He would have preferred his husband stay safely out of whatever the hell was going to happen.

“I go with Wei Ying,” was his only response.

-o-o-o-

It was time.

Wei Wuxian hesitated, sighed, and then held out his hands in a respectful gesture as instructed by the imperials. Across from him, Lan Wangji did the same. So did the other men, seeming every bit as uneasy. Nervous murmurs and shuffling feet filled the hall.

Teng Ju, who had no combat training whatsoever, just set his teeth and prepared to endure whatever was coming. But even after years of social training, he couldn't hide his fretful fidgeting.

At the same time, Tian Shui and Ling Ping finally shared a glance, in a camaraderie sort of way, a gaze that Ling Ping broke first. Tian Shui loomed and lingered, but that seemed a rather one-sided thing. Wei Wuxian noted all of this in an offhanded sort of way. He perceived that they were probably cultivation partners, or at least good friends, because they seemed to prepare together for whatever was coming, much like he and Lan Wangji. At the corner of his eye, he saw them gesture at each other, seeming to have a similar pact to stay together.

It was neither here nor there, and in the excitement Wei Wuxian quickly forgot the names of the other men, or even that they existed as the imperial sorcerers began their spellcasting. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji locked eyes and held each other’s gaze. Lan Wangji’s eyes flashed, but he otherwise stood with such serenity it seemed as if he was carved from marble, which Wei Wuxian found reassuring, even though he knew it wasn’t true. They had expected to be staying together and this result was very disappointing for them both.

Wei Wuxian took a breath and forced himself to relax. He composed his expression with a shake and then sought out his husband’s gaze. Don’t worry about me, said the look in his eyes. We’ve seen worse and everything will be okay. They had been married for several years and were proficient at nonverbal communication. Wei Wuxian looked up, smiled fiercely as if threatening heaven itself, and then ducked his head.

Lan Wangji inclined his head ever so slightly.

It was good enough, because it had to be. And so Wei Wuxian braced himself and met Lan Wangji’s eyes, but the worry he saw there had him mouthing words again. No matter what happens, we’ll protect each other.

He had felt reasonably confident he and his big cabbage could handle anything…

…but he was wrong.

Chapter Text

The summons to heaven’s broom closet presented as a roar of heatless flames.

They surged over the assembled men and their respectful gestures. The flames engulfed everyone in a massive teleportation spell. Mass confusion struck when they materialized not upon an immortal mansion in the heavenly realm, but deep within the depths of some rocky subterranean chamber.

“Where are we?!” shouted Teng Ju.

The surrounding air smelled fusty, like an ossuary. Nervous murmurs echoed up the massive cavern walls. They bounced off the stalagmite-crusted ceiling, only to return forlornly to their ears. At the same time, the symbols on the participant’s wrists glowed white and brightened as if under inspection. It was their only source of light; just enough that the men could see each other’s frightened eyes.

“This isn’t heaven,” announced Wei Wuxian, needlessly so.

Lan Wangji stepped close and loomed protectively over Wei Wuxian. “Stay together,” said Wangji, more an order than a reminder. The two of them did exactly that as they inspected their symbols. They shared a single frown when, ebbing like an ember, the glow began to fade. Around them, the cries became terrified. Darkness began to encroach… and then something peculiar happened. The symbol on the wrists of the Zuìchū changed color. They seethed a deep red before burning out, and Wei Wuxian instinctively looked up into Lan Wangji’s face as the light began to fade.

Their eyes met.

Lan Wangji seemed on the verge of speaking, perhaps something reassuring. But as the light went out, something within Lan Wangji’s eyes faded with it. With the last glimmer Wei Wuxian saw his husband’s eyes go wild and his lips curl into a feral snarl… and then the darkness killed the light.

“Lan Zhan?”

A sudden explosion of screaming voices drowned Wei Wuxian’s worried cry. He reached out to grab his husband’s arm, but the space where he’d been was empty. There was a gust of wind around him, as if the stagnant air was disturbed by an explosion of human-borne movement.

Something’s wrong.

The sheer uproar had Wei Wuxian staggering back a step. Instinctively, he tried to use a strip of clothing as a light talisman. He wasn’t the only one attempting to summon light, but all forms of cultivation were being suppressed. His talisman failed to respond as if they were beneath a powerful suppression array emanating from within the rock of the ceiling. He had the sense that this was a well-constructed cage, tried and true. Alarmed, he turned in a circle, quickly becoming disoriented. He rubbed at his eyes, but couldn’t see his hands in front of his face. Someone’s hand swiped along his waist in the blackness. He jumped back for the meaty thwack of bodies colliding and struggling all around him.

Aggressions were escalating moment by moment.

Chaos ensued.

Wei Wuxian gave up on cultivation entirely. “Lan Zhan? Lan Zhan!” he shouted instead, shrieking to be heard over the uproar. “Where are you? Lan Zhan?!”

Turning in circles, Wei Wuxian was unsure where to go or what to do. “It’s too dark!” and in the back of his mind, he grew aware of a smell that burned his nose and disturbed him in strange ways. It was emanating from the mass of men and filling the air. Otherwise, Wei Wuxian felt no different. He couldn’t make sense of what was happening. “Why are we fighting each other — stop fighting!” and he wasn’t alone in his confusion.

Across the cavern, other men amidst the carnage were shouting the same sort of things; “why are we doing this?!” and “can’t we talk things out?!” but of course no one listened.

It’s like half of us have gone insane, and that thought was followed by a much worse one. What if Lan Zhan is being killed right next to me?!  Then again, knowing his husband, surely it was Lan Wangji who would be doing the killing. Wei Wuxian had complete faith in his husband’s ability to defend himself, even if he was dead-ass-drunk or barely conscious.

But still!

Wei Wuxian felt beads of sweat form on his brow. His hands shook. He kept screaming “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan!” because it was too dark to see anything. When no answer came, he became desperate. He began slapping around like a blinded man trying to escape a fire. His fingers encountered someone’s round belly. The man was snuffling and snorting while trying to drag a protesting man out of the crowd.

That was definitely not his husband!

Even worse, Wei Wuxian heard bodies thrashing with killing intent all around him. Some of the screaming sounded pained, panicked, and desperate. People were crying for help amidst inhuman snarls from very human throats.

Wei Wuxian couldn’t help them. He couldn’t even help himself — but his husband came first. Frantically he grabbed people in the dark and shouted “Lan Zhan!” in their faces. He wrestled and fumbled with them, trying to recognize Lan Wangji in the dark. He shoved them rudely aside when they weren’t him. None of the men around him were his husband, and that was starting to turn his mind inside out. Stumbling, he lost his footing amidst a smattering of large stones. He crashed to the ground and skinned both knees and leapt back up again.

“Lan Zhan!”  

Men were surging and brawling all around him. Some of them were moving as if frenzied, falling over rocks as they fought, barely missing him. Wei Wuxian kept stubbing his toes and scratching his legs on rocks scattered in the dark. The wrappings on his feet were already shredding and peeling away. Hindrances forced him to slow down and stay on the tip of his toes, reacting quickly to touch and nimbly slipping away from grasping hands, but the crowd jostled him right and left regardless.

“Lan Zhan!”  

Someone tried to grab him.

“Get off!” shouted Wei Wuxian, but the sound of his voice seemed to make things worse. Several men in the dark broke off to face him — he sensed strange intentions from them. Thankfully his cry was lost in the pandemonium. Those men lost him in the dark, losing interest just as fast, except for the man who’d already taken hold of him. That man was trying to press his face into Wei Wuxian’s slim neck. His snuffling turned into fevered gasping, his tongue slithering and lapping over prickling skin. He even tried to suck on Wei Wuxian’s throat. Bewildered, Wei Wuxian yelped and punched the man in the face. He struggled out of the man’s grasp with a grimace, only to stumble into another mass of writhing bodies.

Someone bit his arm!

The mouth was broad with bad breath — definitely not Lan Wangji! He punched the stranger with force and knocked him back, only to be struck in turn. Thrown aside, he slid down someone’s bare, sweaty back. He landed on his pretty ass on the gritty sand floor.

It wasn’t tolerable.

Wei Wuxian stayed down and shouted for Lan Wangji again. He shouted every single name his big beautiful cabbage belonged to, but there was no answer. He couldn’t find him. There is no way I can find him in this disaster in the dark!

Horror filled his heart.

Wei Wuxian couldn’t get his talisman to work, but he could force a corpse light to brighten the darkness. The cave was old and had likely hosted the last “enactment” some centuries ago. There was enough resentment seeped into the rocks to be useful. Not much, but just enough for his purposes. He knew his way around suppression arrays when using resentment in tiny amounts, enough to sneak under the lines. All I need is a little light... he had to know if Lan Wangji was alright. He ripped a strip of his clothing and bit his finger, but hesitated. I’m forbidden from using talismans, spiritual energy, or resentment, he remembered.

Nothing that required Qi.

In fact, Qi usage of any kind was prohibited in the ceremonial battle. They were meant to re-enact a great battle without cultivation of any type, using only their natural strength just like the storyteller had described. That explained the suppression array — but nothing else.

They warned us against using energy. But surely something as minor as a corpse light doesn’t count? And where even are we? Did the teleportation spell go wrong? Did it cause some of us to go mad? I have to find Lan Zhan and I need light to do it. This is the only way — fuck them all!  

Wei Wuxian feverishly whistled his corpse light into existence. Then he leapt back to his feet and pointed high into the air. Greenish flames burst from the ceiling of the cavern and as he expected, the suppression array didn't react to something so minor. Eerie illumination added sight to sound; revealing a mass of thrashing human bodies like something out of a nightmare.

A familiar nightmare.

Roughly half of the men had maddened expressions. They were fighting everyone around them. Lacking all sense, they snarled and snapped like ravening wolves. Panting as they fought, every inhale seemed to spur them onward in their madness. These men had the Zuìchū symbol and they seemed somehow stronger than they should be, as if empowered or changed by demonic energy. The sounds they made were inhuman and their behavior, even worse.

The other half was Zuihou. This was the group that Wei Wuxian belonged to. They were behaving normally while facing a slaughter of this magnitude; screaming for help, shouting commands no one could hear, and struggling to escape into the darkness. Some of them were being dragged away, deeper into the cavern, beyond the reach of the corpse light, their voices growing fainter in the dark.

There were no weapons.

Those who weren’t fleeing were using hands and teeth to kill each other. It reminded Wei Wuxian of the battle of Nightless City, back when he’d sent legions of zombies against the remnants of the Wen army. The sights, sounds, and smells were much the same, except these were madmen tearing each other apart.

Only a few seconds passed after Wei Wuxian cast the corpse light, but it felt like an eternity. Already there were casualties, building resentment. Men were dead and dying on the floor. He could hear them struggling and flailing and bleeding out from blunt or tearing wounds. He’d have brought some of them back to life already for protection — they were primed to be fierce corpses — except for the suppression array, which would interfere with something so powerful as necromantic resurrection. On a more practical level, based on painful experience, he had no idea what was happening. Adding fierce corpses to the chaos might be a dangerous mistake.

Where is Lan Zhan?

Wei Wuxian twirled in place, looking frantically for his husband. Lan Zhan was right next to me! Where is he now? Is he hurt?! Does he need my help?!  At first he had no luck. Everyone was wearing the exact same clothes and there were too many thrashing bodies to pick his husband out of the crowd. He was there, though. What if Lan Zhan is one of the feral ones?!

Leaping up on a boulder, Wei Wuxian scanned the crowd and then his heart leapt. “Lan Zhan!” and he was relieved to spot Lan Wangji at the edge of the seething mass. As suspected, his husband was very much part of the problem. He was easily dominating the men around him, standing taller as a god amidst lesser beings. Several were dying at his feet and his fingers were clamped deeply into the neck of another man — in the midst of crushing his windpipe. His clothing was blood-soaked and mangled, leaving him nearly nude. His expression was fierce and fearless.

There wasn’t a scratch on him.

Wei Wuxian gasped for the sheer wrongness of what he was seeing. Lan Wangji's expression was frightening. His husband would never behave so unhinged, unless he was given permission. Wei Wuxian had only ever seen hints of the hyper-aggression on display during some of their more rambunctious attempts at role-playing actual ravishing, but never, ever, like this. Never so serious and utterly uncontrolled.

Wei Wuxian swallowed, taken aback. And then, above the bloodbath, over his husband's head and carved upon the gray stone wall, he saw a massive inscription made by inhuman hands. It greeted the new arrivals and continued down the wall in spiralling symbols. He saw only a few signs, gleaned only a few details. His mouth dropped in shock as, seconds later, his corpse light was snuffed out. It felt longer, but the time between forcing the light and seeing it extinguished took less than a minute; the exact amount of time needed for whomever was watching to cast the demonic spell that restored the chaotic darkness.

The suppression array flickered as it was adjusted.

Frightened, Wei Wuxian stumbled off the boulder. He raced towards his husband’s last position, reeling for the revelation. There was no mistake. We are supposed to be here. Everything that’s happened was planned and we were right to be suspicious. The imperials and immortals have delivered us into evil hands!

The blackness was intentional and would be maintained.

Even worse, Wei Wuxian was wrong about minor resentment spells. The warning against cultivation of any type was very much in play. Spiritual, demonic, even talismans, it was all the same. No Qi meant no Qi — with no exceptions.

Punishment from whoever was controlling and enjoying the spectacle came instantly thereafter. It took the form of an obsidian-tinted lightening that roared down as a bolt from above. It struck Wei Wuxian to the ground in a blow so painful it knocked him right out.

Thus ended Wei Wuxian’s first day in hell.

-o-o-o-

When Wei Wuxian awoke from his punishment, the first thing he felt was pain. He was face-down and his nose was bloody. His mouth was full of sand. His eyes opened and closed uselessly as he pushed up off the ground and spat out a mouthful of grit. There’s no difference between open or closed! At first he thought he’d been struck blind. Panicking, he fell back onto his plush ass and scratched at his face.

Can’t see my fingers!

“Lan Zhan!” and Wei Wuxian screamed for his husband in the void.

No response.

Then Wei Wuxian remembered where he was. The demon caverns, and he reasoned himself back to rationality. There’s no light underground, so of course I can’t see anything. Doesn’t mean I’m blind. The next thing he realized was his legs were sprawled over soft lumpy things. He extracted himself from the surrounding bodies and crawled to a clean place. He resisted the urge to collapse. He sat up instead and rubbed at his pounding head.

“Ai-yah,” he moaned, reaching up past his face.

The punishing bolt had struck the top of his head and burned through to his feet. Everything hurt in strange pulses. Gingerly, he investigated the small burn at the top of his head and then traced the winding electric sting down his body. He ended at the pads of his feet, which really hurt.

All this for such a little bit of light? 

Wei Wuxian rubbed his feet, shocked. This sort of punishment reminded him of Madam Yu’s more memorable tantrums. It felt like a profound overreaction that meant something ominous; an opening volley that would escalate exponentially. The worst part was that he had no idea who had even punished him. He had no idea what the enemy even looked like, which meant he would have to keep his eyes open — ha! — for any opportunity. Wincing, he took the warning to heart and resigned himself to mundane means. That also meant he should really stop screaming out into the darkness. Are there demons out there? Hiding in the dark?  He hoped so, because that meant it was possible to fight them. Otherwise, the people trapped here with him were acting demonic enough to count.

I miss Chenqing already. It was neither here nor there, because his ghost flute wasn’t here. It wasn’t like he could have used it regardless. I can still fight well enough, even without resentment or talismans. It’s just that discretion is going to be the better part of valour down here. He would try to avoid a fight if at all possible.

At least everyone else is blind, too.

From what Wei Wuxian remembered, and especially from the sound of things, only the Zuìchū had gone feral. They remained a constant threat in the dark, especially to a mundane man without the passive benefits of a golden core… and honestly he’d been real lucky. He’d collapsed amidst a larger fight. Things could have gone badly, but fate had been merciful. Lying there motionless, he’d blended in with the corpses and so remained untouched. It was likely the forced nap had saved his life.

Beneath the pain, Wei Wuxian felt an electric prickle of fear crawl up his spine. He’d been disadvantaged like this before during the first few weeks of his captivity in the Burial Mounds. That was one hell of a bad memory. It’s darker here, but at least my back isn’t shattered and he consoled himself that things could be worse.

Cocking his head, Wei Wuxian could still hear fighting in the distance. He paused, concentrating on the sounds, hoping to hear some trace of Lan Wangji. He could tell the “battle” had spread out to the outer tunnels. Sounds of human struggle and piteous wails were fewer, but what remained pierced the tunnels from all sides.

Lan Wangji’s deep voice wasn’t among them.

Fighting back disappointment, Wei Wuxian forced himself to focus, because the fighting had changed. He remembered how the corpse light had revealed a bloodbath on all sides. The first outburst of fighting had seemed unrestrained, but now things sounded different. More subdued, somehow. Less lethal, but way more personal.

They aren’t attacking any of the men from my group anymore, he realized after listening to the sounds in the distance. It was easy to differentiate between the two groups. Anyone who could scream intelligently was Zuihou, and those voices he picked out in the dark. Anything animalistic was Zuìchū and none of them screamed or cried. Their sounds were brash and aggressive.

It’s the Zuìchū who are still attacking and killing each other. He rested his elbows on his thighs while listening, trying to make sense of what was happening. They aren’t killing any men who have the Zuihou symbol on their wrists. They are trying to drag them away instead.

His group of Zuihou had kept their minds, for all the good it did them. Their screams for help stimulated him. He wanted to help, but the darkness hindered such efforts. He knew better than to force another corpse light. At least the fighting is winding down. The others are spreading out and hiding themselves until this nightmare is over. Then he remembered the writing on the wall. His heart sank. If I understood the symbols right, this isn’t some play for an immortal’s celebration. It’s an appeasement offering for demons, so to mollify them. We are being sacrificed as entertainment for evil beings to stave off something even worse!

I have to find Lan Zhan!

Wei Wuxian leapt to his feet and then yelped. He tumbled back down to the ground, scattering pebbles in all directions. He’d already forgotten his wounds. Wincing, he tore apart more of his otherwise useless, gauzy robes and re-wrapped his burned feet. The wounds were small round circles, but they really hurt. Especially when he put weight on them. He imagined they were meant as a constant reminder.

The next punishment would be worse.

-o-o-o-

Limping and hissing, Wei Wuxian took up the search for Lan Wangji with renewed urgency. Several stubbed toes, cracked fingernails, and numerous scrapes later, he was finally forced to face the truth; the search for his husband was going to be desperately slow.

Especially if Lan Wangji was staying on the move.

Wei Wuxian was already sick and tired of the darkness. He punched a rock in frustration, hissed “Ay-yi!” and sucked on his knuckles. He ended up crouching down and using his hands to feel out his path, moving slowly for his injuries. The dark was too disorienting to just run around without a method. His poor knees were a bloody mess.

That wasn’t the only thing.

Even though it was pitch-black, his senses were under assault, specifically his sense of smell. The air was thick with scent, beyond the customary stench of battle. Normally these things didn’t bother him, but right now his sensitivity seemed heightened. “That makes sense, because there’s nothing else to rely on,” he muttered, then tapped his lips in warning. The normal battle smells he ignored, but beneath the stench of death was a cloying scent, more compelling than any other. He sniffed around to find where it was coming from. Nose wrinkling, he recoiled, surprised.

He was the source of that scent!

Wei Wuxian ran a hand along his upper neck. There were bumps under his fingers where before had been smoothness. He paused, feeling the slightest hint of glands beneath the skin of his throat. Stickiness gathered on his fingers. This was the same place his attacker had sucked on.

It can’t be coincidence.

Seems like the Zuìchū group weren’t the only ones enspelled and changed and the thought had Wei Wuxian frowning in the dark. Thoughtlessly he sniffed his sticky fingers and then shrank back. His scent was more properly termed a musk — to his perception at least. He tried rubbing his fingers clean on his clothes, but the scent clung to his skin.

Aaaaand now his clothes smelled, too. “Well, good,” he announced, under his breath. “Great. That’s just — just great,” and he scowled down at his sore, misbehaving body. He wasn’t sure what it meant to stink so badly in the dark, but knew it couldn’t be good.

Lots of things weren’t good.

Especially this damned cavern, which felt like cold granite under his curious fingers. The sheer presence of the stone above his head felt ominous. He’d been in caves before, but this seemed different. Heavier. He could feel the weight of the world pressing down on him, as if he was miles underground with no escape.

There was nothing around Wei Wuxian other than stale air and granite. Well… stale air, granite, and corpses. Most of the bodies slumped over the floor were dead, but a few still breathed. Those he took care to avoid.

The first person Wei Wuxian encountered he’d tried to help, because that was what people normally did during disasters — help each other. He even ripped up some of his rapidly-vanishing clothing into strips to use as bandages. But when he approached the huffing, groaning man and tried to whisper comforts and tend him, he was slapped at and nearly bitten. Some men were honestly feral, or otherwise feared hands in the dark. It was impossible to tell who was safe to approach and who wasn’t. For his own safety, Wei Wuxian avoided them after that. Not only because it was dangerous, but also because there was nothing he could really do for them.

All anyone possessed were the robes on their bodies and a powerful reek — nothing more. No food, no water, and certainly no medicine. That was bad enough, but the lack of medical cultivation was the last nail in the coffin for the severely wounded. There was truly nothing to be done.

Avoiding injury was critical now, and anyways, Wei Wuxian’s first priority was finding Lan Wangji. If his husband had fallen in the chaos, if he was already dead — which he most certainly isn’t  he thought ferociously — then nothing mattered anymore.

He might as well lie down and die with his husband.

I can’t live without my heart.

-o-o-o-

The hunt for Lan Wangji was slow going.

As Wei Wuxian winced his way across the cavern, he paused to call a soft “Lan Zhan!” every few paces. It was a compromise between whispering and shouting, because otherwise he didn’t want to bring attention to himself.

Unlike the others in his Zuihou group, Wei Wuxian hadn’t fled willy-nilly into the dark. Hours after waking, he was still feeling his way around, calling softly for his missing husband. His hunting grew bolder as he acclimated to his hurts and even forgot them. He crept around the main tunnel like a thief, wandering the stony passages where they’d been dumped by the immortals to entertain demonic beings.

It made Wei Wuxian queasy to know he was being watched by godlike monsters. That what was happening was a tribute of entertainment. He hadn’t missed the significance of no airflow and not even the slightest hint of light. That meant there was no cave mouth, or exit to the surface, which made perfect sense. There is no escaping this scenario until whoever is holding us captive is done with us. He wished he’d kept Lan Wangji from coming… somehow. There was no possible way he could have managed that, but still wished his husband had been spared this horror.

The darkness was oppressive.

“Aiyah,” cried Wei Wuxian when his knee met another rock.

As fast as that, he was bleeding again. The waist-high rocks and loose pebbles weren’t really at fault. They weren’t that sharp. Most of them were smooth and round as if they’d been polished by rushing water for eons of time. It was just he’d been too careless with himself in his rush to find Lan Wangji.

“Waaah,” he whined and pouted, rocking back and forth dramatically. It was way less satisfying without a husband to comfort him.  

I need to bandage all these scrapes, and Wei Wuxian had no sooner finished the thought when his belly gurgled. He pressed the heel of his palm against his smooth stomach and licked his dry lips. He was hungry and thirsty. It was unfortunate he didn’t have anything with him. Still, he needed to take care of himself as much as possible so that when he found Lan Wangji he would be useful instead of a liability. Take care of yourself before you become useless.

Taking a break, Wei Wuxian settled down on a rock. He ripped the strips of fabric he’d collected in the cavern into usable lengths. Casualties of the fighting, they worked well to wrap up his various cuts. The rest he used to reinforce the wrappings on his feet. As he worked, something minor that had been lurking at the back of his mind finally surfaced. It had been bothering him since waking, but wasn’t worth the distraction. Now that he was seated and focused on caring for himself, there was no ignoring it anymore.

I’m not the only one who stinks.

Everyone around Wei Wuxian had a strong smell too. He’d smelled the Zuìchū group within moments of being dumped in the cavern. Their smell was doing something to the back of his nose and mouth. It penetrated to his hindbrain and he was only now starting to realize the significance. Even now, he could smell them; the scent of the Zuìchū was heavy in the air around him. Standing, he followed the scent and traced it back to a nearby stone. Creeping close, he pressed his nose against the granite, trying to make sense of the smell and what it was doing to him.

Wei Wuxian didn’t like the scent so much, but it was strangely compelling. Curious, he pressed closer and breathed in deep, breath after breath. The affect became enhanced the more he inhaled. The stings from his cuts added to the sensation and honed his interest. Within moments he felt drunk and out of control, pleasantly so. Breath after breath, it was like he was drinking a potent wine and his mind began to reel…

The light was dimmed, low and intimate.

Lan Zhan had pulled Wei Ying into his lap at first for some unusually fierce kisses, then whirled and pinned him to the bed, his arms clenching tightly. His control over his strength was absolute, so the harsher edge was intentional. Come to think of it, he’d been a little brisk for much of the day. There could only be one reason.

Wei Ying’s eyes widened. “You’re still mad about the merchant today? He was just being friendly — I shared the extra dumplings with you!”

Lan Zhan’s eyes narrowed slightly. His beautiful eyes gleamed in the lantern-light. He didn’t answer, but nipped at Wei Ying’s jaw instead, grazing the skin. It felt good, but was as much a confirmation as Wei Ying was going to get.

“I only want you — only ever you,” whispered Wei Ying, voice soft as honey. He pressed kiss after kiss into Lan Zhan’s mouth as if to prove it.

This was a very normal part of their love language. They’d suffered so much pain and misery in their lives. The downward spiral and the long separation had left deep wounds, so it was no wonder they’d be so needy as to seek constant reassurance from each other. Sometimes it was Wei Ying’s abandonment issues and terrible lack of self-worth to the point of self-loathing that left him needing to hear he was accepted, wanted, loved… even many times a day.

But sometimes it was Lan Zhan who needed reassurance, though his issues were borne of a different kind of suffering; parental neglect reinforced by systemic suppression and repression. Touch starvation from being adrift in an ocean of emotionally stunted, affection-adverse and punishment-loving Lans had left a deep mark.

Trauma was a twisted, lasting thing.

They both had their particularities; Wei Ying was intolerant of long silences and terrified of dogs, while Lan Zhan struggled to speak more than a few phrases at a time and harbored a jealous streak that left him possessive to a fault. Their second chance at life together had them cleaving tightly to each other, rarely parting for more than a few days. They’d created a whole new life from the shattered shards of their previous existence; a brighter, happier one. It helped that they were so understanding and considerate of each other’s sufferings, such that providing reassurance had become a marital duty unto itself. That didn’t keep Wei Ying from teasing his husband, though.

Wei Ying laughed, rocking back. “You are the most jealous man I know!”

“Then you know other men?” asked Lan Zhan, with an edge in his voice, but the faintest hint of a smile in his eyes.

Wei Ying gasped for the rare jest, choked on his own saliva, and nearly died laughing right there. His husband didn’t make jokes, so when they happened the moment was to be savored. After regaining his wind, he devoted himself to assuring Lan Zhan there was no other before him, nor ever would there be. There was no talking after that, not for a long time.

“If I give you a list, would you kill them for me?” murmured Wei Ying, later that night. He was kidding, because there was no list and they both knew it. It was a funny thought and so he was sharing it; spouting nonsense as was his wont.

“Mn,” said Lan Zhan agreeably, both hands cupping creamy ass. They were tucked under the blanket, nearly asleep when a sleepy Wei Ying had brought up other men again, which was something of a mistake. Because a moment later Lan Zhan flipped Wei Ying and pinned him there, the blankets settling over them completely.

“Names.”

“No other men!” squealed Wei Ying into the pillow, only now realizing his mistake. Several years of marriage and he still managed to dig his own grave like this. “Only you!”

“Mn,” said Lan Zhan, and then made sure of it.

There was no way Wei Ying’s ass could survive another man. Not after Lan Zhan was done with him… not that Wei Ying had any complaints that he actually meant. And Wei Ying had already been fucked open, so the next round was especially good. He was slick and wet and the first thrust into his belly warmed him. The next set a fire and soon his nerves were glowing like fireflies...

A familiar sensation finally pulled him back. Deeply aroused and alarmed for the thrumming in his blood and the heat between his legs, Wei Wuxian scuttled back and away from the strong scent. The sensation he was fleeing from was familiar, because it was something he felt almost ‘every day’ with Lan Wangji. Something was trickling down his thigh.

He was dripping.

“Wha?”

He was dripping from his neck and especially from his backside. Even worse, his tattered robe had outrageous wet patches in scandalous places. That would have been embarrassing if anyone could see him, or the huge flush that ruddied his face. This had only ever happened after hours of passion with Lan Wangji, when he was loose and trembling, having reached the end of his endurance. Normally any dripping would be his husband’s fault and responsibility, but he knew that wasn’t the case. Nothing had happened while he was unconscious.

The slick was coming from him.

And now he could really smell himself. If the smell of those… Zuìchū affects me so badly, does my scent affect them the same way? Is that why they keep trying to drag me away? To do bad things to me, because I smell good to them? Because I smell like wine or…

Sex.

Wei Wuxian broke out into a cold sweat. Fear doused the last of his arousal, though only because he'd pulled away from the scent in time. He remembered some of the cries for help from the other Zuihou in a new light. His hands shook and he shrank into a ball. He didn’t want strangers to do bad things to him. He only wanted Lan Zhan to drag him away and do bad things to him — exactly as they both knew they liked. Because the naughty things Lan Zhan did — well he wanted those, because it was Lan Zhan. He’d only ever wanted Lan Zhan like that. He’d kill anyone else who tried to really hurt him in such a way, but now it seemed he was surrounded by men who wanted to do… exactly that. Would he even struggle, if they caught him in such a state? That he couldn't be sure was horrifying and that he was a mundane man facing such peril, even more so.

I have to find Lan Zhan!

It was like a mantra. The fighting had really died down by this point and so Wei Wuxian did the natural thing, which was to start shouting. “Lan Zhan! Lan Zhaaaan!” he howled into the dark while fumbling around. Everything will be alright as soon as I find Lan Zhan. We’ll figure some way out of this hell hole together.

Wei Wuxian’s voice pierced the darkness again and again, echoing into countless side-passages off the main cavern. He’d been careful before, but his impulsive side momentarily took over… and of course it was a mistake.

Wei Wuxian couldn’t see, but sensed he’d caught someone’s attention. Apparently several somebodies. He tensed to hear several bodies leap up from a resting position at the sound of his voice. He heard them scatter stones while charging his direction at speed. They struggled in the darkness as much as he did, but seemed determined to reach him regardless. He could hear the thumping footsteps and their panting breaths and angry grunts as they hurt themselves while hurtling towards him from different directions.

Could one of them be Lan Zhan?

It was impossible to tell. “Lan Zhan?” he cried, nervously. “Where are you? Can you hear me? Lan Zhan, Lan Wangji, Er-gege!” and he snuffled, “Er-gege — answer me please! I really need you right now!” and he knew he was begging, but he didn’t care. At least, he didn’t care until the consequences of his actions arrived moments later.

So apparently the Zuìchū were insane.

They came hurtling through the dark toward Wei Wuxian, faster and faster as they grew near. He finally shut the hell up and stumbled back, but accidentally scattered pebbles in the darkness. He made out three different men, each approaching from a different direction, and then they heard the pebbles. Then the three Zuìchū pounced at him.

Wei Wuxian leapt over the first one. Whirling, he kicked that one in the back, certain that he wasn’t Lan Wangji, because he was breathing too heavy. His regal Hanguang-Jun would never sound like a winded animal. The other two whirled towards the sound of his feet as he landed. They reoriented in the dark and pounced again.

“You three are really too much!” cried Wei Wuxian, adding “Where are your manners?” but then stopped talking when it seemed his voice was stimulating them.

Fighting them with hands and feet, Wei Wuxian momentarily incapacitated one, even as the other two rallied. They have a muted response to pain, he realized while twisting back the arm of one. Normally that would make a man stumble or fall to his knees, but the man did nothing of the sort. Either they didn’t feel pain, or Wei Wuxian was too much of a prize to allow for petty concerns like twisted arms.

And so Wei Wuxian found himself hard-pressed to stay ahead of them. None of them had weapons, but he knew that was intentional. Hand-to-hand should be very entertaining; watching men scrabble around in the dirt and… and… hurt each other in horrible ways would surely please whatever god-demons were watching.

That suggested the cruelty was the point.

Wei Wuxian handled the next two, but the first rallied unusually fast. Wei Wuxian felt the man grab hold and slip his arms around his chest, trapping Wei Wuxian’s arms to his sides. The man sucked in a breath, crushing his face into Wei Wuxian’s neck. He seemed to like the scent. Panicking, Wei Wuxian struggled to free himself. The voice in the back of his mind was screaming and he was further horrified to realize the haze was slowly returning the longer the man held him. The scent was infecting him, making him slick. How long until he stopped resisting and succumbed to a fever dream? What would happen when he woke trapped in some hole somewhere? He remembered the first time this happened, how that man had tried to drag him away.

Sure enough, this Zuìchū tried to run away with him, too.

Snagging a rock with his legs, Wei Wuxian managed to slow his abductor down, even as the other two roared after them. They seemed heedless of being knocked up against the surrounding rocks. It was as if their focus had narrowed down solely to him. The strange thing was that the three men weren’t treating Wei Wuxian like they did each other. They fought viciously with each other, but otherwise handled him with care. They were each — separately and in opposition of each other — trying to take him to a secondary location, not destroy him.

It felt like a horrible confirmation of his worst fears.

The dark was making things difficult for everyone. Amidst the wrestling match, further away down a nearby tunnel, Wei Wuxian heard a man began to shout for help. He was being overwhelmed in much the same way, but the sound of his voice speaking words excited the three Zuìchū.

Two of them broke away. They hurtled towards the sound. It seemed as if the shouts were too irresistible to ignore once Wei Wuxian had fallen quiet. Intelligent sounds attract them and he squirrelled that information away for later consideration.

Wei Wuxian managed to throw the third man and slink away, but not before kicking him in the ass in retaliation for the new scratches, bruises, and love-bite marks he’d gathered in the fight. No one but Lan Wangji was allowed to bite him, thank you very much!

That should have been a big enough warning for Wei Wuxian to take heed and shut the hell up, but he was nothing if not stubborn, tenacious, and at times foolish. If he just shouted loud enough surely Lan Wangji would hear him? There was a time for caution and a time to go all out. His impatient heart was certain that right now he needed to find his big cabbage by any means necessary — he’d deal with the consequences later.

He was so terribly worried. “Lan Zhan!” he shouted again. More reaction, this time from multiple tunnels. Oh heavens, that’s a lot of bad men headed my way!

He fled and hid behind an outcropping of rock before they found him. I have to be patient and stop making noise and the realization made him anxious. Being patient and especially not making noise wasn’t something he was good at.

Fate ended up taking responsibility.

A group of battling Zuìchū were straight ahead. This was a group that had lost track of Wei Wuxian’s position in the dark and turned on each other instead. Now they were making various angry sounds while grappling with each other. The loudest one seemed to be losing ground, but that wasn’t what caught his attention. There was a hint of sandalwood, the first trace of his husband since the demons had murdered the light.

Wei Wuxian shouted “Lan Zhan!” and threw himself into their midst, trying to help. He was sure one of these men was Lan Wangji. He was determined to help him finish the fight, but there was no answer from his husband.

Hands grasped in the dark and Wei Wuxian wrestled with them, trying to pick Lan Wangji out of the group. I don’t dare hurt Lan Zhan by mistake! His breath was loud in his ears and his fingers were frantic, but moments later his heart sank into his stomach. None of these men are familiar. Also… the sandalwood smell is stale… he sniffed around and realized it was associated with a puddle on the ground that he’d put his foot into. It was too watery and pungent to be blood. Well, at least his cabbage was well-watered…

Ick.

Even worse, instead of continuing to fight amidst themselves, the group of Zuìchū who were not Lan Wangji stopped focusing on each other. They began fighting over him instead. This was happening to Zuihou all over the cavern, hence the cries for help. Wei Wuxian caught an elbow to the brow early and crumpled to the ground amidst a growing pile of bodies, which disrupted his scent.

Wei Wuxian took the hint. Staying down, he crawled away on his hands and knees. Honestly, he was reluctant to hurt any of these men unless he had to. They’d all been deceived. None of them were truly responsible for their actions. It didn't make them any less dangerous and he would defend himself, but still. He wiggled under an overhang of rocks and laid there, listening to them fight each other in the distance. Having some evidence of his husband made him feel better, even if his foot was a little smelly.

Very smelly.

Nose wrinkling, Wei Wuxian rubbed a handful of sand over his dirty foot. He hissed when he remembered the burned spot too late and then dusted off his fingers. Then he blinked in the dark and sniffed those fingers, because the musk was persistent.

Lan Zhan, ah Lan Zhan, I miss you so much and sighing, Wei Wuxian hugged his smelly hand in place of his missing husband. You smell good — even your dirty puddles smell good. Oh, where are you?  He rocked back and forth in an up-welling of separation anxiety and listened to the battle in the distance.

The scent of Lan Wangji drifted up to his nose and pooled in his senses. Sandalwood and the musk of the man himself burned through his membranes and deep into his hindbrain, lighting fires behind his eyes. As before, his neck began to moisten and his blood warmed as his heart pounded in his ears.

The battle in the distance seemed less… brutal somehow, then before. More like wrestling matches instead of biting and gnawing out pieces of each other. Like they were testing each other to figure out who was stronger.

So the secondary locations might be their resting places or little homes they’ve carved out for themselves, depending on who they could dominate, or who was dominating them?  It all seemed rather bestial. They’re little better than animals now, he thought while mindlessly sucking on his fingers.

His rocking changed to something more sensual, spurred on by the taste of Lan Wangji in his mouth, which was so compelling he barely realized that his mind was drifting, remembering the last time they’d slept together. The memory came unbidden; so visceral that he curled up on the ground. He sucked on the fingers in his mouth like he’d sucked on his husband’s lips and tongue. His useless eyes went hazy as conscious thought abandoned him for a time, leaving for a better place…

Lan Zhan felt so good between his legs, even though the wood floor was rubbing him raw in places. Strong, slim, beautiful, Lan Zhan was holding Wei Ying’s ass off the Jingshi’s floor and pounding into him, filling his belly in fierce thrusts.

Wei Ying writhed in his grasp, trying to curl over and crawl up his front to kiss him, but the angle wasn’t good for that. He struggled to turn them, squirming in Lan Zhan’s ferocious grip. His legs kicked out even as Lan Zhan allowed the reposition, but only on his terms.

His control was absolute.

Lan Zhan bullied Wei Ying mercilessly. He pulled Wei Ying off the floor and onto the bed, down into the mattress and then held him there, holding him helpless on his back. Fingers dug into the meat of Wei Ying’s ass and wouldn’t relent. It took a sharp flick before he loosened his grip.

Wei Ying took advantage and finally managed to unseat Lan Zhan, pulling him over the top, bringing his mouth close enough to kiss. It was exactly what Wei Ying wanted; even better that he’d had to fight for it. Even better that the position was shallower and Lan Zhan was unbalanced and scrabbling for control. Snatching it from him was so fun!

Then they were kissing as Lan Zhan’s powerful arms cradled Wei Ying. Humming playfully, Wei Ying tried to thwart Lan Zhan from bracing his legs and repositioning them again to allow for a harsher method. He tried, but failed, and then the ferocious thrusting resumed, filling him up and then retreating, and somehow Lan Zhan was driving his cock deeper again, forcing him to take more, more, more…

Moments later, Wei Wuxian — his mouth trembling with the rhythm of remembered kisses and hips shivering in the wake of feverish thrusts — was spurting a mess out onto the sand. He shivered as the memory lingered deep in his mind. His body was sluggish to throw off the arousal. It would be easy to sink back and surrender to those memories again…

…but something was wrong.

Shivering, Wei Wuxian came back to his senses when a scattering of rocks suggested someone was closer then was necessarily safe. He blinked sightlessly. Slowly he pulled his fingers out of his mouth with a squeak.

What the hell just happened?!

Wei Wuxian sat up, shocked at how easily he’d lost control of himself. His mind had wandered into a memory that felt so real he may as well been re-living it. He’d never been aroused so easily, so thoughtlessly. Now his clothes were wet again. And the only reason he wasn’t retching was because it was the remnants of Lan Wangji’s filth on his fingers, which was somehow tolerable. Even so, he was feeling absolutely filthy. Then he realized something even more upsetting.

The single Zuìchū he could hear in the dark was heading right for him. Scrabbling in the darkness, the man was sniffing noisily. He was following the scent trail that Wei Wuxian had left in his wake after smelling the other Zuìchū — but especially after getting Lan Wangji’s scent on his hand and so into his senses for longer than a few breaths. He must have been leaking without realizing; leaving a trail of droplets that a determined Zuìchū could follow to find him.

The confirmation of the effect of the scent on his mind and body was undeniable. So was the fact that if Wei Wuxian didn’t get his ass moving, right now, that Zuìchū was going to find him. He was going to be found and then he’d be in trouble.

Again.

Realizing his problems were actually bigger then he first feared, Wei Wuxian did the smart thing and hurried away. He stayed quiet and kept moving until he was certain no one was following him in the dark. Crawling down between two stones, he huddled there, shaking.

Think this through.

They only attack to kill each other. Any of our Zuihou group is treated differently. They keep trying to drag us away to some other location. And they are using sound and scent to tell the difference. If I shut the hell up and find a way to hide my scent, wouldn’t that mean they wouldn’t recognize me as Zuihou and if I don’t smell, then they would stop hunting me down?

It seemed worth trying, if he had a method to not reek. Sometimes the best solutions are the easiest. Reluctantly, Wei Wuxian rubbed his hand into the sandy grit, not stopping until he couldn’t smell Lan Wangji anymore. He couldn’t risk another… whatever that had been, no matter how enjoyable.

Then, hesitating, Wei Wuxian scooped up handfuls of sandy grit and rubbed them over his neck. He stopped short of gritting up his ass, but ripped up another strip of his clothing and wiped himself clean. Then he balled up the cloth and tossed it as far away as he could. Thinking further, he tore another strip and rolled it until it resembled a ball. He pressed it into himself to dam any slick, wincing as he did so. It was uncomfortable, but needful if he didn't want to be jumped in the dark. That settled, he nestled down in the hollow, stretching out on his belly, and moaned into his elbow. He felt uniquely miserable while waiting for the Zuìchū to clear out, so he could start searching for Lan Wangji again.

Lack of food, water, and exhaustion finally caught up to Wei Wuxian, especially now that he was horizontal. His eyes closed uselessly in the dark.

Somehow, against his best intentions, he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

When Wei Wuxian awoke again, the cavern was eerily quiet.

Feeling much better for the sleep, Wei Wuxian’s good spirits were mostly restored. Hope was reborn anew, especially as the rest had eased some of his hurts. His feet were recovered enough to ignore thanks to his high pain tolerance. He crawled out of the hollow as quietly as possible, listening for danger.

There seemed an unusual lull in activity.

Is everyone finally tired of fighting? He could hear conflict in the distance, but nothing too dire. He leapt up onto a large boulder and settled there. There he sat for a while, cross-legged and thoughtful.

So far, the hunt for Lan Wangji was not going well. He kept remembering the puddle he’d encountered. How unusual for Lan Zhan to leave such a dirty mess for others to find. There was another worry… would Lan Zhan even recognize me? His concerns only snowballed from there. It’s been some time, now. If Lan Zhan was capable, he would have already found me. But without the use of cultivation, his options were limited. He couldn’t come up with any better plan then to continue searching. So he did just that, striking out into the darkness once more. But he tried to be more strategic about the matter, paying more attention towards memorizing landmarks in the dark.

The feng shui was terrible, but hope remained. I’ve been here before, in spirit. Well, it hadn’t been as dark, but the burial mounds had been every bit as desolate and wretched. He’d survived that hellhole — had even tamed the gloom and made a home there — so I’ll survive this one, too.

There was plenty to memorize.

The massive cavern with its winding passages was full of unique rock formations and winding paths, some small and narrow, others huge and open. Side-caves were numerous and generally shallow. The ground was covered with questionably-shaped pebbles and other unidentifiable clutter. He was starting to suspect they were the remnants of old bones and rotting cloth as they rattled suspiciously whenever he lost his footing and scattered them. Any sounds seemed to travel noticeably further in the quiet. With the fearsome human noise quieted, the natural sounds of the cavern were surprisingly welcome; he could hear the splashing of a spring flowing somewhere. He licked his cracking lips.

So that was one problem potentially sorted.

Problems…

Wei Wuxian’s problems were becoming too many to ignore. His stomach grumbled and his mouth was parched like a desert. It felt like days since he’d drank anything. How long had he been down here in the dark? It could have been days or a week; there was no sense of morning or night.

Taking a break from husband-hunting, Wei Wuxian held out his hands and started slinking towards the sound of water. Locating the spring was harder than he expected, because it was easy to get turned around. The sound of water bounced off the walls and ceilings, making it hard to pinpoint an exact direction. He clambered around or through various rock formations, pausing to feel things out. He committed what he could to memory. Occasionally he would step on a fusty old bone or piece of skull and the cracking sound made him flinch.

Noise was dangerous.

As time passed, Wei Wuxian began acclimating to life in the dark. He relied on his sense of touch and hearing, and increasingly his sense of smell was becoming useful. There were certain smells that lingered, and he made use of them. He even realized he’d gone in a circle when he recognized a mixture of old scents, while constructing a mental map of the huge central cavern.

Certain areas smelled strongly of Zuìchū. Especially near the cavern walls where small openings would expand again into sub-caves. He could tell when a few sniffs caught his interest and made his nasal passages and mouth tingle. Those places he took pains to avoid. Several times he heard something curious when he encountered those stronger scents, where some of the afflicted men were resting. His head cocked warily when he heard chewing nearby; the tearing of something and the smacking of lips. It sounded like scavengers worrying over a carcass, but he wasn’t sure what they were eating. He hadn’t encountered anything edible.

What animals would there be to eat in this cave? And Wei Wuxian knew of the theoretical existence of tiny cave fish, worms, and insects — both small and large. Hopefully there’s no big dragon centipedes down here, he thought, wincing. I couldn’t manage anything formidable without the ghost path. But there’s been no trace of any animals so far? This might not be a normal cave, anyway.

Crouched down, Wei Wuxian listened as the man enjoyed his meal. His suspicions made him queasy. Frowning, he backed away, unwilling to investigate further. Surely he was wrong about this. There must be animals here. I’ll catch one when I encounter them. Better to eat raw meat then starve.

After circling around the threat, Wei Wuxian was relieved to hear running water just ahead. Finally he found a little spring splashing down from a crack in the ceiling. There must be a reservoir above, draining through the main cavern and his happy expression nearly brightened the dark.

“Oh thank—”

—he smacked himself into silence for more than one reason. Need to be quiet or I’ll be entertaining company again!  What followed that thought was a silent, but very genuine tantrum, complete with flailing fists: I won’t thank heaven for any of this! Fortunately such energetic expressions passed quickly.

Shivering with anticipation, Wei Wuxian returned his attention to the water. He felt out the spring with his fingers. Kneeling, he plunged face-first and gulped mouthfuls until satisfied. His cracked lips soothed for the comforting wet and he sat back up, feeling ridiculously happy. At least I won’t die of thirst down here!

Wei Wuxian washed his hands and relished the sensation. Clean skin felt so good! The water felt so crisp and refreshing that he stayed longer then intended. He was still missing a husband, but didn’t he deserve a decent bath after all his troubles?

And so Wei Wuxian indulged himself.

The spring was splashing down and scattering droplets in all directions. They pattered on the rocks and disguised his splashing. He stripped down and splashed his face and body, like a delighted songbird scattering water. He washed enthusiastically until his bites, scrapes, and scratches were clean. Then he rung out his gauzy robe and tore more strips out. He rewrapped his wounds (his skin becoming ever more scandalously bare by the moment) and especially his feet.

Then, beneath the waterfall, he discovered a hollow. Shrugging whimsically, he went all in. He splooshed bottom-first into the spring, which was just wide enough to accommodate his backside. Spring-water rained down over his head, rinsing his hair. Legs stretched out, he bathed with gusto, paying special attention to his new naughty spots, especially those under his neck that stank. His standard-issue naughty bits came next. Then, after liberating his plugged hole, he scrubbed between his legs until he couldn’t smell himself anymore.

Finally Wei Wuxian retrieved his refreshed ass from the spring. He stepped a few paces over, pulling on the shreds of his clothing. They were wet, but clean. Thrilled, he returned to the hunt, but moments later his own scent drifted up to his nose.

“Already?” he moaned, rubbing at his throat.

Oh no.

Wei Wuxian didn’t like being dirty, but he’d sussed out early that the scent from his neck and especially between his legs was how the Zuìchū could find him in the dark. He’d been fortunate to stay in the main cavern for so long in the beginning, because while the smells there were overpowering, they’d also camouflaged him to a certain extent. He’d suffered a low simmering arousal the first few sleeps, but now everyone was spreading out and the air was deposing down, meaning the tension in his belly had eased and his scent would become distinct again. The Zuìchū could follow his trail and pounce, and then he’d have a fight on his hands.

It was a very particular fight, ending in ways that didn’t bear imagining. Taking up handfuls of sand and dirt, Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes and groaned theatrically, but rubbed the dirt over his sensitive places. He ripped another handful of cloth and rolled it up to stem the wet from his ass. Then he covered his backside with enough sandy dirt to mask his scent. That left him dirty and gritty everywhere, but it also meant the Zuìchū wouldn’t recognize what he was so easily.

Pouting, Wei Wuxian was about to head out deeper into the black when something small skittered past. He snatched the thing up without thinking, feeling wriggling legs and buzzing wings between encircling fingers. He tossed it aside just as fast; he knew a cockroach when he felt one. A sudden flashback to the burial mounds made him flinch. The scuttling faded and he made no attempt to follow. He wasn’t that hungry — yet.

Please not roaches, pleaded Wei Wuxian towards the ceiling with raised hands and steepled fingers. I’ll take raw fish, even worms! Just nothing with lots of legs… there was a distinct difference between ‘meat’ and the chitin and slimy goop of insects. Alas, he had the distinct impression there weren’t any gods listening.

Did they ever?

“How is my luck always so bad?” Wei Wuxian complained loudly, flopping backwards onto the ground to rest. Then he slapped a hand over his mouth, shaking himself harshly in rebuke.

Stop talking aloud!

Stupid — it was so stupid how hard it was to not make any noise. He kept forgetting himself, over and over. The problem was that he was such a chatty person by nature. If there wasn’t someone around, then he talked to anything and everything — even animals, sticks, stones — and finally himself if he must keep his own company. Normally it was a good thing for his mental health and oversized personality that he wasn’t picky who he talked to, but less so in this miserable environment. At least there was more noise around him to help cover his accidental chatter.

The darkness is kind of loud right now, actually?

Wei Wuxian could hear scuffling and whispering coming from little side-caves nearby. Nervous human noises whispered from every single direction, after a period of silence. Surviving Zuihou stirred in the quiet, trying to attend to the needful matters of staying alive in such an inhospitable environment. It would have been bad enough even without the feral men.

Tapping his nose, Wei Wuxian returned to the hunt. If I could just find some trace of Lan Zhan maybe I could follow his scent like those men were following me and it seemed as good a plan as any. He paid more attention to his nose, sniffing here and there.

Carefully, Wei Wuxian circled around the other trapped men while searching for hints of sandalwood or smelly puddles. Time passed, his feet started hurting, and he had nothing to show for it. Becoming discouraged, he began calling for his husband again. This went against his better judgement, and sure enough the Zuìchū invariably headed his direction. He begrudged the time wasted throwing rocks to misdirect them. At least damming up his scent worked decently to keep him safe.

I need help.

Having come to the conclusion, Wei Wuxian acted upon it pretty much immediately. Listening carefully, he headed in the direction of intelligible human voices. They were as much upstream without a paddle as he was, but maybe one of them knew something…

Wei Wuxian made his biggest mistake and learned his harshest lesson when he joined up with a group of men trying to block off one of the side-caves. Wary of mistreatment, he’d paused for a time and listened, but they seemed normal. They were friendly enough with each other, and the sound of their determined whispers finally lured him in.

“Hey, what’s happening, what are we doing?” whispered Wei Wuxian when he was close enough to join them without making too much noise. He could smell them now, though the smell of his own group didn’t force any arousal. He could hear stones being gathered and piled at the entrance. Swiftly he clambered over the wall of stones and helped them, eager to join any conversation.

“Are you one of the crazy ones?” demanded one man.

Wei Wuxian blinked in the darkness and softly laughed; “Well, we are having a conversation and I am helping you move rocks — so no?”

A few other men burst into chuckles, too. The tension broke for a moment, but then an avalanche of hushes and shushes from deeper in the cave ended the lighter moment. “They’ll hear you,” someone warned.

The resulting silence deepened.

“I’m trying to find someone I’ve lost,” whispered Wei Wuxian after a moment of tremulous quiet. “He’s handsome and regal with a stern, but lovable expression and usually wears white like a funeral and never tells lies. He’s just the prettiest, with long fingers and beautiful gold eyes, but I guess you can’t see those, hmm. Anyway, he’s very tall and slim - but not skinny! - with lots of hard-toned muscle and about a head taller than me, not to say I’m all that much shorter, at least not when I’m riding the donkey—” and he would have kept gushing about his Hanguang-Jun for hours, but another landslide of shushes cut him off.

Wei Wuxian pouted in the dark. He considered throwing pebbles at everyone instead of helping with their stupid wall, until a man crept near enough that they could whisper. He identified himself as Ling Ping. The name sounded familiar, but Wei Wuxian couldn't remember. Regardless, Ling Ping seemed like a down-to-earth sort of person. He sounded sensible and probably had a tidy look with calloused hands, exactly the sort to have around when things needed doing. Ling Ping knelt close and asked what Hanguang-Jun sounded like with genuine concern.

Encouraged, Wei Wuxian dropped the pebble. He continued to describe his big cabbage, but was sadly disappointed when Ling Ping hadn’t heard any such man. “How unlucky I have been these last few days,” he sighed.

“Who knows. Maybe it’s good, maybe it’s bad,” whispered Ling Ping, ruefully so. “I'm not married, but I have a cultivation partner. He's a good friend and trapped here too, but he's in the other group. I hope we don't... I hope...” and he trailed off, never mentioning what it was he hoped never to experience, but it didn't need describing. It was a nightmare looming over them both.

With a sympathetic expression that no one could see, Ling Ping reached out and awkwardly patted Wei Wuxian’s forlorn face before switching to his arm. Human interactions were stilted and difficult in the dark, but Wei Wuxian appreciated the kindness all the same.

Everyone went back to moving rocks. Wei Wuxian scrabbled around and found a few decent ones and placed them, using touch and sound alone. As he worked, he considered the situation, and because he always considered himself a team player — even when sometimes he wasn’t — he tossed his head and had to point out the obvious. “You realize if we wall ourselves in here, then we won’t have any water to drink?”

The darkness quivered.

“He’s right — we should have picked a cave with water!”

“We can’t move now!”

“Maybe use a large rock for a door?”

Far away and echoing from an outer tunnel, a man was caught out and started screaming for someone to stop. His cries were moving further away, as if he was being dragged somewhere. The cries became unfocused, softened, and then abruptly cut off.

“They caught another one,” someone whispered. “You know what happens next?”

Frantic rustling resumed as they hurried to move more rocks. Nothing to store water in, this is a bad idea, but Wei Wuxian just sighed and helped them, though he didn’t intend to stay with them. He would leave soon, but was currently enjoying their company.

The logistics of wall-building in the dark — not so much. Men were not meant to live in complete darkness and creating a rock wall was an awkward process at the best of times. Their inept clumsiness would have been comical, if their situation hadn’t been so dire. The rocks clunked and clattered dangerously as the wall took haphazard shape, but so far they hadn’t drawn attention to themselves.

Their combined smell grew heavy in the air. Wei Wuxian’s nose twitched. It felt like a communal musk was condensing down, and that made him anxious. I need to leave soon, he thought, regretfully. He wanted to stay, but couldn’t afford to delay his husband-hunting for long, especially since none of these men could help him. Well, at least he could help them with their wall, and other things besides.

“You know they find us because they can smell us?” whispered Wei Wuxian helpfully, while rubbing at his gritty neck. “If you cover yourselves with dirt — under the neck and other smelly places — then they can’t follow you so easily. You can hide in the dark and they can’t track you!”

“Dirt?” someone mumbled, unconvinced.

“It works,” Wei Wuxian assured them. He was gratified to hear some of them gather up handfuls of dirt, though the musk already in the air remained potent. It hung so thick that he could feel it settling like dew on his skin.

That seemed to break the silence. The little group grew bolder as time passed; mumbling and whispering and stumbling into each other without offense. Despite the noise, the mouth of the side-cave remained clear and eventually the complaining started up again. Wei Wuxian listened carefully and this is what he heard:

“They said we were going to heaven to perform!”

“They lied.”

“Shhh!”

“It has to be a mistake! The imperials will summon us back any moment!”

Wei Wuxian recognized some of the voices. He knew this man by the sound of his voice and the depth of his outrage. It was Teng Ju, the soft noble with the beautiful wife.

“No mistake,” snarled an aggressive voice from the back of the cave. “There was no mistake! Remember how suspiciously they were acting? They knew — they sent us here on purpose!”

Wei Wuxian paused with a rock in his hands and sat back on his haunches. That was exactly his understanding too. He considered adding to the conversation and telling the men what he’d seen on the cavern wall. He kept opening his mouth to break in, but never got the chance.

“—but why? What do they want from us?”

“The men in the other group are insane. Maybe that’s what they meant about fighting a battle? Maybe we have to kill the crazy ones before the imperials will let us return—”

“Then why didn’t they say so? Why keep something like that a secret?” demanded another man, who then yelped when he dropped a rock on his foot. “No shoes! Why didn’t they give us shoes?! This flimsy robe is already falling apart!”

“Quiet down — they’ll hear you!”

“The imperials knew they were fucking us over and didn’t want to waste anything good on us!” snapped the aggressive voice.

Teng Ju was fretting. “It doesn’t make any sense—”

“Those crazy men out there are cut-sleeves!”

“They aren’t cut-sleeves,” and Wei Wuxian finally forced his voice into the fray to correct the misunderstanding, because he wasn’t suffering any of that. “Actually they are acting like ferals. Cut-sleeves are men who love other men. Remember, we had an emperor who was a cut-sleeve. It’s not a curse.”

The silence was sullen.

“Why do you care?”

Wei Wuxian sniffed. “My husband is out there.”

Several men paused as the painfully obvious sank in. Some of them snuffled and retreated. The one that hated cut-sleeves merely scoffed, but was scolded by several other men. “We’re all in this together,” several voices reminded, followed by the ever appropriate “shut the hell up and get back to moving rocks — before they find us!”

“Sorry to hear that,” mumbled Ling Ping, sounding upset on his behalf.

Wei Wuxian graciously accepted the apology. He threw a pebble at the rude scoffing man’s face, but unfortunately missed because the man was back to moving rocks and wasn’t in the same place anymore. Then everyone focused on their work.

The rock wall continued to take shape, but something about the situation was bothering Wei Wuxian, beyond the water problem. He paused and tapped his nose, concerned, but wasn’t able to pinpoint exactly what was wrong. I should leave before they finish closing up the entrance… the confrontation over cut-sleeves had really soured his opinion on them, especially the cowards hiding in the back of the cave that refused to help.

I’ve othered myself, and Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but wonder when the harassment would start. He had the distinct impression that Ling Ping had been right to keep some things to himself, in such a volatile situation. He decided to leave once the rock wall reached the top of the cave-mouth, which was soon, because he was certain this was a mistake. I’d say something, but I’ve no better solution then to stay out in the open and keep moving. Turtling up and erecting a wall seemed reasonable for men intending to stick together — especially a group as chatty as this one. Though, in their defense, there was plenty to talk about. He certainly wasn’t helping that way.

“Did any of you see the symbols?” asked Wei Wuxian, positioning his last rock. “When I summoned the light to find my husband, there were symbols on the wall.” He was wary after the cut-sleeve comments, but still wanted to share what he knew. He felt like he owed it to them.

“I saw them,” confirmed another man, named Gao Kun. He spoke reluctantly, as if shell-shocked. His voice was new. He hadn’t joined any conversations until now, though he’d been forceful with handing out shushes.

“What did you see?” asked Ling Ping.

The men gathered around, including Teng Ju, who was breathing noisily in the dark. The smell around them intensified with their fear. They all sensed something important was being shared. Wei Wuxian opened his mouth, but Gao Kun beat him to it. “I saw the writing. It said this is a demonic rite. Heaven, the immortals, and the imperials conspired to send us here to be sacrificed to demons.”

“That’s not true,” hissed Teng Ju, instantly angry. “They wouldn’t dare!” and he sounded like he was shaking. “They are expecting us to return, our families are waiting back at the palace!”

Surely Teng Ju was thinking of the pretty thing he’d foolishly shown off in the emperor’s presence. There was no prizes awarded for guessing her fate if he died in a hole somewhere and she ended up needing a new husband.

It’s true they’re expecting some of us to return, thought Wei Wuxian, rocking back on his heels. He tuned out the chatter for a moment. The imperials are going to summon us back. His mind cast inward, remembering the doctors preparing medicines back in the palace. They are expecting many of us to be wounded. But how are they planning to keep us from warning everyone? Or perhaps that doesn’t really matter, because enough centuries pass between rituals that it’s only an issue when we return? Is it really just a matter of managing our clans so that there are no immediate consequences and then time will take care of the rest?

“I saw it too,” confirmed another man, reluctantly. “I — can’t read, but I saw symbols.” Several other men murmured confirmations. Many had seen the same thing, though most couldn’t read. Their voices overlapped, growing louder as they collectively realized the horror of their situation.

Teng Ju began to panic aloud. “You’ve misread! This is a mistake! Demons have hijacked the summoning spell and kidnapped us! Heaven will save us!”

Ling Ping latched onto the idea like a drowning man. “How do you know the writing on the wall is real — it might be a trick? The imperials will rescue us when they realize—”

“Sure they will — after the way they were acting?” cried the aggressive voice, still hunkered in the back of the cave. He’d positioned himself such that the rest of the men were between him and the cave opening. “You think they would ever admit any mistake? Demons or not, intentional or not, no one is coming to rescue us!”

“No one is coming for us,” agreed Wei Wuxian, because he was sure of that. “But they will be summoning us back, eventually. Did anyone see how long this ritual is supposed to last? We just have to survive until—”

But Wei Wuxian’s reasonable tone was drowned out by the growing roar of frightened voices. Remembering that noise was dangerous, he closed his mouth. It was and wasn’t as bad as they were thinking, but he didn’t dare outshout them. He was joining the ranks of the frustrated shushers when something caught his attention. Suddenly he cocked his head, listening.

“How can you be so sure they’d abandon us?!” cried another voice amid a shivering of pebbles, as if the man was rocking back in forth in shock. “What is the shame in being kidnapped? It’s more shameful for the immortals to abandon us when heaven warns something went wrong!”

“No one is warning anyone of anything,” said Gao Kun, sounding like he was coming to terms with his impending death. “They don’t need to. They know where we are, and we are exactly where they intend us to be. I know what I saw.”

Ling Ping sounded frightened. “So what do we do now?”

“We should stop talking,” snapped Wei Wuxian, causing an avalanche of agreeing shushes. He was certain he was hearing something. He hurried to the opening in the rock wall. It was only large enough now to admit two men shoulder to shoulder. He hissed and pressed himself to the side of the opening, trying to listen over the sounds of fearful human voices. He was considering just running out.

Meanwhile, Teng Ju was wailing denials.

“They sent us here to die,” snarled the aggressive voice, insisting on picking a fight with Teng Ju. “Our bones will rot and our spirits will suffer in the dark forever!”

“Shut up!” snapped Wei Wuxian. He threw a rock in the direction of the aggressive shit-stirring voice, because he was definitely hearing thumping feet. Maybe lots of thumping feet, suggesting the time for shutting up might have been minutes ago.

“The imperials lied to us — yiiih! who threw that?! — and now we are all going to fucking die here—”

Teng Ju couldn’t control himself and shrieked: “THERE’S NO FUCKING WAY!”

In the sudden silence, the thunder of approaching feet was unmistakable. Wei Wuxian cried warning for the other men to brace themselves, to prepare for a fight. He tried to leap into the gap to kick the attackers back — intending to do something stupidly brave. He collided instead with a heaving, heavy body that burst through and into the cave.

Wei Wuxian was knocked to the side — physically and sensually — as a wall of musk followed the Zuìchū inside. Their stench punched Wei Wuxian right in the hindbrain even as more bodies roared past, throwing themselves amidst the shocked Zuihou and grasping at them with ferocity. Several were slammed down to the ground.

Pandemonium broke out.

The sound and smells of writhing bodies became a thunder to the lightening of shouting and shrieking human voices. “Shit — shit!” and Wei Wuxian tripped several of the attackers, and then pressed the back of his hand against his mouth a second later.

Noise was a bad idea right now!

More and more Zuìchū were pouring through the small cave opening. There were too many to manage. Musk thickened the air; the Zuìchū and Zuihou scents mingling into a potent soup that quickened Wei Wuxian’s blood. His lower belly began to ache and his thoughts grew muzzy. Simultaneously, the Zuìchū seemed confused by the mingled scents. They began relying on the sing-song of structured language to pick out the Zuihou instead, trying to pounce and then exploding into violence. Things were getting worse and worse by the moment.

Huddled against the wall, Wei Wuxian realized what was bothering him, what had been nibbling at the edge of his mind right from the beginning; we recreated the original conditions that sparked the bloodbath in the first place!  

There were too many Zuìchū in an enclosed place with no way to retreat. Fights that should end with weaker men fleeing would now end in death. The heavy concentrations of mingled scents muddied the lines between Zuihou and Zuìchū, such that gentler handling would not happen… and more Zuìchū were still hurtling into the gap. Too many to deal with, and Wei Wuxian understood that if he stayed, there was no chance he could avoid severe injury.

Have to get out of here and Wei Wuxian did the smart thing and stayed silently pressed to the wall. He didn’t cry for fear, or shout commands, or try to struggle with the aggressors. Biting his lips, he kept his damned mouth shut. The air inside the cave grew overpowering. He could feel his mind start to slide, colors creeped in through the back of his eyes, the beginnings of a waking dream that wouldn’t end well for him. Even so, some tiny voice in the back of his mind noticed there’s no sandalwood.

It doesn’t mean anything and Wei Wuxian comforted himself, because even while suffering as a candle in a storm, some part of him was always thinking of Lan Wangji. The hole cleared for a moment and he wriggled into the cave gap, desperate to escape. Immediately he smashed heads with a huge Zuìchū barreling inside.

The thrashing was causing the heavily-leaden air to gust out the gap, so the scent of Zuihou was very strong. They’re starting to fight in front the entrance, blocking any escape and that was horrible news for the men trapped inside.

“Ai-yah!” cried Wei Wuxian, struggling with the Zuìchū amid a building panic. “Get out of my way!”

Revealing himself as ‘not one of them’ ended up being the right move. The huge Zuìchū recognized what Wei Wuxian was and grabbed hold with a covetous hand. The man’s brutality inadvertently saved Wei Wuxian as he brought to bear the sheer force necessary to clear the way back out with extreme violence. The persistent Zuìchū used his weight and free fist to send lesser rivals flying — oh hey that was an actual punch thrown, so does that mean they’re regaining something of their thinking — but Wei Wuxian couldn’t ponder the matter, because the man dragging him out was an absolute monster.

The persistent Zuìchū reminded Wei Wuxian strongly of Chifēng-Zun, because of his lean-but-massive body and bulldog persistence. Physically, they might as well have been twins and so Wei Wuxian named him accordingly in perilous, but whimsical tribute: “Hey, Fèngfēng, stop!”

Fèngfēng did nothing of the sort.

As soon as they were clear, Wei Wuxian twisted gracefully and tried to break Fèngfēng’s grip, but his struggles amounted to nothing. He couldn’t manage, partly because he was weaker for lack of food, but also because Fèngfēng was twice his size. The hand would not unclench and then he was being dragged away like a prize to be hidden from others.

It didn’t help that Wei Wuxian still stank. The musk from the cave clung to his skin and clothing and lured more Zuìchū away, though there were plenty to go around. Behind him, the gap in the cave wall was completely filled with struggling bodies.

It would be a miracle if any of the men inside survived.

-o-o-o-

Fèngfēng hauled Wei Wuxian deeper into the central cavern.

At first Fèngfēng dragged Wei Wuxian, but as Wei Wuxian’s energetic struggling continued — even leaping up and curling around the powerful arm and using his legs to try and kick his way free such that he was dangling from the larger body — Fèngfēng had resorted to carrying him, heedless of his gasping breaths and protesting noises. Then Fèngfēng forced a squirrelly Wei Wuxian down into a hollow between two towering stones. The fighting at the sub-cave was still raging, but the sound was muffled by distance.

Wei Wuxian yelped as Fèngfēng crashed down, intentionally so, whirling to pin Wei Wuxian on his back. Slim legs kicked out on either side, smacking against the rocks, the bulk over the top of Wei Wuxian easily twice his size. Then Fèngfēng bit down on Wei Wuxian’s neck and sucked over his throat, tongue lathing stripes as if savoring him. Wei Wuxian fought every step of the way, but couldn’t wriggle free.

The stubble on Fèngfēng’s face was scratchy. Brutishly Fèngfēng spat a mouthful of gathered grit as if confused, but still went back for more. The scent of the Zuihou on Wei Wuxian’s skin was driving Fèngfēng's vicious lust, until he managed to lick clean the sticky spots on Wei Wuxian’s neck. Then Wei Wuxian’s own strong scent was liberated, worsening the situation, while the sensation of lips landing back on his neck and sucking hard went straight to his cock, balls, and backside.

Wei Wuxian felt his cock betray him, lengthen and twitch purely from Fèngfēng’s scent, which was overpowering. I don't want this, he thought, hatefully. More alarming, a dangerous sop of wet was building from behind. The reaction was involuntary and unwanted, and then Fèngfēng whirled him over onto his stomach. Pungent droplets dripped down from Fèngfēng, pattering and gathering in the smooth hollow of his back. The smell grew even stronger.

Wei Wuxian’s mind reeled.

Rebelling against his arousal — against the wretched drunken state that was taking him over — Wei Wuxian squirmed as Fèngfēng wrestled him every-which-way. Wei Wuxian felt feverish fingers scrabble over his backside, tearing loose the cloth plug, leaving him bared and leaking — making things worse. Hands began to arrange him in a terrifying way, and for the weight on his back, he couldn’t escape. Knees clamped onto his sides, backwards, facing his backside. Fèngfēng was too heavy and drippy, and now that same asshole was licking up the splatter of slick on the inside of his thigh!

Wei Wuxian officially lost his mind.

Snatching up a rock, Wei Wuxian shouted “let me go!” and “fuck you!” and smashed Fèngfēng in the back with the rock. He struck over and over, until Fèngfēng whirled and punched him so hard the rock went flying. He fell back, stunned, and then shouted amidst a cavern filled with howling, screaming voices, until he caught the attention of weaker Zuìchū hovering at the edges of the side-cave entrance.

Hearing the music of his voice, the Zuìchū hurtled towards him instead.

The new Zuìchū collided with Fèngfēng and Wei Wuxian was knocked to the side. He rolled away and tried to flee, but was dragged back. Fèngfēng still hadn’t released Wei Wuxian, who landed punches right and left. But Fèngfēng was impossible to dislodge, because blows seemed to bounce right off him. Fèngfēng clung to the handful of cloth still wrapped around Wei Wuxian with a death grip, even as a pack of Zuìchū landed on top of them both. Fèngfēng continued to drag Wei Wuxian, even while dog-piled. His strength was impressive and with another forceful burst, the ferals were fighting over the top of Wei Wuxian again.

Wei Wuxian just couldn’t shake his attackers.

They were too focused on him; the persistent Fèngfēng held his arm and tried to position him for penetration while a younger Zuìchū grabbed him by the leg and was trying to pull him away from Fèngfēng, leaving Wei Wuxian feeling like a pork chop between two dogs.

“Lan Zhan!” shrieked Wei Wuxian when it seemed the bad things he feared were going to happen to him, as they’d happened to so many others. His luck had finally run out. Steady cries of “Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan!” echoed out into the darkness.

Fèngfēng tried to position over top of Wei Wuxian, and then realized the younger Zuìchū was in his place. Keeping his hold, he dragged Wei Wuxian a few paces away, which dragged the younger Zuìchū the same distance. Wei Wuxian began screaming his husband’s name ceaselessly as the Zuìchū began to fight in earnest.

A panicked Wei Wuxian, suffering no other recourse thanks to Fèngfēng’s grimy knee planted upon his chest, reached the breaking point. Gathering resentment, the veins on his face and neck bulged. He used the energy to throw Fèngfēng off like a bad dream. It was another minor spell, something he’d been contemplating as a last resort, completely internal without spilling any light in the hopes of going unnoticed.

Fèngfēng and the younger Zuìchū were tossed decently away — but the problem was that Wei Wuxian’s scent was incandescent in the dark. The two Zuìchū roared back just as fast as he’d thrown them. Even worse, though there was no outward sign for his infraction of the rules, Wei Wuxian still felt the suppression array react. It was just a flicker of further adjustment — meaning his little trick wouldn’t work again — and then he knew.

Punishment was coming.

Wei Wuxian barely had time to react before the bolt came again, this time much faster. Surely he was being watched meticulously as the demons enjoyed the spectacle, because they seemed prepared.

There was no dithering this time.

Once again the bolt sent Wei Wuxian flying through the air, while scattering the Zuìchū in its thunderous wake. His head struck a stalagmite and he fell like a rag-doll into a motionless heap on the ground.

-o-o-o-

Wei Wuxian awoke screaming for Lan Wangji.

This time the pain was different from a burn; Wei Wuxian’s muscles were in agonized spasm. Every single muscle he owned was cramping. The electrical bolt had disrupted his ability to use his muscles, so that he couldn’t move or defend himself. The full-body cramping lasted for several minutes, but was extremely memorable, even for someone who tended to forget pain moments after suffering it. After the electric arc faded — leaving him hot with pain and a pins-and-needles sensation all over his body — the result was a slushy weakness that left him helpless — which was much worse than a burn.

Wei Wuxian couldn’t move.

He couldn’t move, but his body was moving. He moaned softly as felt himself gathered and his limpness puzzled over for some time. It was as if Fèngfēng realized Wei Wuxian was hurt and actually cared about that — now that Fèngfēng wasn’t drowning in pheromones — but didn’t know what to do about it.

The darkness stirred around them, full of rival attackers, and a groaning Wei Wuxian felt a huge hand stroke over his face, trying to quiet him. When that failed, he was thrown over Fèngfēng’s broad shoulder. Fèngfēng made good on his intentions and took off with Wei Wuxian, still extremely insistent on claiming him, even with several other ferals in pursuit. Wei Wuxian cried out miserably as he was bounced, his arms dangling as Fèngfēng fled with him into the dark.

The running fight came to a head when Fèngfēng smashed into a boulder in the dark, sending Wei Wuxian flying into the blackness. Wei Wuxian sprawled in a heap of weak limbs, his hands and feet utterly useless. A meager amount of control over his arms was coming back, slowly. He folded them feebly to his chest. But his trunk, legs, hands, and feet were still useless, even with a wrestling match in full force right next to him.

Several Zuìchū had pounced on Fèngfēng, forcing him to contend with them. Wei Wuxian could hear them fighting a hands-breadth away. He writhed pitifully, because this was the perfect time to crawl away — but he couldn’t manage. His limbs wouldn’t obey him, sagging uselessly. He couldn’t even rub dirt onto himself to hide in the dark, which meant he still smelled strongly.

Sure enough, one of the weaker Zuìchū who’d been driven away in the fighting circled around and found him. It was a classic scenario of the stronger men losing sight of the reward while the opportunistic youngster took full advantage.

Light-headed, Wei Wuxian felt the new Zuìchū grope feverishly down his body, confirming what he was and that he was worth the risk. Again, his limpness was puzzled over — because there was no point fighting over a dead body — and a mouth tentatively nuzzled his body, mouthing between his legs. Unwelcome tension was building in his belly for the handling, though smothered by the pain of his muscles.

Before Wei Wuxian could start shouting again, a hand slithered over his face. It was a smart move on the part of the opportunistic Zuìchū, because he couldn’t defend Wei Wuxian from Fèngfēng and the stronger ferals around him. He wasn’t strong enough. Smothering Wei Wuxian into silence, he took his chance and lifted him and sprinted away.

They know better where they are going than I do, and Wei Wuxian glowered resentfully as his new abductor dodged obstacles mid-flight, using nothing more than scent markers and memory. Wei Wuxian was getting better too, memorizing where to go, but not like this. The younger Zuìchū was making decent progress towards actually spiriting him away!

Wei Wuxian wasn’t taking that sitting down.

Thrashing his head, Wei Wuxian struggled to breathe around stifling fingers and then sucked them into his mouth. Mercilessly he chomped down on the fingers smothering him. The young Zuìchū startled and accidentally dropped him.

“Waah,” moaned Wei Wuxian, landing heavily on his side. “Stop attacking me,” he groaned. “Just fuck off already,” and though his muscles were still recovering, he managed to roll onto his front, using his elbows to try and crawl away.

The young Zuìchū sniffed carefully and easily recovered Wei Wuxian in the dark. He rolled Wei Wuxian onto his back, otherwise undeterred by the bite. He didn’t even seem offended. Wei Wuxian remembered how differently the ferals responded to pain. They barely took note beyond startlement, and maybe that was some of the reason for the mounting casualties.

The young Zuìchū seemed to think they were far enough away. He lost interest in escaping, settling over the top of Wei Wuxian instead. He began to paw over him, exploring his flesh, licking and sucking down his body while learning all the landmarks. Then he repositioned himself, intending something that Wei Wuxian wished no part of.

Wei Wuxian had gone too long with the Zuìchū scent in his senses. Suffering a bizarre mingling of forced arousal and pain, which he deeply resented, Wei Wuxian tried to curl up to protect his lower body as he was rolled over again, face down on the ground. These pebbles smell like ground-down old bones some part of him recognized — just another thing the burial mounds had taught him — but he had bigger problems. His mind reeled again, threatening another waking dream as his attacker settled between his legs. It won’t feel real, because I won’t be here, he realized with dawning horror. His perceptions slipped, his sight returning in the form of a vision of Lan Wangji settling over the top of him beneath blue sky — the sensation confusing because his attacker was actually over the back of him. It was the same as before, so vivid he may as well actually be there.

He couldn’t succumb.

Crying out for Lan Wangji one last time, Wei Wuxian drew another group of Zuìchū’s attention in a seemingly neverending cycle — no wonder so many of his group were already dead — and then as if by a miracle, a sudden gust of sandalwood and a welcome musk blasted Wei Wuxian in the face.

“Lan Zhan!” cried Wei Wuxian, hopefully.

The vision Lan Wangji swam in and out of focus. Whatever his reality, Wei Wuxian wanted his husband so badly that he lost himself to the unwelcome chemicals in his blood; thrust headlong into a wonderful dream. He relaxed completely, smiling up at his beautiful husband. He welcomed Lan Wangji home with wide-spread legs and an eager expression as Lan Wangji settled his weight down and took his place.

Then the situation was turned on its head as the inexperienced young Zuìchū trying to enter Wei Wuxian was wrenched aside. It was as if some ferocious ghost had arrived. All the Zuìchū in the area reacted to the silent presence. These were lesser, younger Zuìchū and upon smelling the silent newcomer, seemed to recognize some special danger. They broke off pursuit and returned to the stone wall with its tantalizing Zuihou scents, re-joining that chaotic scene instead.

The newcomer finally drove away the younger Zuìchū from the area, and as the air settled around him, Wei Wuxian returned to his senses briefly thereafter. For a blessed moment, all Wei Wuxian could hear was silence.

“Lan Zhan?” whispered Wei Wuxian.

It was stupid — so utterly stupid to cry out when he was so vulnerable. Especially since he couldn’t even move and was already filling the air with scent, but his mind was drunk on pheromones. He couldn’t keep quiet when Lan Wangji was nearby, even when he wasn’t the mental equivalent of a puddle.

Suddenly someone pounced on Wei Wuxian, someone deeply familiar. That one felt over his body and pushed his face into Wei Wuxian’s neck, breathing him in. That deep intake of breath was followed by a sharp bite to Wei Wuxian’s bare, trembling throat. Familiar scent washed over him; the beloved sandalwood smell was largely faded for lack of incense and bath soap, and now his husband’s own musk was much stronger. He rolled Wei Wuxian over with a single, ferocious twist of Wei Wuxian’s shaking thigh.

Wei Wuxian breathed deep, delighted down to his bones to be reunited with Lan Wangji. When the pheromone punch to his senses came again, leaving him light-headed, the arousal was most welcome.

“Lan Zhan!” cried Wei Wuxian, overcome with joy.

He believed that Lan Wangji felt much the same, because their reunion was a confused and feverish mishmash of mouths and bodies as Wei Wuxian was overcome with the same mental haze, but this time he welcomed what was coming. He was positioned on his back proper and taken, fiercely and feverishly, pierced right through. Strong arms clenched around him, lifting his lower body from the floor. His spine arched as his belly accepted his husband’s huge shaft and he barely managed to hold on, because he was still recovering from punishment.

“Lan Zhan, Lan… Zhan, we have to… get out of… er-gege—!” and Wei Wuxian tried to talk sense as his hips were squeezed by two large hands, but words abandoned him, turning into needy cries smothered against the dip of Lan Wangji’s bare chest.

Feebly he wrapped his arms around Lan Wangji’s neck, his fingers twitching over the scar tissue on Lan Wangji’s back — unquestionable proof in the dark that his husband was with him again — but the rest of him remained helpless. There was no pain for some time in his muscles, because the sex-haze took over entirely.

What came next was hard, fierce, without control.

From the moment he’d arrived, Lan Wangji dominated the hell out of him. It was the hardest fucking Wei Wuxian had ever taken and he was right that anyone could have done what Lan Wangji was doing without his understanding, because he experienced their reunion not on a dirty cavern floor…

…but back in the Jingshi; on their first night back to Cloud Recesses when he’d been fucked in their new bed. Their actual marriage bed was new to him, but not to Lang Wangji, who experienced a spasm of sheerest joy, having dreamed of this exact moment countless times, and then it was finally real. Wei Wuxian had a sense of the significance back then; his mind filled with bright colors and his husband’s subtle smile, and then he’d pulled that white ribbon and threw fuel on the fire and his husband burned into him.

Then there was only Lan Wangji, fucking him open, fucking him raw. It felt like the first time, it felt like the last time, their love-making lasted forever and a day…

…but was actually the fastest fuck they’d ever had, because a handful of thrusts later Lan Wangji’s entire body stiffened. They’d been primed for the scent of each other, teased and held captive to the simmering in their bellies and Wei Wuxian had followed him right over, spurting up onto his husband’s bare body. They’d shuddered violently together, hot and sticky and drenched in scent… and then Lan Wangji was pulling out after just one round, which was unusual.

Languid and loose, Wei Wuxian heard the wet sound of their parting, obscene in the quiet. In the midst of a brief lull of arousal — which his husband barely experienced thanks to his golden core — Wei Wuxian breathed deep, drawing in more of his husband’s comforting scent. He mewled his happiness, his relief, wordlessly because he was slick in all the right places, wreathed in musk and was happy for it, because Lan Wangji smelled like love and longing and safety personified.

Wei Wuxian’s legs twitched as Lan Wangji’s weight was adjusted higher, his hips shifting and spreading wider to accommodate his husband’s toned ass smooshing into Wei Wuxian’s belly.

 “Wha?”

The haze finally cleared enough for structured thought, leaving Wei Wuxian to flounder in the arms of cold reality. Coming back to his senses, Wei Wuxian could feel his body trembling from the force of his orgasm. He felt reamed out and half-drunk on pheromones.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, I’m so glad you’re back,” he cried, pitifully so. “It’s been so miserable without you!”

There was no answer. Cool air gusted over his cock, balls, and ass, informing him that his lower body was now coated in a very familiar mess. There was a tremble and random clenches in Lan Wangji’s ass too, suggesting he was enjoying the last dregs of his own high, just as affected as Wei Wuxian… but the moment passed lightning-quick for Lan Wangji.

Wei Wuxian blinked in the darkness when Lan Wangji began pawing over him, seemingly taking responsibility. He could feel his husband’s hands roaming his body with some urgency, fingers disappearing in the dark only to return coated with something both slick and sticky, which he worked into Wei Wuxian’s skin with feverish intensity. He was particularly aggressive over the spots that Fèngfēng had dripped on him.

Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure, but it seemed less that Lan Wangji was worried about injury and more that he was making sure Wei Wuxian was coated from head to toe with Lan Wangji’s own scent. Fingers rubbed and smeared down his body, adding to his already amazing stench... especially when more warm splatters came, pattering over his belly. Apparently scent was super serious business. His nose wrinkled as his husband's hands spread a heady mix of wet musk down his belly all the way to his nethers, which Wei Wuxian found strangely hilarious.

“Ai-yah, it’s because you can smell Fèngfēng on me, yeah? It’s not my fault, Lan Zhan! He kidnapped me! Good thing you found me, because things were looking really bad there for a while! I couldn’t get away from — ouch! — hey Lan Zhan, ouch! — stop that Lan Zhan, you are rubbing there too hard!”

Limp-wristed, Wei Wuxian still managed to slap Lan Wangji’s hands away, because they were rubbing over his cock, balls, and hole with too much force. It was as if Lan Wangji was offended to smell Fèngfēng anywhere near Wei Wuxian’s sensitive places, but that wasn’t really fair.

That wasn’t the only unusual thing.

Lan Wangji was acting rather… unkind. Thoughtlessly, effortlessly unkind. His grasping fingers felt much like the Zuìchū, but stronger, painful even. The strength in his fingers was entirely unrestrained. Already he’d left deep bruises wherever he’d grasped, which was also entirely unlike him.

Wei Wuxian had yet to realize the extent of the damage. He was still sex-drunk and too quick to forgive; too busy trembling in relief to know his husband had been the one to claim him in the darkness. It was unbearable to consider any other possibility. As the moments passed, Wei Wuxian came back to full consciousness and began babbling up at Lan Wangji.

There was no response from Lan Wangji — no sound at all. That, at least, wasn’t abnormal. Foolishly Wei Wuxian filled the air between them with his relieved nonsense, relaxing into a steady prattle as was his wont, telling his husband everything that he’d discovered and realized; that they were trapped and needed to find some place to hide, that this horror wouldn’t last forever, that they just had to survive until they were finally summoned back.

Then Lan Wangji pressed close to smell Wei Wuxian’s neck again, as if trying to memorize his scent and embed it so deep into his hindbrain that he could recognize the warm body beneath him in the dark as if he couldn’t remember until this moment what he smelled like.

Wei Wuxian missed the nuance entirely and mouthed noisy kisses against Lan Wangji’s cheek, which startled his feral husband. More unusual behaviour; normally the two of them traded kisses as easily as breathing.

Nose wrinkling, Lan Wangji snuffed over Wei Wuxian’s face, warily so.

“Why so nervous?” whispered Wei Wuxian against his mouth, trying to offer more kisses. “I’m not the one who does all the biting! Come here and let me kiss you some more — I missed you!”

In the happiness of the moment, Wei Wuxian forgot everything. He forgot his returning muscle aches, forgot his hunger, he even forgot the need to be quiet. All that mattered was he was reunited with Lan Wangji. He wasn’t even that worried about other men now, because it seemed they feared his husband. Everything was going to be alright now, and so Wei Wuxian prattled on and on.

But it seemed Lan Wangji had less confidence. Especially as, in the distance, the vicious fighting was dying down once more. Whatever had happened to the men trapped in the sub-cave was largely finished. The quieter things became, the further sounds travelled, such that silence was becoming critical for those who didn’t want unwelcome company. The smaller Zuìchū would stay away, but the stronger ones…

It was time to leave.

Finally Wei Wuxian remembered this, especially when Lan Wangji tried to lift Wei Wuxian up to drag him away. He started by pulling Wei Wuxian along the ground, as if he expected Wei Wuxian to keep up with him, only to startle when Wei Wuxian yelped as rocks dug into his back.

—being dragged hurt!

It was time to leave, they needed to leave. Lan Wangji insisted to pull Wei Wuxian away into the darkness, but grew frustrated when the babble merely intensified. For his part, Wei Wuxian happily chattered up at Lan Wangji, even as his body slumped uselessly as if his bones had melted:

“Lan Zhan, even now you truly are such a gentleman! I think it’s so much better that you are expecting me to follow instead of just throwing me over your shoulder like some sort of brute, but actually, your shoulder is the better plan. You remember the demon array and the ones that are watching us? They punished me again, so now I can’t walk, so you better just pick me up and carry me away, I don’t care how; over your shoulder or like a wife, or any other way, but maybe not dragging, that really hurts—”

Lan Wangji seemed attracted by the chatter, just as much as he was disturbed by the feebleness. He settled back down again, planting his ass on Wei Wuxian’s belly in a protective and possessive crouch. He situated his body between his rivals and his captive husband, his face inches from Wei Wuxian’s chattering mouth while trying to understand the source of the injury. And he kept hesitating, becoming more upset by the moment, because Wei Wuxian was clearly wounded, weirdly boneless, and wouldn’t stop making noise.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, come on, we need to go now! Be a good boy, pick me up — we need to leave right now!”

Actually, they should’ve already left, should have fucked right off into the darkness and the fact that they weren’t gone was entirely because something was wrong with Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji seemed to suffer enormous confusion. He held Wei Wuxian down instead, keeping Wei Wuxian smooshed beneath him while investigating his body thoroughly. The noises Wei Wuxian insisted on making weren’t helping matters in the slightest.

Unsettled, Lan Wangji kept half-turning towards the distant disturbance, as if he was expecting attackers at any moment. When the darkness remained clear, he finally turned back and… and… and Wei Wuxian started squealing when Lan Wangji started nuzzling and then licking him. His regal Hanguang-Jun was nuzzling over his skin and licking anything that smelled wounded with his tongue. Without the slightest hesitation he licked downwards without pause. It was disgusting, but adorable, and also, just completely disgusting. His poor feral husband was out of his mind.

“Stop — stop Lan Zhan!” cried Wei Wuxian, embarrassed to be comforted, consoled, and cleansed in such an animalistic way. His voice went up a few octaves when a wet tongue lathed industriously over his rapidly hardening shaft and balls. He’d enjoyed that hot mouth in those places before, but the intent was so different that he couldn’t help but squirm. “This is why the gods invented water! Lan Zhan, water is for washing — not mouths! Lan Zhan! Lan Zhaaan!”

It was just too much to tolerate.

No one will ever believe me, thought Wei Wuxian, with a burst of loving exasperation. Not that he would ever tell anyone. He tried to wiggle out from under Lan Wangji to escape the embarrassing attention, but made no progress, partly because he could hardly move, but also because Lan Wangji wouldn’t let him move.

Meanwhile, Lan Wangji was struggling to manage. He was reacting in duality to Wei Wuxian’s sounds. He protectively nuzzled over Wei Wuxian’s mouth as if concerned that something was wrong with him. Hence all the concerned licking, which wasn’t resolving the issue… however, Lan Wangji also needed those noises to stop, for what should have been obvious reasons.

It was just that Wei Wuxian’s impulsive side had taken over, spurred on by a heady mix of excitement and relief. Instead of shutting up, Wei Wuxian did the exact opposite and chattered even louder.

“Lan Zhan, listen — we should go. It won’t be long before the other ferals show up! We should leave now, huh Lan Zhan? Here now, let me up! Lan Zhaaan! Help me rub some dirt over myself. It’s a good trick that will help keep them from following us. I can’t manage, I need your help. Here, grab some dirt and help me, my fingers aren’t working—”

They were well beyond the point that Lan Wangji would have cast a silence charm on Wei Wuxian, if he’d been capable of such a thing. Lan Wangji grew desperate, shifting back and forth aggressively in place of the useful things he couldn’t remember to do. And, instead of realizing some critically important truths that Lan Wangji was explaining non-verbally, and more egregiously, in the place of adjusting to his reality around his husband’s new particularities and extreme limitations, Wei Wuxian continued to chatter without pause.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” babbled Wei Wuxian happily, his insides a slushy mess of spend and slick, his saliva-drenched face bright with happiness. “We should leave now, so go ahead and drag me off to your cave somewhere. I take it all back; you can do whatever you want to me, lick me to death, I don’t care—”

Except Wei Wuxian did care.

Wei Wuxian cared a whole lot, actually. He cared when Lan Wangji slapped the palm of his hand over Wei Wuxian’s mouth hard enough to bruise. He cared when the blow was so harsh that his teeth cut into his lip and blood beaded in his mouth. Especially when his head was shaken back and forth by the palm over his mouth-hole — which was still making dangerous noises! — and now even louder noises, because Wei Wuxian was protesting this treatment at the top of his lungs.

There was a growing desperation in Lan Wangji’s movements, but still no actual sounds. His weight was heavy on Wei Wuxian’s belly, even as Wei Wuxian rocked side to side, some movement returning as the cramping pain finally leveled off.

Wei Wuxian stopped short of biting, of genuinely hurting his husband, even when Lan Wangji practically stuffed his fist into Wei Wuxian’s incredulous mouth. “Lan Zhan!” he shrieked around stifling fingers, those beloved long fingers which withdrew only to return as disbelieving, disheartened slaps, “—Lan Zhan, stop hitting! Stop hitting, Lan Zhan! Lan ZhanLanZhanLanZhanLanZhan—!”

Lan Wangji seemed to realize at this point that Wei Wuxian was not going to be silenced, no matter what. That left a frantic flight across the entire cavern as the only option, with every strong rival quick to give chase. Frustrated, he gathered Wei Wuxian too harshly, shaking him as if to force him to be quiet, clearly still confused by the strange looseness of Wei Wuxian’s body…

…and Wei Wuxian was still protesting, squirming strangely with only sections of his body under control, frantically trying to avoid the angry hands that were gathering him while failing to smother his near-hysterical noises. Then, once again, the consequences of Wei Wuxian’s actions promptly appeared, exactly as he should have predicted and entirely as Lan Wangji had known and tried to prevent.

A sudden snarl announced the end of their marital spat.

Lan Wangji found himself under attack by Fèngfēng, who seemed quite taken with Wei Wuxian, such that any trace of him was being followed like a bloodhound. Having chased off the younger crowd, he'd circled back around and caught Wei Wuxian's scent, until Wei Wuxian's noise meant he hadn't needed to come in slow. And unlike the youngsters, Fèngfēng seemed fearless.

Lan Wangji fell to the ground with Fèngfēng’s charge, sending Wei Wuxian crashing beneath him. Then Lan Wangji launched himself off Wei Wuxian’s body and vanished with Fèngfēng into the dark, drawn away by his rival. There was a certain sort of hatred in his movements as he threw himself after Fèngfēng to drive him away, suggesting they might have a personal history.

And Wei Wuxian was still making noise. He cried out in protest — “I didn’t mean you should leave, just stop hurting me!!” — before clamping a hand over his own lips, much as Lan Wangji had, but with a sane amount of force. Oh, yeah, right. I should stop talking.

Wei Wuxian winced even as his mind filled with excuses for his misbehavior, trying to justify why he’d made so much noise. Is it really my fault if I have so much to say? Lan Zhan has to bear some responsibility too!

After chastising himself, Wei Wuxian wiggled in the dark, smothering moans for the receding pain of his slowly unclenching muscles. He missed the sex-haze that had brought him such wonderful relief, even as he began crawling away elbow-over-elbow. He managed to rub his neck against the ground and wriggle his front into the dirt, so that the other Zuìchū wouldn’t find him so easily… and there were plenty of Zuìchū bothering Lan Wangji now.

Wei Wuxian’s foolishness had brought them down from the surrounding sub-caves. They were swarming in small groups. He could hear Lan Wangji dealing with them, now that he knew to listen for the silent ghost in the darkness; the nothingness amidst the sounds of fighting that made the battle sound one-sided.

Shaking and admonishing himself, Wei Wuxian shivered for the cracks of distant bones being broken. His husband’s brutality was unmatched by the ferals around him. Unnerved, he really began coating his neck with grit again. He dirtied himself until his alluring scent was gone, while rolling up the last of his clothing — who cared that he was naked when no one could see him!— and damming up the smell as he absolutely must.

Stop stinking and shut up!

Finally, Wei Wuxian faced the fact that he’d been acting outrageously, making things worse. After promising he would behave better — complete with promising fingers upraised — he staggered to his feet and headed back to help Lan Wangji deal with the attackers. That was his intention, anyway. But curiously the fighting ended not long after he’d covered himself in dirt. He didn’t dare shout into the darkness.

Meanwhile, Lan Wangji had vanished.

-o-o-o-

Later, after hiding in a space between rock formations, Wei Wuxian’s disappointment settled heavily upon his shoulders. Naked and nervous, he listened for any trace of the men he’d just met, but heard nothing; only an ominous silence. He felt bad for the unfortunate group. The cave wall had been a good idea, but also a complete disaster. Instinctively he wanted to blame himself. He dropped his head into his hands, mournfully. He’d only spent a short time with them, but he was still shaken.

Hopefully some of them thought to play dead, and Wei Wuxian remembered how some had covered themselves with dirt as he’d instructed. It might be enough to save a few of them. He could only hope so.

Wei Wuxian wasn’t the praying sort. He didn’t have paper money, lanterns, or anything to even start a fire with. He couldn’t waste time sneaking back to bury the bodies, but he still felt awful for them.

It was a horrible lesson that Wei Wuxian wouldn’t forget: Stay alert, don’t get trapped in small spaces, don’t be smelly, and most importantly don’t make noise. That last one was a work in progress for him.

Wei Wuxian touched his lips mournfully, only to be betrayed by his stomach, which grumbled loudly. He was so very hungry. There still wasn’t any method for finding food, but that was a problem that could wait awhile longer.

It seemed best to keep moving.

-o-o-o-

Wei Wuxian kept to himself after that.

His rescue and brief reunion with Lan Wangji was so reassuring. It was a relief to realize that Lan Wangji was handling the dark so much better than he was. Regardless, he was still mad about all the hitting and fisting, but at the same time he understood. Still begrudging the blood in his mouth and the bruises puffing his face, he nevertheless realized that he’d caused more problems than solutions.

Even worse, he couldn't summon the slightest bit of resentment.

He was truly mundane.

Sitting there on a sharp rock in the dark, cold and hungry in every way, facing what was now an indeterminate time of captivity as demonic entertainment, Wei Wuxian was forced to contend with his new reality: he was still husbandless, completely naked, trapped in a hole without any cultivation abilities, almost too famished to think straight, being hunted mercilessly by men who’d do horrible things to him if caught, not to mention being sore from punishment again — and there seemed no end in sight. All of that amounted to a momentary breakdown that ended in a flailing, but silent tantrum.

Silent because Wei Wuxian was mad, not crazy. When his stomping up and down sent something skittering away, he slapped his hand down and smashed the little thing.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

There hadn’t been any edible food in the Burial Grounds, either. Nothing he’d recognized as food anyway, until necessity gave him a new definition of ‘edible.’ Back then, he’d done what he had to do to survive. Now was no different. Under his fingers, what he’d smashed was still wiggling.

I hate these things.

There was nothing better. Teeth clenched, Wei Wuxian gathered up the mess and carefully removed every twitching leg. There was no nutrition in those, so he didn’t have to bother. He grimaced, but remembered how this worked. Carefully, he balled up the mess and pressed it to the back of his throat where he couldn’t taste it so much.

It was shocking how appreciative his stomach was. It gurgled merrily and he sighed, mentally accepting that any more skittering would have to be chased down. He also revived an old game he’d played with himself during those three months trapped in the burial mounds, naming the things he would eat as the food item he missed the most, back when he was lost in twilight. Hopefully I stir up more steamed buns as I go. Would rather not hunt for them, but better snatch them up when I can. Have to keep my strength up.

If only his steamed buns didn’t have legs.

-o-o-o-

The next time Wei Wuxian woke after sleeping was in the wake of a wet dream…

Lan Zhan was naked. They were cuddled in bed, safe and warm in the Jingshi, half under the blankets. Wei Wuxian was murmuring silly things as Lan Zhan pulled him back onto his cock for another round. He was rocking back, really getting into it when the dream took an odd turn. Lan Zhan plunged in deep and came hard, but his cry was uncharacteristic.

He sounded like another man…

That jolted Wei Wuxian awake. He gasped and clutched at his backside, beneath the new set of rags he'd repurposed from a corpse with no meat on it's stinking bones. His mind shied away, preoccupied with the ache from behind, which felt distressingly hollow and needy for his husband.

That was one realistic dream, and Wei Wuxian really wished Lan Wangji had just dragged him away like a brute instead of wasting time worrying over him and listening to his nonsense. What was he thinking about, to indulge me at a time like this?

Disoriented, Wei Wuxian rubbed at his eyes in the pitch-black. He cursed himself for waking too soon. He considered taking his aching cock in hand for a little relief, maybe work some fingers into his backside until his body stopped bothering him, until he remembered where he was.

Worse yet, the sound that woke him came again. Yelping in panic, Wei Wuxian realized he must’ve been making pleasured noises in his sleep. He slapped a hand over his mouth, and then threw his hands up in an outraged panic when thudding footsteps came thundering towards him. It was not his proudest moment. Actually, he was having a lot of those moments, lately.

A few thrown rocks misdirected the Zuìchū away.

What now?

Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure. He really hadn’t liked how Lan Wangji was so rough with him. He was covered in bruises and his bottom lip was still swollen. It was completely unlike his husband to be so ferocious towards him.

You promised you would never hit me, thought Wei Wuxian, rubbing at his mouth fearfully.

Lan Wangji never broke his promises.

But it wasn’t Lan Wangji’s fault, not really. Wei Wuxian remembered the feral look on Lan Wangji’s face as the lights went out. His Lan Wangji was such a perfect Hanguang-Jun. His mind couldn’t reconcile the idea that his big beautiful cabbage might be a genuine threat to him.

What else could Wei Wuxian do, but go hunting again? What else was there to do, but sort the most needful thing in his life right now — which was the miserable state of being husbandless? Realistically, he couldn’t stay away and leave well enough alone. That wasn’t his nature, but at least he could be smart about confronting Lan Wangji again. And so he took up the hunt once more.

This time Wei Wuxian stopped calling for Lan Zhan entirely, because that was bringing too much unwanted attention. The best possible chance of finding him in the dark would be to start hunting the Zuìchū.

Wei Wuxian began to investigate the few fights within reach, however quietly. He was usually able to figure out the combatants weren’t his husband by sound alone. That meant he could avoid needlessly tangling with other men. Occasionally the fighting was quiet enough he had to take greater risks and approach them close enough to make sure.

Three more sleeps went by without a single trace of Lan Wangji, but after the fourth sleep and during one such approach, a familiar sound finally caught his attention. He’d heard the fighting break out not far from his position. Encouragingly, there was only one Zuìchū making noise, while the other was completely silent.

It seemed promising, and then hope was reborn when a scent wafted to Wei Wuxian’s nose that had his blood singing. Intertwined with that strong, familiar musk was the faint scent of sandalwood!

Lan Zhan!

The hair on the back of Wei Wuxian’s neck stood on end and he rushed towards the two battling men. Every warning and caution and all the promises he’d sworn to behave went straight out the window — including that Lan Wangji was feral and had to be approached carefully. Including that Wei Wuxian himself didn’t smell like a Zuihou anymore, thanks to his muddy-spa treatments. For a moment all these things left his mind like a bird flees a cage, because he just wanted his husband.

“Lan Zhan!”

Lan Wangji and the Zuìchū were still fighting.

Remembering he needed to be quiet at the last moment, Wei Wuxian slapped a hand over his mouth.

Shut up!

Lan Wangji and the other Zuìchū were locked in what sounded like a death struggle and neither could pay any attention to anything else. His nose filled with the scents of sandalwood and angry, unwashed Lan the closer he came. Lan Zhan smelled filthy. Wei Wuxian was having a serious, visceral reaction over it.

His hands were shaking.

Reaching out, a trembling Wei Wuxian explored both of them. They were wrestling fiercely, bracing their weight and trying to overwhelm each other. He noted a third body on the ground, only knowable for his death gurgles. As he scented the scene, he recognized the heavy breathing he was hearing.

Lan Wangji was fighting Fèngfēng again. Thankfully Fèngfēng was too distracted to give Wei Wuxian much mind. They were struggling furiously with each other, seeming equally matched, even though Fèngfēng was the heavier man. The wrestling itself was noisy, the ground scattering beneath their feet.

Wei Wuxian struggled to follow the fighting without feeling what was happening. The heavy breathing was bouncing back off the cavern walls, making it hard to figure out who was where. The scents of the two men were also intertwined and they were moving so furiously that Wei Wuxian resorted to using his hands to try and figure out which man was which.

A few nervous gropes confirmed the man currently to the right of Wei Wuxian was too heavyset to be Lan Wangji… but oh, the second man. He was beautiful under Wei Wuxian’s fingers, even the scar tissue on his back was beautiful, the pure scent on his hot skin turning Wei Wuxian’s mind inside out. There was no question.

This was Lan Wangji!

‘Er-gege!’ shouted Wei Wuxian silently in his mind, because the last thing he wanted was to make things worse for his poor husband, who seemed hard pressed. Not like last time. This time he was behaving himself. This time his troublesome scent was wholly contained. Right now he was more a ghost in the dark than Lan Wangji was!

Wei Wuxian’s heart leapt in his chest and an unseen, but otherwise brilliant smile nearly cracked his face. Surely Lan Wangji had missed him as much as he’d missed his big cabbage and now they were together again. He struck at Fèngfēng, breaking his hold and kicking Fèngfēng back so that Lan Wangji was freed. Then he threw caution to the wind as his arms encircled around his big beautiful husband—  

Looking back, Wei Wuxian regretted that moment for the rest of his time in the darkness, because as silent as he was, with the dirt ground into his skin and everything else, he’d known he wasn’t recognizable. He knew his husband was feral. There was no reason that Lan Wangji would recognize him as anything other than a Zuìchū. He just hadn’t thought the situation through. He’d tried to make up for his mistakes and overcompensated; he should never have acted so brazen around anyone suffering that affliction. But he was convinced that somehow things would be different, because they were married and loved each other and nothing could ever—

Lan Wangji reacted instantly.

Because of course Lan Wangji took a stranger grappling him for a threat. As fast as Lan Wangji felt the second set of hands encircling his body, he was already in motion. He grabbed the nearest of Wei Wuxian’s slim wrists and squeezed so brutally that Wei Wuxian yelped and then shrieked as the bone fractured with an audible sound.

Crack!

Wei Wuxian was flung bodily away, crying out in agony. He rolled there, trying to stifle his moans of pain. Fortunately Fèngfēng rallied after hearing his soft cries and took Lan Wangji’s attention back, such that by the time the agony in his wrist subsided to a manageable roar, Fèngfēng and Lan Wangji had vanished back into the darkness.

I need to rethink this, thought Wei Wuxian after crawling away. He rolled onto his back and stayed there. Rocking back and forth, he clutched his broken wrist to his breast. It was a bad break. He could feel the skin growing hot, could feel it stretching as his wrist swelled beneath the fingers of his other hand. I can’t manage this. I can’t take any more serious injuries. I don’t know how long we will be trapped here with no doctors or medicines. I’m… getting too weak to take these sorts of risks anymore.

It seemed Lan Zhan was more than capable of handling himself. It was also apparent that he didn’t properly recognize his husband anymore.

Lan Wangji was a threat.

I want to go home and Wei Wuxian whined soundlessly up at the cavern ceiling. His eyes teared at the edges. I want to go back to Cloud Recesses and the Jingshi. I want Lan Zhan to wake me up at stupid o’clock in the morning and give me a bath and give me kisses. I’ll even be grateful to eat their awful tasteless food! I won’t complain for a whole year if I could go back right now and he held out three fingers of his good hand in promise towards the ceiling. He wasn’t even sure who he was begging — he’d known in his heart since the time of the Burial Mounds that the gods didn’t give a shit whether he lived or died — but he was really upset.

Wei Wuxian shivered as some harsh realities became too painful to ignore. His wrist was broken and throbbing, which was a huge setback. It wasn’t Lan Zhan’s fault. He knew that, but regardless, here he was, dangerously wounded, in a place where wounds couldn’t be treated, where foolish mistakes carried the very real threat of death.

“Fuck me,” moaned Wei Wuxian mournfully, unwrapping the cloth around his waist to make a sling for his wrist instead. That left him naked again, but whatever.

It took longer before Wei Wuxian regained control of his emotions and could consider the situation rationally. If Lan Wangji wasn’t able to control his strength — or just didn’t realize that he needed to because he couldn’t see the results of his rough handling — or wasn’t capable of understanding why Wei Wuxian was trying to wriggle free or break his hold and perceived it as aggression instead, well it was neither here nor there.

Because Lan Wangji was handling himself brilliantly.

Wei Wuxian, not so much.

Alright, the important thing is Lan Zhan is doing okay. I should focus on getting us out of here, and failing that, just try to stay alive and out of harm’s way. I’ll have to find a way to protect Lan Zhan from a distance. Just need to figure out where he is hiding and stay close enough to be near him, but far enough away that he can’t hurt me. Together, but separate, until we are summoned back.

I’m on my own here and I need to start acting like it. Sighing down at his tension-wrung body, completely invisible in the dark, he resigned himself to being alone for the duration.

Chapter Text

It hadn’t taken Wei Wuxian long to reconsider staying away.

He couldn’t do it. 

“Together but separate,” was Wei Wuxian’s new mantra, along with “safety first.” This time he did things differently; refraining from interfering or touching. His priorities had changed and now his own wellbeing came first. 

Having decided, Wei Wuxian slowed down and took better care of himself. First, he scavenged more cloth, enough to reinforce the sling to immobilize his broken wrist and to wrap around his hips for modesty, with a strip of cloth as a ribbon to keep his hair up and out of his way. Next, he hid away and huddled down for a decent sleep, which came slowly for his stiff, aching wrist. He grew fastidious about locating water and bathing after every sleep. His mud-spa treatments followed immediately after, keeping him indistinguishable from his surroundings. 

Food remained a serious problem; chasing after scuttling steamed buns meant he was routinely side-tracked. Alas, there was never enough that he received any respite from hunger. Each time he scrubbed himself was a harrowing adventure where he discovered new deprivations that he shouldn’t be able to feel, becoming exposed like a receding coastal tide that took his vitality with it. I can feel the spaces between my ribs now, and that made him uneasy. He still refused to consider any other options, unlike the men trapped here with him. 

Eating other people was a bridge too far.

A few sleeps later, Wei Wuxian finally found what he was looking for. He caught a hint of sandalwood and traced Lan Wangji back to a pool in a distant corner of the main cavern. There was an open space behind that reeked of angry cabbage — puddles splashed absolutely everywhere as if in declaration of war — as far from others as possible. He’d had to give them a wide berth to keep from falling over and writhing under the throes of a wet dream.

It was obvious that Lan Wangji was ruling over this area as his own territory. These puddles are meant to warn other ferals away, he thought, sniffing with a wrinkled nose. The scent infused his senses such that warmth pooled low in his belly. It was going to be a constant thing, because like it or not, he was moving in. I suppose I'll get used to the feeling, and so he forced himself to ignore the occasional twitch of interest from his cock and other, deeper places. He had encountered the same sort of mess outside other side-caves. It was disgusting, but he appreciated the warning, regardless. 

“Such a messy Hanguang-Jun,” laughed Wei Wuxian.

Smothering his amusement, Wei Wuxian moved a few paces away and sat on a rock there… and then a whisper of air stirred strands of his hair. The tale-tell sensation was laughingly minuscule, but he knew exactly what it meant. The little hairs on the back of his neck stood up for the sudden surge of anxiety he experienced.

“Lan Zhan,” he mouthed, soundlessly. 

Then Wei Wuxian held his breath as Lan Wangji thoroughly investigated the spot he’d just been, where the music of words had come from. The air currents stirred with the movement of Lan Wangji's body, stirred further by the flutter and flying of his long hair as he darted between and over rocks. Love and fear warred in Wei Wuxian’s belly as the air continued to kiss over his skin. He exhaled silently as Lan Wangji cast out in slow circles, searching the darkness to find him.

What happens then?

Wei Wuxian was sure it would be another attack. It would come as a sudden, severe pounce that would end with another broken bone, or perhaps a broken neck. What will that do to Hanguang-Jun when he returns as a widow? When he remembers what he’s done? He shivered and resolved to make sure it would never come to pass.

Reaching down, Wei Wuxian took up a handful of bone-pebbles at his feet. Rolling them between his fingers, he started tossing them in short succession, leading away towards the main cavern. He made it sound like someone was fleeing and was gratified when the air currents surged that direction. 

The ghost in the dark had taken his bait.

“Sorry, Lan Zhan,” mouthed Wei Wuxian silently as the air currents settled and he smoothed the hairs on his neck with the fingers of his good hand. “I love you so much, husband mine, but you are too much man for me right now!”

His half-hard cock and the hollow deeper inside begged to differ, but he was getting used to functioning with a low-thrumming arousal. It wasn’t something that masturbation could quiet, he had long since discovered. The only relief and satiation he’d ever experienced from the pheromone simmer was when Lan Wangji had wrung pleasure from his body and filled his belly, saturating his senses. The satisfaction had lingered, and there was no other source. His own hands merely made his need worse, and so it became just another thing to endure. 

Climbing down from his rock, Wei Wuxian took care to stay quiet. He was also careful to move slowly and avoid jostling his broken wrist, which was slow to heal. His arm was tucked snuggly to his breast and wrist immobile, but any touches still left him wincing. The pain had long since receded to a bearable ache, so long as he didn’t bump himself unduly.

It was a constant reminder, though.

Time to find a nice place to hide away until this misery is over. Somewhere close to Lan Zhan but not too close, decided Wei Wuxian, feeling a surge of contentment. It’s risky, but if I can’t be with him, at least I can be close enough to sense him. 

It was enough, because it had to be.

-o-o-o-

The next few sleeps were restful ones. 

Wei Wuxian found a crevice in a huge stalagmite that was big enough for him to tuck into and sleep. All sense of urgency had completely abandoned him by that point, now that he remained within his husband’s unwitting keeping. It only returned when he heard the tell-tale skittering of a passing steamed bun. 

And so Wei Wuxian took his sweet time exploring the area. He committed the landmarks to memory so he could move at speed, if needed. Much of his time was spent perched on rocks, trying to meditate while treating any moving air currents like kisses, smiling for each caress. 

It was during this time that Wei Wuxian devised a way to stay safer around Lan Wangji. He knew his husband was a creature of habit. The trick was figuring out his routine, but once he knew where to find Lan Wangji, he was able to figure out a system. It involved him sitting on a rock in the middle of the cavern for a stupid amount of time with no sleep and a handful of pebbles. Periodically throughout that time, he threw pebbles out into the cavern and marked from where his husband lunged after them. 

Lan Wangji never failed to respond to any sound, because nothing moved within their underground prison without reason.  

So far Lan Wangji had only caught hints of Wei Wuxian’s presence. Regardless, each slip of a foot or pebble-scatter brought the ghost in the dark down upon him within moments. Air currents were the only warning, becoming a dangerous game that kept Wei Wuxian from perilous boredom. Sometimes, purely for the pleasure of knowing Lan Zhan was near, he would toss a pebble a dangerous few paces away. Then he would hunker down with a smile, waiting for the gust of air movement that meant his husband was right next to him, investigating the disturbance. The hardest part for him was to keep from laughing and giving himself away.

In this way, Wei Wuxian weaved himself into the circadian rhythm of Lan Wangji’s life. After being reasonably sure where his husband was likely to be at any point during their now matching sleeps, he stopped tormenting with pebbles, except when he needed Lan Zhan to clear out so he could leave to hunt for steam buns.

Leaving and returning was the most perilous time for Wei Wuxian, where any hint of sound was most dangerous. He understood that Lan Zhan couldn’t afford to let rivals creep up on him. He was well aware that there were always rivals about. He also understood his husband’s dedication to murdering the hell out of anyone that came to bother him. 

Wei Wuxian imagined some of them were hoping for a meal…

Every few sleeps, Wei Wuxian would bear witness to an incursion. Sometimes groups of nervous younger Zuìchū would come surging in. But other times, stronger and solitary ones like Fèngfēng would test Lan Zhan’s boundaries. These attacks felt more like raids, because the ferals would come in hard and fast. They would surge as deep into Lan Zhan’s territory as they could, as if searching for something or someone to steal. 

Lan Zhan drove them away with extreme violence.

Pain was a great teacher, and so Wei Wuxian never interfered, except to throw the occasional rock, suppressing a he-he-he when he scored a hit. Several times he’d failed to suppress such noise. Each time, he noticed how — after driving his rivals away — Lan Wangji would spend meticulous amounts of time searching the darkness. 

Are you hunting for a rival, wondered Wei Wuxian, motionless, as Lan Wangji passed perilously close, or are you hunting for me?

It was neither here nor there.  

Determined never to find out, and thus possibly suffering beneath his feral husband’s wrath, Wei Wuxian kept as emotionally close and as physically far apart as he possibly could. As dangerous as Lan Wangji was, his territory was still safer than anywhere else. He only dared leave Lan Wangji’s keeping to hunt down steamed buns, but always returned immediately thereafter. The sound of trickling water oriented him, coming from Wangji’s pool that overflowed on the side closest to the cavern wall.   

It was so nice to be close to water! 

Wei Wuxian could drink any time he wanted, though bathing was more fraught. Beneath the little trickle of water he found another little hollow, carved smooth by eons of flowing water. It was large enough to sit cross-legged and be submerged to mid-thigh. It was there that he took glacier-slow baths, handful after slow handful with his good hand. He relied on slow movements and the trickling noise to keep Lan Wangji from noticing him.

Thrilled to be co-habituating once more, Wei Wuxian had assumed the pool was his husband’s main spot. He guessed that his husband was sleeping somewhere against the cavern wall (often imagining creeping in and sleeping with him in the dark and leaving before he awoke, though that seemed a great way to get dead very fast) but as the sleeps passed, he discovered the puddles were more of a distraction.

Numerous sleeps after finding Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian realized via air currents that his husband always returned to a certain spot after his patrols. It was while rolling and wiggling all higgledy-piggledy in that spot, stifling giggles that his husband would know he’d been there and thus the angry air currents would be especially entertaining while trying to hunt him down without any scent trail to follow, that he discovered a narrow, but towering crack in the wall behind the pool. The crack was nerve-wracking to navigate. It took another handful of sleeps of careful surveillance — between hunting down skittering steamed buns — before he gathered enough nerve to risk crawling through. Once inside, he discovered that the towering crack was actually an opening into another chamber, roughly the size of Jinlintai’s great hall.

I’ve found his sanctuary!

It was thrilling and Wei Wuxian’s heart skipped a beat. This is where he’s been all this time when I can’t find him! Delighted, he painstakingly explored the inside of the chamber that was Lan Wangji’s sanctuary. It’s here he retreats when he wants to sleep or when he’s sick of fighting people! 

The exploration felt intimate, like Wei Wuxian was rifling through his husband’s secret things. Time passed without perception as he committed what his hand found to memory. There was a stronger scent emanating out of a sunken hole. That was how he discovered his husband’s actual sleeping residence, which was a half-buried opening in the sanctuary. Cautious exploration revealed the opening widened into a bedroom-sized nook with a low ceiling, but that was as far as Wei Wuxian knew. He didn’t dare intrude there. Crawling inside would scatter pebbles and alert his husband. While he had a general idea where Lan Wangji was, he’d still been caught out at times. It was too dangerous to go where he could be easily cornered. 

Heh, there’s no puddles in here, noted Wei Wuxian, smiling all smug and stuff, crossing his good hand over his wounded one. There’s no bad smells at all — nothing but Lan Zhan’s own scent. It feels really clean in here! 

This was the Hanguang-Jun he knew!  

And so Wei Wuxian dived deeper, taking up residence in Lan Wangji’s personal sanctuary. He began sleeping in a hollow that he’d painstakingly dug out with one hand beneath two huge flat-ish slabs with overlapped sides. That meant there were two entrances — one from the back and one from the front — so he was never trapped.

If feeling threatened or unsure of a potential threat, Wei Wuxian would slip down into his rocky hollow. Then he would huddle in the bottom, which was just big enough for his body. It was cold and rock-strewn and generally uncomfortable, but still felt safe. His mood improved so much thereafter that his sleep grew deeper and lasted longer, especially as sounds of Zuìchū and their conflicts couldn’t penetrate into Lan Wangji’s sanctuary.  

At first Wei Wuxian only re-emerged from the sanctuary to go hunting for steamed buns, needing nothing else from the main cavern. The sanctuary had its own stream, which was fed from the one out in the main cavern. There was a deep pool down in the bottom, maybe half the size of the Cold Spring, though not so cold. It was deep enough to swim in, perhaps twenty feet deep or so. There was an overhang out on the water. If he swam under that, there was a hollow where he could bob up and breathe. It would be easy to get turned around, but the actual surface was so close that it was unlikely he’d drown himself by mistake. The danger was more in the time it took Wei Wuxian to crawl out of the water. His dirt always washed away to release his scent into the air, which never failed to have Lan Wangji showing up if he was still in the sanctuary to smell it.

Lan Wangji was stupid aggressive that way.

-o-o-o-

There was a question that needed answering. 

How long? 

How long did Wei Wuxian and his angry cabbage have to suffer in the darkness? And his cabbage was angry. There was no question in Wei Wuxian’s mind that Lan Wangji was unhappy with all the other Zuìchū that shared the darkness with him. It was especially apparent from how aggressively he patrolled his little kingdom within the confines of the huge cavern they were trapped in for who-knew-how-long. 

How long do we have to stay like this?  

It was a question that needed answering. The only place where answers could be found was back in the main cavern, where the engraving upon the stones was. It was a dangerous place, but he needed to know.  

Using his memory, Wei Wuxian headed towards the engraved wall, which he’d seen only briefly in the moment of light before punishment landed. Answers came when he found his way to the foot of the great wall and climbed up to feel out the symbols. He’d only seen a few lines and needed whatever answer was carved on the walls. It took time, but more details emerged. They were being sacrificed as part of a peace pact brokered countless centuries past, ending waves upon waves of demonic invasions. Everything that was happening was agreed upon by both parties — heaven and hell — except for the final fate of the sacrifices, which may or may not survive the offering.

Wei Wuxian’s fingers traced over the symbols. He whispered the words to himself and scowled at each new revelation. The scenario grew worse and worse the further down his fingers traced. He wasn’t surprised there was no mention of food, but surely the duration would be recorded—

And then his fingers found what they were looking for.

The answer shocked him. 

Rough-edged symbols decreed the scenario would last a full six months (from their perspective). Wei Wuxian remembered that everyone outside would perceive them as having returned within moments of being summoned. That was how the previous ceremonies had ended. They would have no idea just how long and horrible the “ceremony” actually was. 

“Bloodbath,” Wei Wuxian murmured under his breath, the confirmation making him slap the wall harshly. “Of course they will suppress what happens to us. They have to repeat this same scenario in another few hundred years. They have to gather enough cultivators of sufficient worth to sacrifice; the demons wouldn’t be satisfied with common men. Even if we make a fuss, enough time passes between sacrifices that the royals can suppress the knowledge.”  

Wei Wuxian groped along the rock’s edges, but that seemed the end of the symbols. The immortals don’t care what mortals think of the rite and the imperials obey the immortals. The demons are entertained and everyone wins, except for us poor souls trapped in this hellish place.  

It made sense, didn’t it, that the imperials would keep details sparse while selecting decent-enough cultivators and expendable noblemen such that the demons would consider the sacrifices worthwhile. Two hundred dead men with questionable reputations wouldn’t spark unreasonable amounts of unrest if spread out across all the provinces. This system worked for both immortals and imperials as the parties in power just wanted their horrific appeasement rite finished with a minimum of fuss.

Could or would anyone even try to resist the imperials? Surely any clan who tried would be wiped out? And what could be done to stop this ritual — if even it should be stopped — depending on what evil is being staved off by our sacrifice? Is the loss of hundreds of cultivators with dubious reputations a worthy price for saving potentially millions of innocent people from god-demons?

Wei Wuxian stumbled back from the wall, conflicted and seeing no way out. He was practical enough to understand the value of sacrificing the few for the many; it was the means with which he took issue.

If I could use my cultivation then there might be a way to convert the suppression array into a mass teleportation spell, but not as a mundane under heavy scrutiny. He was especially discouraged because he’d never seen a single trace of any demon to threaten or fight. That meant the situation was truly hopeless. Worse yet, if he was understanding things right, then the Zuihou were meant to be preyed upon by the Zuìchū, who were demonically enhanced to be superior in every way. Six months… it was unreasonable, unthinkable to last that long down here. How could men survive such cruel, brutal treatment for so long a time? 

We can’t. 

There were countless tiny passages in close proximity to each other; a rabbit’s warren of connected caverns and passages and burrows. It meant no one was very far from anyone and with nothing reasonable to catch and eat, that meant there was no respite.  

Wei Wuxian sank to his knees.  

Men can survive without eating for two months at most, so long as they can drink water and they practice strict Inedia, though men with strong golden cores should last longer. But we are facing captivity for six months, which means that no one could reasonably survive without resorting to… 

There seemed nothing further to do, but to survive.

Wei Wuxian felt his best chance of doing exactly that was within a pebble’s reach of his extremely dangerous husband, who could snap him like a twig at any moment. And so he headed back towards his husband’s sanctuary in the far corner of the cavern. 

Wei Wuxian was half-way there when he forgot himself and mumbled aloud, which was happening with alarming frequency lately. He startled himself and slapped his own mouth, then startled again when a soft voice called out to him. That was when he learned that Ling Ping had survived… that Ling Ping was still surviving, having given up on hiding entirely. They greeted each other formally, but his emotions were still raw. He broke down and hugged the other man, who promptly hugged him back.

“How did you survive?” whispered Wei Wuxian.

“Your trick worked,” answered Ling Ping, shivering in the dark for the memory. “It worked for a while, until I had to amend my strategy to survive.”

Ling Ping was reluctant to explain further, but it was easy enough to infer that he was speaking of starvation. After a bit of prodding, because Wei Wuxian was terminally curious, he finally confessed to embracing the inevitable and using his body to maximum effect, only covering himself with dirt while travelling the cavern, as he was doing now. 

Wei Wuxian couldn’t say much. If he could safely whore himself out to his husband and stay warm and safe and fed within the confines of Lan Wangji’s little nook for the duration without being accidentally murdered or fed corpse-meat, he absolutely would have.

“How long have we been here, you think?” asked Wei Wuxian, instead. “At least a few weeks, surely.”

Ling Ping choked on his sudden outrage. “It’s been two months!”

“Can’t have been.”

“I counted!”

“Based on what?”

“I just know.”

Wei Wuxian guessed the truth was somewhere between those numbers, but didn’t argue further. There was no concrete answer, anyway. They bonded further over comparing notes and sharing tricks. Together they lamented their rotten luck and miserable surroundings and then finally parted, but not before working out a way to recognize each other in the dark, after promising to speak again. 

Finally Wei Wuxian reached the edge of Lan Wangji’s territory.

Beyond the scent markers, Wei Wuxian could tell he was committing himself to Lan Wangji’s keeping by the surge in arousal, as if the time spent exposed to his scent had conditioned his body to react in certain ways. The affect was levelling off, somewhat, but he was still sometimes overcome to the point of furious masturbation in his hollow. It was either that, or he was honestly in need of a good fucking. It’s been so long… I wish I could find some way to enjoy him, and him enjoy me, without getting killed!

After pausing in his lamentation to situate himself, Wei Wuxian cried loudly; “Lan Zhan! Oh my Lan Zhan — my wonderful, handsome husband! Do what you have to do to survive! I don’t care what — just stay alive, okay?!”  

Wei Wuxian winced when his voice broke. After repositioning himself against the side of the crack, he waited until a tale-tell gust of wind heavy with scent ruffled his hair, signalling that Lan Wangji had just left the sanctuary to try and track him down. There was even a sound of scattering pebbles, as his husband charged full bore towards the last sound of his voice. 

The sheer aggression took his breath away. 

Oh husband, and Wei Wuxian’s expression grew suddenly fearful. Let me stay alive too, okay? 

Then Wei Wuxian crept through the crack, returning to Lan Wangji’s unwitting keeping.

-o-o-o-

Wei Wuxian continued to meet up with Ling Ping whenever he could. Their system to recognize each other worked well: whenever Wei Wuxian went hunting for steamed buns, he would always pause and whistle a single note, then move away.

Sometimes, a whistle would come back, and then Wei Wuxian and Ling Ping would meet up again and share whatever happenings they’d experienced while apart. Regardless of their strained whispers, these were the first true conversations Wei Wuxian had in some time. He relished every moment.

So far, Ling Ping was the only Zuihou that Wei Wuxian encountered out in the darkness while hunting for steamed buns. But unlike Wei Wuxian, who stayed in the same general area, Ling Ping was continually moving between territories, switching out different Zuìchū as needed, because he was expecting to be fed for suffering through their… affections. When the food ran out, he ran out.

Wei Wuxian didn’t comment, but merely commiserated along with Ling Ping. He was the last person to judge such things. Lately they greeted each other as good friends. They always huddled into the nearest cranny to chat, longer each time they encountered each other. They would whisper together for as long as possible because Wei Wuxian ached for conversation and Ling Ping was in dire need of distraction from his aching body.

It was from Ling Ping, numerous sleeps later, that Wei Wuxian learned there were only maybe thirty Zuìchū left. That shocked him into momentary silence, but speechless was a state that never lasted long.

“So few left, already? Then how many Zuihou are still alive?” asked Wei Wuxian, speaking in the softest whisper. “I sometimes hear things, but haven’t seen any others except for us.” 

“There’s seven of us left,” said Ling Ping with authority, adding, “not counting us two.” His foul breath and body odor wafted into Wei Wuxian’s face. It was fine, because they were both filthy. Though it highlighted the difference between their survival strategies; Ling Ping had embraced his low status and used his scent and complete lack of resistance to keep himself safe, while Wei Wuxian was practicing extreme (dirt-sodden) avoidance. 

“Only seven!” 

“Shhhh, yes. I counted — five of them are sick, laid up in Zuìchū dens and too hurt to escape. Lots of broken arms and legs, infected bites. They get hurt and then the Zuìchū fight over them. If they get taken then the first few days are bad with the new Zuìchū, until they settle down.” 

Wei Wuxian knew exactly what Ling Ping meant when he said ‘bad few days’ and ‘settle down’ though it was more comfortable for them to hide behind euphemisms. Escape from those caves was generally easy enough, whenever the aggressive Zuìchū left to patrol or hunt for food. It wasn’t like they could use tools or strips of cloth beyond making mounds for sleeping on. 

Ling Ping continued: “The other two are hiding together at the other end of the cavern. They’ve never been caught, but it’s just a matter of time. They are both on the verge of madness. They should just come out and get it over with. It’s not so bad if you pick one and head straight into their cave — just don’t let them find you out in the dark. That’s when things get ugly.”

“That’s… happened to you?” Wei Wuxian asked, before considering what a horrible question it actually was.  

The silence from the other man should have been expected. “You haven’t been taken away and held captive?” Ling Ping finally asked, sounding shocked. There was some bitterness in there, too. “Someone I know took me captive first. I can't — it's not — they’re different down here. They aren't people anymore. They do things that they would never — well, they're a pain in the ass, but I’ve gotten used to them.”

“I stick close to this one,” Wei Wuxian whispered, gesturing uselessly behind him. He always avoided saying his husband’s name to protect his reputation. “If I get bad attention, I start screaming and he comes. Always manage to slip away before the fight is over.”

Ling Ping snorted. “Just a matter of time until he hurts you bad. You should pick a different one, this one’s insane.”

Wei Wuxian shook his head in the dark. “I want this one.” 

“Most of them recognize me. I travel around between them easily enough,” Ling Ping confessed, his flinch audible in the blackness. “It's easier when you don't know them,” and then his voice took on a warning tone. “All except this one. He’s too dangerous. I don't like it, but they'll have me regardless. And some of them have food.”

Wei Wuxian swallowed nervously. “There’s no food here…”

“Keep telling me things I already know,” threatened Ling Ping. He seemed on the verge of becoming truly upset. He knew exactly what he’d been eating, what the Zuìchū had been feeding him between bouts of happenings they only hinted at. He was a practical person and that shined through in his suggestions for survival. He wasn't married or devoted to any particular person, so it was easier for him to suggest such for survival, but for Wei Wuxian it wasn't tenable to trade in that way, or even eat what was being offered.

“I’ve been eating bugs,” confessed Wei Wuxian.

“And what are those eating?” Ling Ping demanded. It was a damned good point. “At least my food doesn’t wiggle on the way down.” Another damned good point.

Wei Wuxian shuddered. He didn’t know why, but that tiny degree of separation from what Ling Ping was eating and what he was eating mattered. He was surviving by eating bugs; it wasn’t his business what those bugs were eating. Probably each other, he comforted himself. It seemed the thing to do down here and was just as likely. After all, they were still scuttling around long after the last group of men had been dumped here. The thought of so many people sacrificed so cruelly over the centuries made his heart sink. 

A shower of pebbles pattering over the floor ended their conversation. They’d been heard, finally. Always a matter of when. Moments later they heard the patter of footsteps, heading straight for them. 

It’s not Lan Wangji, and Wei Wuxian flinched. No one ever heard Lan Wangji coming. 

Ling Ping hissed and they immediately separated, creeping off in opposite directions. At first Wei Wuxian thought that he’d lost the intruder. He’d been extremely careful to touch the ground first with his feet and then shift his weight. Several times he’d slipped, faint with hunger, but the sound wasn’t so loud as to bring footsteps running his direction. Convinced everything was fine, he continued on, step after step, but then a shuffling sound a few meters away confirmed the worst. 

He was being stalked. 

It was because Wei Wuxian was struggling to stay quiet. He wanted back with Lan Wangji so badly he was trying to hurry, which was a mistake. He couldn’t tell which of the surviving Zuìchū it was, but only the strongest had survived to this point. Any of them were bad news. Especially Fèngfēng. Slowly, placing each foot with care, he began moving away again. He tried to put space between the hunter and himself. That was his foremost survival strategy now.  

Wei Wuxian’s wounds were gathered when he was found, pounced on, and then made noise while extracting himself from insistent amorous advances. Injuries only happened when he found himself the subject of a dispute between several Zuìchū. Since moving into the sanctuary, it hadn’t been an issue for more sleeps than he could remember. 

Stop being impatient, and Wei Wuxian forced himself to hold still. There’s no medicine here. I have to take better care of myself, for Lan Zhan’s sake, and then he heard scuttling and slapped his hand down. 

The Zuìchū leapt towards the sound. 

Wei Wuxian stuffed the wiggling steamed bun in his mouth and chewed noisily while running as hard as he could towards Lan Wangji’s territory. Relying on his memory, he stayed ahead of his pursuer and even dodged around various obstacles.  

The Zuìchū was not Fèngfēng, because he only chased Wei Wuxian to the edge of Lan Wangji’s territory, and no further. 

-o-o-o-

There weren’t enough skittering steam buns to keep Wei Wuxian from losing weight.  

He was a man and needed to eat a certain amount of calories a day to stay alive. He’d always been a trim person, but he was starting to feel the hard angles of his body in concerning detail. The last time he’d been this thin had been the Burial Mounds. What he couldn’t understand was why Lan Wangji was doing so damned well?  

It didn’t actually bear pondering.  

He already knew the answer. “My poor Hanguang-Jun,” he sniffled aloud, miserable on his husband’s behalf and so he just had to tell himself about it. “Out there eating people like a yaogui.”  

His voice echoed in the sanctuary, casting out over the pool from where he was sitting cross-legged on a rock with a decent overhang. He only dared speak aloud because he knew his husband was out patrolling. Lan Wangji shouldn’t be inside the sanctuary to hear him for a while yet, and so he was babbling freely, trying to distract himself from how faint he felt. His hungry belly complained endlessly and his thoughts of food were all consuming. As he sighed, his echo returned, reminding him.  

“Oh, I’ve been talking again, haven’t I,” and Wei Wuxian sighed, rocking back and forth. “Heavens, I’d better stop before a big strong man takes advantage and does naughty things to me.”   

The joke seemed less funny in the dark. As the echoes died away, Lan Wangji’s sanctuary fell silent like a tomb. There was no other sound except his rocking back and forth and a faint trickling in the distance. His own noises sounded loud in his ears, even though they were little more than the quietest mouse. This was counter to his nature, but survival required it.  

His mind reeled. 

“I won’t eat people,” mumbled Wei Wuxian behind his hand, desperate for a human voice, even his own. He was still rocking. “I need another solution. Water has fish and fish need water — it just makes sense.” 

Wei Wuxian leaned forward and composed himself. He’d spent the last few sleeps moving rocks into the pool, making a natural corral for fish. It was a trick that always worked back home. Fingers uplifted, he leapt out over the pool and splashed into the water, thrashing beneath the surface. If there were anything fish-like swimming in the pool, his splash would have scared them into the corral straight away.  

Swimming to the corral, Wei Wuxian was deeply disappointed, but not surprised that the fish trap that he’d been working on for several sleeps under Lan Wangji’s very nose was as empty as his stomach.  

Time to go hunt for steamed buns again, but Wei Wuxian merely crawled out of the water and back onto his rock. Instead of leaving, he curled up into a little ball, rocking back and forth in his own embrace. It was silly how much he hated his life right now. He’d done this sometimes in the Burial Mounds, too. 

Wei Wuxian’s misery was an echo of that time, and so complete that he forgot to scrub dirt over the glands on his neck, or notice that the rags he used down below had come loose and floated away. Finally he decided to return to his hollow to sleep again, too exhausted to do much else. He failed to remember certain things, like how the water always washed clean the dirt and grime. He’d travelled halfway across the sanctuary before he realized he could smell himself.  

Oh, no.  

This had been happening all too frequently. Wei Wuxian’s mind wandered. His thoughts were scattered for hunger, such that he began making dangerous mistakes. There was no question in his mind that Lan Wangji knew there was a Zuihou hiding in his territory.  

The first big mistake was a handful of sleeps ago, when he’d crawled out of his hollow and lazily emptied his bladder against the wall of the sanctuary. Normally he did so outside the sanctuary, after digging a deep hole and then stuffing his cock almost to the bottom and then feverishly burying the mess before too much scent escaped. But his mind had wandered and so he’d done the needful naturally, mindless for the sound and scent. He’d just finished and stepped back when he realized what he’d done.

Within moments a gust of air passed at stupendous speed. Lan Wangji scrabbled there, feverishly searching over the mess as if losing his fucking mind.  

And then Wei Wuxian dug his grave a little deeper. “Sorry Lan Zhan,” he’d whispered thoughtlessly, adding his voice to his scent, even as cold terror replaced his remorse in the same instant. Then he threw himself to the side.  

Just in time.  

Air currents kissed his face as Lan Wangji threw his arms out, trying to locate him in the dark. Lan Wangji made a sound then, a huffing noise that sounded like frustration, followed by another sound, which sounded like “nnnhinng,” which was very unlike him. 

Luckily, Wei Wuxian had rolled down into his hollow before he was cornered. The strong smell of his husband had left him half-hard. He was shaking again and held the strong suspicion that he’d accidentally left Lan Wangji in the same state. He’d remembered his own reaction to Lan Wangji’s mess some time ago. Wincing, he’d taken the suspiciously rhythmic noises against the wall as confirmation that his husband was taking the matter in hand for some relief. If his experience was the same for everyone, then there would be no lasting satisfaction that way. It was only their combined scents that satisfied, and it seemed cruel to leave his husband to handle the matter alone. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Wei Wuxian mouthed, again. At the time, he’d have taken responsibility. He’d have taken his husband in his mouth or spread his legs, but didn’t dare for his own safety.

That was some time ago, but Lan Wangji had not settled back into his normal routine since that encounter. His patrolling came sporadically now, his routine destroyed. He seemed more determined. He spent more time searching the sanctuary, returning repeatedly to the same spot that held Wei Wuxian’s scent, splattered so carelessly against the wall. 

And now Wei Wuxian had left another clear trail — water mixed with traces of his own slick that was ever-present with the scent of his husband concentrated in the air — that Lan Wangji was sure to follow when he returned.  

Wei Wuxian groaned aloud. He sank down and quickly covered himself in dirt, making scrabbling noises in his haste. Then he straightened and slapped himself, as if to knock some sense back into his head. If I get much worse he’s going to catch me for sure — that thought was finished by a heavy body slamming into him, having launched from a nearby rock upon hearing the sound of the slap.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian shrieked.

Then he curled and writhed while struggling to keep Lan Wangji from grabbing anything critical. He was certain that broken bones would follow. And so Wei Wuxian found himself flat on his back with Lan Wangji over the top of him, arms circling around him, enveloping him, shaking him like a rag doll for sheer excitement. He curled and kicked upward, scrabbling with his feet over Lan Wangji’s bare back. His healing wrist was tucked close and he felt Lan Wangji’s fingers explore him there. He squealed for anticipated pain and squirmed harder. The hands that grasped him were harsh and bruising, but stopped short of snapping bones. 

His husband’s spicy scent filled Wei Wuxian’s senses. Long lanks of hair cascaded down to tickle his face as Lan Wangji fumbled with him, breathing so excited that it was loud enough to hear. All of this would have combined to a ferocious hug, like the beginning of one of their “every days” and Wei Wuxian would have been so into that, fucking desperate for a good, hard railing, except the arms were clenching too tight.

Already bruises were forming. “Stop that,” cried Wei Wuxian piteously, slapping at the harsh grip while trying to wiggle away. 

Lan Wangji exhaled noisily, sounding excited. He ignored the protests entirely while preparing to gather Wei Wuxian up for a short journey to an enclosed space that might end in his sudden death. 

And Lan Wangji would have had his way, except that he mistakenly tried to pull Wei Wuxian to his feet again. He had one hand clamped on Wei Wuxian’s arm and the other was feeling over Wei Wuxian’s body, rubbing between his legs. He hauled Wei Wuxian to his feet, unwittingly giving him room to maneuver while pressing his fingers into his mouth, as if tasting him. It seemed like he was trying to confirm that Wei Wuxian was the same person who’d made the captivating mess on the wall. It made sense that he had to check, because scent was so much of his life, and Wei Wuxian had dammed his scent up once more. Normally he smelt of the cavern and nothing else. 

It was a mistake, and Wei Wuxian took full advantage. He whirled and ducked, curling down to break Lan Wangji’s hold. Then he bolted, fleeing into the darkness. What followed was a spirited chase around the sanctuary, with Wei Wuxian half a breath ahead of Lan Wangji.

Their marital spat ended when Wei Wuxian threw himself into the pool, diving deep. He outswam Lan Wangji, who followed him in with a massive splash, but was not as good a swimmer. 

Wei Wuxian surfaced under the overhang and crawled up on the ledge, clinging to the rock like a wet cat. There he remained, tracing his husband's frustrated splashing with a rueful expression.

I guess Lan Zhan knows I live here now, and Wei Wuxian pondered the obvious while crouched on the tiny ledge beneath the water. He wondered what that might mean for Lan Wangji’s schedule, which was already fraying. He was sure some of the patrolling was because his husband was trying to find him. I really am habituating to his scent, he thought in the back of his mind, because he should never have been able to escape the resulting fever dream otherwise.

Not for the first time did Wei Wuxian wish it was safe for him to be gathered up, but his still-healing wrist begged to differ. His throat could be crushed just as easily as his wrist was snapped. There was no doubt in his mind it was his responsibility to keep that from happening.

If only it was safe for him to be found.

Clearly it wasn’t.

-o-o-o-

Someone had started a fire.  

Somehow. 

Wei Wuxian had been out hunting steamed buns when the glow crackled to life, spreading into a huge bonfire. The bones were burning quickly, soon to be gone, but he had to admire the dedication. Someone must have gathered up all the long bones from old tributes and rubbed something together long enough to start a fire. 

It seemed pointless, because such a thing was sure to burn out quickly — lasting just long enough to draw reams of unwanted attention — and it wasn’t long before he was proven right. The glow was brilliant in the blackness and shadows between him and the bonfire revealed he wasn’t the only one drawn in by the light. 

Dozens of shadows were gathering.  

The ferals were coming out of the darkness and staring about, seeming entranced by the leaping shadows and the sight of each other. Some stood transfixed, immobile, while others took the opportunity to threaten. Some grew nervous and skulked away, but all of them circled the light. It seemed, for a moment, that there was an armistice between them, only possible because the main cavern was no longer drenched in scent, because so few of them remained alive. 

Wei Wuxian craved the light.

It fed his soul to be able to see again. His eyes feasted on the rocks and the formations and the clutter under his feet, which were littered with cockroach castings amid gray rock and ivory pebbles. Well, that’s gross. 

Wei Wuxian crept closer, spying the man responsible, who was throwing more and more longer bones on the bonfire. He was silent, but his gestures were ordered and meaningful. Then he began to sing, his voice trembling, sounding like prayers to one of the gods of heaven. It seemed like he was offering himself as a sacrifice to appease whatever god they’d somehow offended. His movements and sing-song voice hinted at madness.

Wei Wuxian blinked, worried. I think this must be one of the men Ling Ping mentioned. He said they were going mad in the dark. It certainly seemed that way and he felt a rush of pity, because there was no point offering oneself as a sacrifice in such a manner. We already are sacrifices.

Heaven sent us here, he warned uselessly, without sound. There’s no point praying to them for anything. 

Maybe he should have shouted. 

The man suddenly screamed something up towards the ceiling, perhaps a plea for forgiveness, and then he threw himself onto the bonfire. Or he would have, if he hadn’t revealed himself as a Zuihou. 

One of the Zuìchū leapt and tackled him before he could hurt himself, and a sudden fight broke out over his fallen body. He cried pitifully as someone dragged him towards the dark by one leg. He kicked and fought, but only brought more trouble. Figures danced around and around, circling the fire, having charged forward and then back again when the bonfire proved too hot. 

Wei Wuxian kept back, watching with wide eyes. There was no point in interfering, because he would just suffer the same fate. Instead he stood there, chewing on his lip, until he felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. He knew that feeling. Someone was watching him. Slowly he turned, expecting to see a stranger. 

Lan Wangji was crouched a few paces away, looming down on him from a tall boulder. He was stark naked and his black hair gleamed gold at the edges, unwashed and heavy with natural oils. He hadn’t lost an ounce of weight. His muscles were wiry and corded, exactly as Wei Wuxian remembered. His body was rife with bruises and angry bites and various minor injuries, which amounted to nothing at all. His golden eyes made Wei Wuxian feel weak in the knees, and he stared open-mouthed, feasting his eyes as his husband stared right back at him.

It was as if Lan Wangji was seeing him for the first time. The last time Wei Wuxian had seen that starving look was when he’d taunted Jiang Cheng and told him that Hanguang-Jun was his type. He hadn't understood what he was seeing back then, but now he knew. 

Want.  

It was all over Lan Wangji’s face now. 

“Lan Zhan?” whispered Wei Wuxian, with wide eyes. He stared at the golden glow that lit up his husband’s face, which was softened, as if entranced by what he was seeing. 

“Wei Ying,” answered Lan Wangji. 

Wei Wuxian froze, his eyes widening. It should have melted his heart and soul to hear his husband call his name after so long, except for the way Lan Wangji had said it. Not like he understood it was Wei Wuxian’s real name, but more like a sound associated with him. It wasn’t pronounced correctly, as if his husband had heard a foreign phrase and tried to repeat it, without practice. A thousand-thousand questions burst into life in his mind, even as the sound of his name spoken in such a manner served as a bucket of ice water over his head. 

“Do you remember me?” whispered Wei Wuxian, for how else could Lan Zhan know what his name generally sounded like, if not for memory? “Lan Zhan — do you remember?” 

Or was it something his golden core was feeding him, some inherent memory? Wei Wuxian would have loved to ask questions and receive answers, but Lan Wangji wasn’t responding to his voice. He couldn’t, at least, not in any normal way.

Lan Wangji closed the distance between them and grabbed Wei Wuxian by his arms, clenching tightly. He looked down as Wei Wuxian yelped, reaching up with his good hand and pressing against the clenching fingers.  

“That hurts,” cried Wei Wuxian, trying to unclench those fingers. He was gratified when Lan Wangji actually loosened his grip, his eyes studying Wei Wuxian’s face. He seemed to be reading his expressions; that ever-so-critical non-verbal communication that was encoded in his instincts in a very basic way. Happy, sad, pain, fear… bodies could communicate these emotions much better than any other medium, in ways that magic couldn’t reasonably suppress.

Slowly, Lan Wangji released his hold on Wei Wuxian’s arms. 

Wei Wuxian beamed and threw himself at Lan Wangji. He keened for sheerest delight, wanting to reward his husband for being such a good boy, but in doing so startled him badly. He’d forgotten what a shitty time his husband was suffering in the dark; the anger and fighting and biting. He backed away immediately, apologizing profusely. 

“Sorry, sorry, Lan Zhan, didn’t mean to frighten you! There’s no attack — see? Just hugs? You love hugs and kisses from me, remember?” and Wei Wuxian demonstrated, only to see his husband react with widening eyes and a building erection. 

Oh, Lan Wangji definitely liked kisses.

“Hehehe, I have one of those too,” said Wei Wuxian, parting his tatters to bare himself for his husband’s viewing pleasure. And indeed, he was poking out towards his husband, perfectly playfully obscene… and then he yelped when a strong hand gripped him there. 

“Ouch, ouch, Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan — not so hard!” and Wei Wuxian managed to unwrap Lan Zhan’s hand from his shaft. “Be gentler, please! I only have one!” and he was laughing through the pain of a roughly squeezed cock, but dammit that really hurt. He wasn’t stupid enough to demonstrate back to Lan Wangji what the man should already fucking know. 

Wei Wuxian danced in place, trying to impart the lesson visually with some choice cussing on the side. His theatrics held Lan Wangji in utter thrall, golden eyes devouring every inch of his golden skin, his playful mannerisms, the music of his voice. Then Lan Wangji reached out and took hold of Wei Wuxian again, this time with gentler fingers. 

Nervous, Wei Wuxian let him, then reached out and stroked Lan Wangji in the same place. The fear kept his arousal from overwhelming him, though the little head was getting louder. They were both wet at the tip now, their eyes glazing. Then Wei Wuxian took Lan Wangji in hand, pumping his fist. The reaction was immediate and gratifying; Lan Wangji curled over with a glazed expression, while pulling Wei Wuxian closer. He seemed very keen to continue that sort of play and Wei Wuxian pressed close and peppered his cheek with more kisses.

“Ouch!” yelped Wei Wuxian, as the hand around his rock hard erection clenched down again. He released Lan Wangji and put on another preformative show, bouncing and dancing around making silly pained noises. He was trying to explain his unhappiness without words, letting his actions speak for him. 

Lan Wangji didn’t like that. He wanted Wei Wuxian’s hand back around his cock, but seemed to be making the necessary connections. Looking down, he flexed his hurtful fingers, and then started forward again, even as Wei Wuxian danced around him, flirting shamelessly.    

Meanwhile, Wei Wuxian failed to notice how the remaining Zuìchū posturing around the dying bonfire were turning to see them in the distance. They also responded to the sound of Wei Wuxian’s happy chattering voice. Slowly they began to approach, warily so.

Lan Wangji didn’t notice, either. He was too enthralled by their matching erections. He kept reaching out for Wei Wuxian’s cock again, glittering wet at the tip. He reached out, but it kept bouncing out of reach of his harsh fingers, for some reason.

Wei Wuxian was doing all he could to distract Lan Wangji from grabbing him, which worked until it didn't. Finally Lan Wangji simply pounced and gathered the entire yelping Wei Wuxian into his arms. Wei Wuxian felt those powerful arms clench around him. He felt himself lifted off the ground, his back pressed against a rock as Lan Wangji rubbed their bodies together, their hips grinding, their cocks hard and leaking. 

“Lan Zhan,” gasped Wei Wuxian, his feet dangling. He really needed this. He needed a good hard railing so damned bad. He grinded back as hard as he could, edging nearer to orgasm, even as Lan Wangji buried his face in Wei Wuxian’s neck, breathing deep.  

Then Lan Wangji bit down, hard.  

Hard enough to draw blood and Wei Wuxian, feeling threatened once more, squealed in pain and drew himself back, shocked. “That hurt!” he cried, using his husband’s surprise to wiggle loose. He stumbled back and rubbed at the blood on his neck. “I said stop hurting me!” and he held out his fingers angrily, demanding Lan Wangji take responsibility. 

Lan Wangji cocked his head, then licked his lips, considering. He looked at the trickle of red down Wei Wuxian’s throat and... 

…frowned.  

That was hopeful, at least. Surely he is trainable, this husband of mine. Surely if Wei Wuxian had time, he could convince his husband to be gentler, regardless of his feral behavior… but he didn’t have the time.  

The glow was fading now that the bonfire wasn’t being fed. The fighting in the distance was breaking up, as most Zuìchū already knew who was stronger and who was weaker, such that fighting to the death wasn’t as common. The poor Zuihou that was dragged off had stopped struggling. 

Lan Wangji was reacting to visual cues, which were swiftly vanishing as the darkness encroached once more. Surely such training would not be possible in the returning darkness. 

“I love you so much,” Wei Wuxian whispered, even as he began to edge away. “When we make it back — you and me — I’ll make it up to you, alright?” and his body shrank and his shoulders hunched as he put distance between them, clearly communicating his fear. “Alright, Lan Zhan?” 

Lan Wangji reacted instantly. His eyes were bright and eager. He stalked forward like a lion, step by step, trying to close as much distance as possible before the final rush. He wouldn’t be parted and wasn’t going to stop.

It was honestly terrifying. 

Blood trickled down his neck as the glow of Lan Wangji’s feral eyes became the brightest thing in the dark. Honestly, could Wei Wuxian be blamed for being afraid? He turned and bolted, with Lan Wangji right behind him. He darted towards the darkest places, with great shadows giving chase as the bonfire continued to dwindle. 

Behind them, the Zuìchū were charging. 

Wei Wuxian changed course mid-flight, suddenly recognizing where he was, putting sight to sound and feeling. He headed towards the sanctuary at top speed, only to have a young Zuìchū explode out behind a rock formation and smash into him, throwing him to the ground. 

Rolling, Wei Wuxian blinked as a mannish blur smashed into the young feral as he had just been smashed into. He recognized the sheer grace of his husband’s movements, even in the returning dark.  

Lan Wangji pounced soundlessly on the man in the lead and took him down, even as the last of the light went out. Darkness fell once more and the other Zuìchū hesitated to hear the thrashing. They were not working together. They were rivals and each was trying to reach Wei Wuxian first. They would fight over the top of him after, but they had to reach him first. Except someone wasn’t following the normal path.   

Wei Wuxian heard Lan Wangji intercept the strongest man. He heard the click of Lan Wangji’s teeth closing. He heard the aborted gasp, the sound of meat being torn out in a bloody chunk. The death gurgles from the stricken Zuìchū, who still tried to struggle until he slumped over dead. 

“Er-gege?” whispered Wei Wuxian, still adjusting to the idea that he needed to shut the hell up again. The little moment of light had disoriented him. But nothing had really changed, not really, because without visual cues Lan Wangji was still too dangerous. Nothing had changed, except that Lan Wangji now had a mental image to match up the scent and sound of the Zuihou that insisted on teasing and tormenting him in his own house, whose scent drove him mad with lust.  

Curling against a supportive rock, Wei Wuxian tried to imagine Lan Wangji with a mouthful of flesh; blood pouring down his face. That was exactly how he must look right now. He could hear the droplets puddling on the ground. Still he couldn’t make the imagining appear in his mind, but knew he was barely a breath away from exactly that.  

Wei Wuxian bolted, straight back towards sanctuary.

Chapter Text

The first time Wei Wuxian fainted from hunger was outside his hollow. It had been several sleeps without catching a single steamed bun. He’d crawled out to start his day, but stood up too fast and fainted dead away. Waking some time later, he’d considered himself fortunate that his husband hadn’t discovered him in such a vulnerable state.

But the second time Wei Wuxian fainted was while returning to Lan Wangji’s territory. This was the most dangerous time, because of how attentive Lan Wangji was to possible intruders. So it wasn't surprising that was when Wei Wuxian’s luck ran out.

At first things had been going rather well. He’d managed to catch a few steamed buns after overturning a cracked skull. He'd snatched them up, forgoing his normal ‘remove the legs and think of anything else’ method. He merely crushed them with his hands and downed them all without the slightest hesitation. His mood brightened with something in his stomach, taming the ever-present ache. He’d just crossed the threshold of Lan Wangji’s territory when he paused, his eyes widening. Then he smiled outright when he realised he’d used his injured hand to squish the steamed buns without a flash of pain. That means I don't need my sling anymore, and he practically danced in place. Should still be careful, he cautioned with a wince. Bending and flexing his wrist too hard still left him aching, but tossing the sling aside felt like real progress. Exuberant, he even twirled a few times, which promptly cast him into another faint.

After landing face down, Wei Wuxian transitioned from a faint into actual sleep. He spent some time that way, completely out in the open. His soft breathing meant he went unnoticed at first, until something nearby startled him out of a sound sleep and he made a little noise. It wasn’t really his fault. He was used to waking in his hollow. Waking up in a strange place without remembering how he got there meant he was frightfully lost. He’d startled and squeaked and then panicked a little during his groggy awaking.

Lan Wangji must have zeroed in on his confused noise. Wei Wuxian had barely returned to consciousness when he felt strong hands grasp him. His husband’s hands clenched down ferociously, but refrained from inflicting death. The strength in his husband's fingers was as familiar to Wei Wuxian as breathing.  

Wei Wuxian gasped “Wha?” but was otherwise too groggy for anything else.

Lan Wangji made a soft noise “hmn,” as if answering him. Then he settled his weight over the top of Wei Wuxian, squeezing him against the ground. His weight pressed Wei Wuxian’s nose to the sand, while he controlled his captive’s movements. Harsh fingers unclenched, retreating from violence, but didn’t release. It was a shockingly subdued response, actually.

Wei Wuxian struggled as Lan Wangji began to bully him. So far his noise had alerted Lan Wangji that he was a Zuihou and not a threat. But it wasn’t enough, because Lan Wangji was particular. He was only interested in a single person. Squirming, Wei Wuxian suppressed a fearful cry as long fingers investigated him suspiciously, because without sight, sound, or scent, he could be anyone. He squirmed harder when Lan Wangji nosed and then mouthed over his neck, trying to properly scent him. It was troublesome when he smelled like their surroundings and nothing more.

Wei Wuxian smothered a nervous laugh, because he wasn't sure what the right move was. His body grew slick with sweat and fear. Would Lan Wangji actually release him if he stayed quiet, or would he become violent, instead? He's been eating... err... plenty of meat, surely? He must be getting his food from somewhere. Should I be panicking right now?

Wei Wuxian heard Lan Wangji's annoyed snort when he couldn’t get a proper scent. And yet, Lan Wangji had to know the person who’d been teasing him never left a scent trail, right? Who else could Wei Wuxian be, if not the person beneath him? These thoughts churned through Wei Wuxian's mind as his husband snuffed over him.

At the same time, Lan Wangji’s fingers tightened, and if his expression could be guessed, it would surely be described as stubborn. He seemed excited over his catch and kept shifting his weight. He was trying to maneuver around to investigate his captive’s nethers without releasing him. The longer he held Wei Wuxian down without confirmation the harsher his fingers became.

I — I really think I should be panicking, and Wei Wuxian realized his normal defenses were working against him, putting him at risk. My smell is too muted. He could feel how Lan Wangji was treating him as if he was suspicious, and rightfully so. I’ve never heard him encounter or react to any men in my group before, but Ling Ping thinks he’s too dangerous to approach. He had no idea if his husband spared any other Zuihou as a matter of course, or killed them outright. There was one undeniable truth though: If he decides I’m a threat, he’ll kill me dead before I even realize what’s happened.

I’m in trouble!

Sound and smell was what Lan Wangji needed, in that order. Wei Wuxian realized it would be stupid not to give it to him. Especially now that he was trapped, and especially while they were outside their sanctuary, in the borderlands of Lan Wangji’s territory in the central cavern. And so, within moments of being pounced on, he did two things simultaneously; he relaxed his lower body and liberated just a few trickles, and started up a soft, defensive babbling as he squirmed.

“Lan Zhan,” whispered Wei Wuxian, keeping hushed this time. “You can let me go, okay? I can’t stay with you,” and he winced when Lan Wangji adjusted his weight and pressed his face between his legs to scent him.

It was precarious enough that Wei Wuxian tried to dislodge his husband with a strategic wiggle, which only backfired when Lan Wangji lost his balance and his full weight crashed down heavily upon Wei Wuxian, making him squeak and giving Lan Wangji quite the snootful of his ass.

“I mean,” whispered Wei Wuxian a little shrilly, “I want to stay with you, but you are too much right now!” He scrabbled fearfully in the dirt as he spoke, “Lan Er-gege, you need to let me go—”

Then Wei Wuxian yelped as Lan Wangji surged above him, recognizing his voice and especially his scent. He reacted much as he had when Wei Wuxian had accidentally pissed on the wall of their sanctuary. Lan Wangji had been suspicious before, but this was confirmation. Lan Wangji’s fingers clenched painfully tight, and then unclenched as if remembering something, then clenched again whenever Wei Wuxian moved too much. It seemed that brief moment of theatrics some time ago had made an impact, though not enough to keep bruises from forming on Wei Wuxian’s pitiful body when he forgot himself.

Then Wei Wuxian sucked in a breath as the fingers of his husband’s hand explored his sensitive places. He felt a tug below and hummed nervously as the rolled cloth damming him up was cast aside. He heard a wet sound and realised those fingers had ended up in his husband’s mouth. He’s tasting me — actually checking if he’s caught me, specifically… and because scent and sound matched up, that meant the answer was yes.

And so the wrestling match started immediately after. “Ai-yah, at least you aren’t killing me — that’s good!” and Wei Wuxian laughed in growing terror as Lan Wangji rolled him over onto his back, straddling him.

Hands held captive above his head, heavier body flush to his… how many times had they done this together in the Jingshi? Wei Wuxian had never been able to struggle properly. They both enjoyed a ravishment kink a mile wide, but he always struggled to uphold his part. Normally his legs just fell open during their roleplaying, because he loved feeling his husband inside him. But today was different. Today he was actually fighting, because he was afraid. 

There was no sandalwood left anymore. Having gone too long without bathing, Lan Wangji’s natural scent was dominant. And what did it say about Wei Wuxian that, even frightened for his life, he was powerfully aroused by the man over the top of him? That he would have loved to be treated this fiercely in their marriage bed? They’d never achieved this level of struggle, because he wasn’t capable of fighting this hard. He wanted Lan Wangji too much to keep him at bay, but he couldn’t let his husband drag him away… 

…and so he fought. 

Meanwhile Lan Wangji had gone from considering him a possible enemy to something else entirely. But his grip was still punishing. Then he gathered Wei Wuxian up without hesitation. This time Wangji didn’t bother with trying to drag Wei Wuxian anywhere, or fuss over him unduly. It seemed he’d learned his lesson. He seemed convinced his squirrelly mate would have to be bodily controlled and carried.

Wei Wuxian squirmed amid a torrent of “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, be nice!” as a terrifically strong arm wrapped around his upper body. His fingers scrabbled as Lan Wangji pinned his arms to his sides, while the other arm encircled his legs, immobilizing him.

A little dazed, Wei Wuxian was shocked for how weak his body had become. His honest struggles were as nothing. He blinked when his head ended up tucked between Lan Wangji’s neck and shoulder. It seemed his husband remembered their previous encounters, because he wasn’t as defensive about his own body.

Wei Wuxian’s mouth nestled against his husband’s elegant neck without a qualm. It seemed that Lan Wangji didn’t expect Wei Wuxian to hurt him — correctly so, because he would never hurt his beautiful cabbage — and so didn’t bother being defensive about his face or neck.

Lan Wangji’s solution worked beautifully, up and until he reached the vertical crack that led to his sanctuary. Wei Wuxian tensed up. This is my chance, he realized. Lan Wangji felt his reaction and his arms tightened, but there was no other option. We have to crawl through the crack, he can’t carry me through… and so Lan Wangji was forced to partially release Wei Wuxian. During the maneuvering that followed, Wei Wuxian managed to slip his grasp as they entered the sanctuary, rolling away. Feeling weak in the knees, he stumbled for the strong scents and rough handling. Then he was up on his feet in a flash and began to leap and run.

But Wei Wuxian had to stop after a few disorienting leaps, because landing was too loud. I’ll never lose Lan Zhan in the dark like this and so he slowed and concentrated on maintaining silence. Then his fingers encountered a crack he thought he recognized. He had long since memorized the sanctuary down to the smallest stone, or so he believed. Immediately he began crawling down into the space below, but made too much noise. 

Lan Wangji was right behind him.  

Wei Wuxian whirled and tumbled down into the narrow space, fainting once more for overexertion. He landed face down again, but roused moments later. He could hear Lan Wangji digging persistently above him and dared feel confident to escape, because his hollow had two openings. But then his fingers uncovered more bad news. This was not his hollow, but a half-hearted burrow that he’d never finished for growing weakness. Terrified to realize his mistake, he was forced to stay the course regardless. There was no going back now. He crawled as far under the rock ceiling as possible and huddled there. He regretted not finishing it, especially now that Lan Wangji was trying to dig him out... and doing an excellent job of it.

Lan Wangji dug out and around the rock. He parted the sand and pebbles with both hands, until an opening appeared around the back of the rock. Then he reached an arm inside, scrabbling around until he felt smooth skin beneath his fingers. Locating a huddled Wei Wuxian, he seemed to calm down.

Wei Wuxian could feel Lan Wangji’s fingers questing down his smooth back, trying to find a way to grasp him. He couldn’t move away. The space inside the unfinished burrow was too small. This is less a shelter than a death trap, he realized. He shivered as fingers traced down his spine. I’ve messed this up pretty bad.

Then Lan Wangji’s unrelenting fingers encountered a wrinkle of cloth, wrapped around his middle for modesty. Catching there, they encircled the cloth and pulled, as if intending to haul Wei Wuxian up through a hole that was far too small for his body. The cloth surrendered first. Tearing loose, the strips vanished up the hole, leaving Wei Wuxian bare again. Lan Wangji’s fingers immediately returned, feeling down his bare back for another handhold. Shivering, he heard a frustrated breath from above.

Wei Wuxian considered crawling back out and running. He was still covered in dirty grit and whatever drops of urine had gathered on his cloth was now parted from him. Hiding was very much an option. The problem was he was sure to faint again. Already he was feeling light-headed; the short run inside their sanctuary had done him no favors. He would surely faint and then it would be all over for him… but maybe it already was.

Clearly the burrow was a terrible mistake. Lan Wangji could partially reach him from above and was steadily mastering the situation. Reluctantly, Lan Wangji withdrew his arm for a moment. There was a rustle above and a pattering of pebbles rained down over Wei Wuxian’s back. Then Lan Wangji returned, aggressively so. This happened several times as Lan Wangji sorted out the best way to claim what he desired above all other things. Then Lan Wangji paused for a moment, returning his hand to Wei Wuxian’s back.

Now Lan Wangji was stroking him, gently. 

Wei Wuxian shivered under those gentle fingers. “Lan Zhan,” he whispered. His heart felt confused. He didn’t know what to think. He didn’t dare trust his husband’s intentions. Especially he didn’t dare move, because if he turned on his side or rolled onto his back, those fingers would find something to catch on. He didn’t know what would happen then, but he was sure it would hurt.

Lan Wangji withdrew from the hole he’d dug overtop of Wei Wuxian. He vanished for a moment, though Wei Wuxian could hear frantic digging elsewhere. Then Lan Wangji’s arm reappeared, scrabbling in the dark directly in front of Wei Wuxian.

Lan Wangji had discovered the opening of his burrow. He’d widened it so that his body could partially fit. There were several boulders stabilizing the burrow on all sides, so he couldn’t force his way inside, but he was able to reach far enough to entangle his fingers in Wei Wuxian’s hair. Then his hand clenched into a fist that was not going to unclench any time soon.

They stayed that way for a while.

Lan Wangji was breathing hard, utterly beside himself for excitement. He’d finally cornered Wei Wuxian and was preparing to claim him. They shared a breathy moment, both bodies shaking together, but for different reasons. Then Lan Wangji began to pull steadily, inching Wei Wuxian out of his burrow like a starfish would draw forth a resisting clam from its shell.

Soon it became clear that Lan Wangji was going to have his way… and Wei Wuxian was approaching hysterics, crying a steady stream of “Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan—!” while trying to stave off his own eventual death. 

Wei Wuxian wailed like he was being murdered while slowly dragged from his safe place, as a second arm landed, grasping his shoulder. He could feel Lan Wangji bracing for a strong haul and began pulling him hand over hand.

“Okay, alright,” whispered Wei Wuxian, giving up his theatrics now that he was facing the end of the road. “I guess this is happening, huh Lan Zhan?” His fingers dug furrows like a cat trying to avoid a bath as he was dragged “You’ve had enough, huh?” and agreeing piteously as if he had a choice, “Just don’t hurt your Wei Ying, alright?”

Then, with a last haul, Lan Wangji pulled him into his arms…

…and back into his life.

-o-o-o-

The first time back with Lan Wangji was the most difficult.

Wei Wuxian was so panicky that Lan Wangji never once let go of him. They had to relearn to trust each other.

It was hard going at first. Wei Wuxian made no attempt to hurt his husband, but made every attempt to escape him. Even from the start, from the very moment Wei Wuxian was hauled out from the ground, they’d been in conflict. They’d wrestled over the ground for a few breathless moments. Wei Wuxian was a decent wrestler, thanks to Jiang Cheng never going easy on him when they were kids. Generally sinuous and squirrely as a matter of course, he’d tried hard, but Lan Wangji wasn’t having it. His grip was crushing, just shy of breaking bones.

It was panic-inducing.

The differences in weight, strength, and condition between them quickly became apparent. It wasn’t long before Wei Wuxian weakened to the point of being unable to fight back. His resistance broken, he collapsed backwards and stayed there. Feeling his husband over the top of him, he wasn’t surprised by a few soothing licks up his neck. He was surprised when Lan Wangji didn’t immediately fuck him senseless, like before.

Instead, Lan Wangji began to move him.

He’s taking me back to his sleeping cave and Wei Wuxian knew he had to do something if he wanted any chance of escape. Have to get away before that happens, before we’re stuck in an enclosed space… alas, he was a mere shadow of what he used to be. He simply couldn’t manage anymore. Without cultivation, magic, stamina, or visual cues, he had no doubt that he was done for.

Terrified of being torn apart and maybe eaten by the one man he loved more than life — and so the one man who could take his life without reprisal — Wei Wuxian used the only thing he had left: his mouth. He kept up a steady stream of hysterical babble, which sounded like “lanzhanlanzhan - noergege! - lanzhanlanzhan,” along with outright wailing. There were occasional cries of “don’t eat meeee!” amidst all the crying, too. It was probably the smartest thing he could have done as Lan Wangji paused between bursts of nuzzling and kidnapping him away. It really felt like his husband was struggling to maintain focus with the object of his desires in his grasp. He would lift Wei Wuxian and move him a few feet, then settle back down over the top of the smaller body, as if in a protective spasm. The crying especially kept him incited.

Lan Wangji kept nuzzling over Wei Wuxian’s noisy mouth as if inhaling all the blessed noise, which didn't upset him like before. Surely because they were in the sanctuary proper, where noise mattered less. Then, rocking back and forth with some unnamed emotion, he would throw himself back over the top and mouth over all the bare skin he could reach. Sometimes he nipped deep enough to draw a few drops of blood. It was as if he was memorizing everything about Wei Wuxian anew with all of his senses; his hands, mouth, and nose.

Shortly after, Wei Wuxian dug his grave for the last time in their struggle. Panicking as they neared the sunken space that led to Lan Wangji’s sleeping nook, he kicked out and climbed up Lan Wangji’s body like a tree. His struggle was sudden and movements harsh; he really should have expected what came next. Instead he promptly fainted dead away… and as sleep overtook the faint, Wei Wuxian dreamt of warm, wet kisses. He dreamt of their every days and nights, of being safe with his husband back in the Jingshi.

When Wei Wuxian woke, he was somewhere else. He snuffled, frightened and deeply confused. He was on his back, nestled into something… soft?

It felt like layers and layers of discarded cloth fully covering the ground. The fabric was stretched and piled all around him. The ceiling felt really low. There was a warm furrow where he’d been nestled, with a heavy body resting over the top of him. That weight was so warm. It was comforting on a very deep level.  Shifting a little, he explored his new situation in fits and startles. He could tell that Lan Wangji had spent some serious attention on him, because he could smell himself. He tried not to consider how Lan Wangji could have cleaned him up that thoroughly without soap, water, or soapy water. Nope, not going to think about that.

Instead Wei Wuxian explored further. There was a familiar ache between his hips, peaking between the cleft of his cheeks. His inner thighs were sticky. So was his belly, recognizably so. Clearly his husband had reclaimed him, probably as soon as they’d settled here. He regretted sleeping through that part of their reunion. He must have orgasmed, maybe several times from the sheer amount of dried mess on his belly.

It also explained his languid mood.

They’d done such things before, back in the sun-drenched world they came from. Sometimes Wei Wuxian enjoyed his husband’s body while he slept, sometimes Lan Wangji enjoyed him. He loved waking to the feeling of a warm, wet mouth on his cock, or with his head resting on his husband’s chest, that fluttering heartbeat against his ear while his husband thrust lazily into his belly.

So good.

It was a little less enjoyable when Lan Wangji could snap his neck at any moment. Wei Wuxian couldn’t fully suppress a nervous snuffle as he tested how difficult it would be to wriggle out and maybe escape…?

Then the weight above shifted, keeping him pressed into the hollow. He realized Lan Wangji was fully awake.

“Ah, Lan Zhan,” whispered Wei Wuxian, startled.

The weight suddenly lifted. Wei Wuxian heard his husband rouse himself, joints cracking noisily as he stretched and hovered above, within easy pouncing distance. Nervous, Wei Wuxian tried to sit up and move away, wanting to curl up against the wall. He was surely within his husband’s sleeping nook, but had no idea where the opening was. He reached up and explored the space with his fingers, as far as he could reach. He found himself nestled in a perfect dark place, under a low ceiling. The echo of their breaths defined the room as very small. Wanting to sort his situation, he tried to creep out of his warm furrow, but felt hands land upon him again. They pulled him back into the furrow with an easy strength.

Wei Wuxian knew his every movement could be heard in the perfect quiet, even as he could hear his husband’s every breath. He heard Lan Wangji hum ever-so-faintly in his throat before surging over top of him again. There was an excited edge to Lan Wangji’s movements as he reached down to gather Wei Wuxian up by his hips.

Round two?

“Uhnmhn,” and Wei Wuxian reached up and held on as Lan Wangji settled over the top of him again. There was no doubt in his mind what was going to happen next. He welcomed the distraction from his woes… but again, the hands on his hips were too rough! His bruises had bruises now! Everything was already too much and so he put up a fuss in every way he could. He started by crying out “Lan Zhan! Be nice!” and squeezing back the fingers that were squeezing him with as much force as he could, while making the same theatrical noises as before.

Thank heavens it worked.

Lan Wangji’s grip eased. Snuffling, feeling defensive, Wei Wuxian kept trying to curl up into a fearful ball, but Lan Wangji kept uncurling him. His strong fingers splayed over Wei Wuxian’s chest, examining his nipples and then tangling in his hair, playing with him every-which-way. Strong hands slid down and gathered up a handful of Wei Wuxian's cock and balls, as if comparing them to his own. Surely he was remembering the bonfire. Their scents mingled as they grew wet together, their unseen reactions entwining into a heady musk.

Curiously, the delusional state never came. Maybe because I’ve spent so long smelling him now? Lan Wangji had long since permeated his senses. Or perhaps it was because he’d already been taken while sleeping. The simmering remained and peaked here and there, like perpetual edging, but never overcame his waking mind.

It was almost a relief when Lan Wangji finally stopped exploring and began arranging him with intent. Lan Wangji hefted his hips and entered him in one clumsy thrust. Wei Wuxian was already open and wet and so Lan Wangji took him with ease. Even lacking his usual precision, Lan Wangji’s enthusiasm remained second to none. The thrusts were brutal, but that at least was completely normal.

Wei Wuxian threw his head back and helped the angle until the curve in Lan Wangji’s cock rubbed deliciously over his sweet spot. He groaned and grabbed his husband’s hands and entangled their fingers, until his husband escaped him to grasp his ass with both hands. Wei Wuxian's hands no longer held any strength. He was too weak to do anything more than hold on, but the reminder to be nice held up, so he was able to enjoy the ride. The hard pounding was exactly what he needed. His good hand slithered down between his legs to stroke his cock. It’s been so long, he thought between noisy gasps that were quickly becoming noisy cries. Tension built in his belly. He timed his strokes to the fierce thrusts, reaching up with his bad hand to splay his fingers over his husband’s lower belly. The muscles felt good; taunt and strong as they flexed, helping drive his cock into Wei Wuxian’s body over and over.

Lan Wangji was healthy, strong, and horny as fuck.

 If I do die down here, I hope he fucks me to death, he thought muzzily, but shook his head, shocked at himself.

Still… there’s worse ways to go.

-o-o-o-

He’d been fucked senseless.

First on his back, then bareback when he wriggled to the edge of the hollow during a lull, then flipped over and taken from the front again. Lan Wangji was making up for lost time, making Wei Wuxian keep his promise of “making it up to him” way sooner than he intended. Lan Wangji was also more restless then normal and that meant he changed positions more frequently, which helped. The change ups usually happened after Lan Wangji startled for some sound far in the distance, then whirling back to continue.

Waking up from their first sleep together, Wei Wuxian was shocked to discover he was still alive. Fucked raw with plenty more to come, but somehow still alive.

Even more shocking, he’d slept silently throughout an entire normal sleep without Lan Wangji waking up in the darkness, forgetting who he was, and (after breaking every bone in his body) strangling him to death.

They’d had a rather nice sleep, actually. Especially considering the circumstances and Wei Wuxian woke feeling so warm that he was almost hot. It felt absolutely wonderful and was partially due to the hot-water-bottle that was his husband’s body snug over the top of him — he had no doubt this was to keep him from sneaking away — and from the warm shaft that was still buried to the hilt in his belly. He could feel their connection. Starvation meant he was perpetually cold, such that he could feel the whole of Lan Wangji within him. It felt so good… so normal. They did this sort of thing sometimes and he’d always found it comforting. He’d spent the last few moments of muzzy consciousness pressing kisses upon as much of his husband as he could reach. That might have helped with the waking reunion as well.

It really is the scent, Wei Wuxian finally realized. It was especially apparent when Lan Wangji snuffled in his sleep, frowning against his skin, but eased again after taking a deep breath. His nose and mouth were saturated with Wei Wuxian’s natural scent, reassuring him before he’d even woken that he was in good company. That’s what’s missing between us. He can’t relax unless he can smell me. I need to stop coating myself with dirt for now. It’s for my own safety.

That’s why Ling Ping is able to move between Zuìchū without being excessively brutalized, which was what Wei Wuxian experienced every single time any of them encountered him before realizing what he actually was.

No more mud baths, Wei Wuxian decided. He would still escape if he could, though his resolve was weakening. He was still very sore, but so far his corrections had worked. Maybe it was worth a few bruises and bites — okay it was a lot of bruises, like all the bruises and waaay too many deep bites — to wake up with his husband again.

“Just don’t hurt your Wei Ying,” he murmured against Lan Wangji’s neck.

There were no promises made between them. There couldn’t be any. Lan Wangji snuffled, his eye lashes fluttered against Wei Wuxian’s forehead, and then he sat up. Hands landed on Wei Wuxian’s hips again and tightened. Wei Wuxian could feel Lan Wangji’s excitement building again, which translated into him feeling horny.

Endlessly, endlessly horny.

The man truly was a monster. “Lan Zhan,” moaned Wei Wuxian, complaining again, with wailing not far off. “You have to get me breakfast first. I need to eat something. I’m so hungry, Lan Zhan!” and as he whined, his body began to move rhythmically and that left him wondering if Lan Wangji really was going to fuck him to death.

Then a miracle happened.

All the harsh thrusting disturbed the layers of cloth that served as their bedding. As a fold turned over, something that didn’t remotely resemble a steamed bun scuttled back under the cloth, but no further.

Wei Wuxian gasped, arms thrown out and legs splaying into the air. Then he pounced. He dug with excited squeaks as he was bounced by a merciless Hanguang-Jun. Regardless of the difficulties, he persevered and then stuffed the entire steamed bun in his mouth. Alas, he’d forgotten to crush it first. The next few moments were memorable as he coughed and choked, but forced the unfortunate down into the acidic hell of his stomach.

This process was made much harder when Lan Wangji, hearing the entire thing and the resulting choking fit, paused his ravishing of Wei Wuxian’s backside to grab a handful of slim throat and stuff long fingers into Wei Wuxian’s mouth, trying to fish out whatever was stuck there… and promptly got harshly chomped for his trouble.

Wei Wuxian squeaked in horror. Blood-flecked lips parted as he fell back and curled up in a ball, shrieking he was sorry. He rocked back and forth in terror while howling things like “don’t kill me Er-gege!!!” and “I’m not attacking you!!!” which ended up being over-the-top dramatic. Because Lan Wangji just spent a moment licking his sore fingers and then went straight back to his prior business, which he found more challenging when Wei Wuxian insisted on going spelunking under the bedding for more steamed buns.

“Mn,” protested Lan Wangji, after dragging Wei Wuxian back onto his cock for the umpteenth time. He didn’t understand the sheer amount of progress he’d just made by taking a bite himself without crass retaliation. He did, however, understand what Wei Wuxian was eating, and didn’t seem to approve.

Wei Wuxian’s chewing filled the sleeping cave. “Er-gege! You don’t understand! This place is like a bakery! Steamed buns everywhere!” and that was a crass exaggeration. There were only a handful at best, but he was determined to catch every single one.

It was simultaneously the best and worst morning they’d ever spent together — strictly speaking in terms of mornings spent in caves populated by monsters, human and otherwise.

-o-o-o-

Lan Wangji was a puzzle in the dark.

It had been Wei Wuxian’s understanding that the demons had suppressed Lan Wangji’s consciousness and reduced him into a mindless, hulking, perpetually horny monster. This was true, but only to a point.

He was also affectionate.

Perhaps they hadn’t considered the effect of a strong golden core? Or more likely, it had never made enough of a difference before that they even noticed or cared. What were a few kindly snuffles between bouts of rough sex for men who didn’t want to be where they were, experiencing what they were? Less than nothing, but Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were a married couple and so they were coping with their harsh reality, each in his own way, to his own capabilities.

Lan Wangji had the added burden of having being teased endlessly by the little body that was now trapped within a few body lengths of him. It was ingrained, even burned, into his memory that this squirrely little body would easily vanish in the dark — somehow hiding his scent and suppressing his sounds — if given half the chance, and so he took no chances.

The need for territorial patrolling, food, and water remained. And so Lan Wangji continued to leave the sleeping nook as normal, but now Lan Wangji’s solution to his “Wei Ying keeps running away” problem was to move a flat and very heavy rock over the sunken entrance. It was another indicator of the effect of a strong golden core, because weaker Zuìchū never even had the thought. As such, they routinely lost their Zuihou during their absences.

All of these things Wei Wuxian was left to consider when he discovered the existence of a flat rock over the only exit from the nook, which was otherwise solid granite rock. There was no digging his way out and he pitched the mother of all shitfits right there — “Lan Zhan, you think you can lock me up like this?! You bad husband! Get back here and let me out! I have to pee, Lan Zhan! I’m so hungry and thirsty! You let me out right now!” — howling and screaming at the entrance, utterly thwarted.

Wei Wuxian ended up digging a hole at one of the corners and did his business there, burying his mess so he didn’t stink up the place. But there was nothing he could do about food or water. He’d wiped the place out of steamed buns, at least for now. And so he gracelessly howled himself into suffering a dry mouth for the rest of the time Lan Wangji was gone, and then positioned at the side of the entrance when he heard the huge, flat rock start to move.

Wei Wuxian’s intentions were to throw himself out the entrance as soon as Lan Wangji entered. It would have worked too, if he hadn’t overexerted himself up to that point, with said shitfit.

Waking up from his faint back in his furrow a hundred times stickier then when he’d fainted, while situated under a powerfully smug Hanguang-Jun, who was ass-planted on his belly again and probably smiling that subtle smile of his, well it would have been the last straw, but when he sat up to scream his bloody head off, a splash of water interrupted him.

Lan Wangji was holding a cup of water in his hands. Apparently food and water was his responsibility now. As well it should be, considering he was the one moving the damned rock, which Wei Wuxian would have stated rather loudly if asked, if he wasn’t too busy satiating his thirst, sucking great gulps of clean, cold water nosily in the dark.

Also, the “cup” was someone’s unfortunately liberated brain-pan.

Alright then.

Regardless of the rocky start and return, the time spent together after Lan Wangji came back from patrolling and foraging was better and worse in waves, probably because Wei Wuxian was really starting to feel his bruises and he was getting damned tired of hurting.

The problem remained that Lan Wangji’s hands and fingers were consistently too strong. He left bruises in his wake of his every touch. It wasn’t intentional — Wei Wuxian knew him well enough to parse that. Any other man would have considered Lan Wangji’s grip a precursor to violence, except for Wei Wuxian, who was used to this sort of thing in little doses. Normally they felt like pinches of spice, especially during their “every days” and often nights. He used to welcome it, but in normal times a few cajoling words and the occasional hand-smack worked to rein in the aggression.

There was no such control now.

It was understandable to Wei Wuxian that his husband lacked trust for other people. Had he done nothing but fight with hands and teeth with strangers since arriving? Understandable, but still tear-inducing. His beautiful cabbage was getting better, too. The constant reminders were sinking in and grabbing hold, but each harsh pinch stood out in his mind. Far more than he remembered the hundreds of smaller, normal brushes and touches all throughout their waking moments together.

It didn’t help that Wei Wuxian was slowly starving to death.

Probably that was the true source of his current mental breakdown, after finishing the water and realizing the flat rock was back and going to be a permanent feature of his life in this hellhole with his husband — who really didn’t handle teasing so well when he was a near-mindless brute — because Wei Wuxian was an emotional shipwreck.

He’d been crying most of the time apart from Lan Wangji, alternating between screaming fits of anger and despair. Honestly, he was exhausted. Just… done with the whole thing. He was really going at it now that Lan Wangji was back to hear him… just outdoing himself with the theatrics, because he was too weak to do anything else. Eyes closed, face pinched, his mouth hung open while he cried “wahahah Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, stop killing me, don’t you love your Wei Ying anymore?” because something had to give. Then long fingers popped something into his mouth.

It was food.

Raw meat, specifically.

It made love to Wei Wuxian’s tongue; he felt the velvety-textured lump marbled with creamy reams of fat melt in his mouth and Wei Wuxian didn’t even like raw food, but it was absolutely delicious. The problem was that there was no food down here that wasn’t running around on digitigrade legs and didn’t taste like the bottom of an old grave. He chewed, he swallowed, he coughed, and then he clawed at his throat in horror when he realized what he’d just done. Then he started rolling around on the ground as if he’d been poisoned.

His grabby, domineering cabbage straddled his back and held him down with his legs and seemed deeply confused. There was a wet sound, as if another morsel was being retrieved from inside a cheek for safekeeping.

Another piece of meat was offered.

Wei Wuxian froze up. He sniffed at the offering, despite himself. He was sorely tempted. His stomach hurt so much. The smell of the morsel left his belly growling audibly in the dark. He was so hungry that it was honestly tempting to just accept the mouthful of mystery meat and give up on this last visage of… of… whatever it was that whispered in the back of his mind that he absolutely must not, because there wasn’t any real food down here. It wasn’t Lan Wangji’s fault he didn’t understand right from wrong anymore. That was even for the best, because Lan Wangji’s innocence was preserved, but Wei Wuxian didn’t have that luxury. He absolutely knew right from wrong, good from bad, could recognize the hills that he should die upon. He was still tempted, though. Especially when Lan Wangji was so insistent as to try and pry his mouth open and force the issue.

To be fair, it had shut him up.

For the moment.

-o-o-o-

“No,” said Wei Wuxian, earnestly. “It’s not food.”

It had been an indeterminate number of sleeps since Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji had been reunited, or rather, since Lan Wangji had bloody dragged him down into his cloth-bedecked sleeping nook and locked him up there.

They were currently having the same argument they had every time food was offered, which was sporadic because sometimes there was food to eat, and sometimes there wasn’t. Lan Wangji had just returned triumphantly and was trying to feed Wei Wuxian another mouthful of flesh and he was refusing.

Again.

Wei Wuxian tapped at the flat rock, insisting on going out to hunt for himself. Lan Wangji made a sharp negating motion, communicated by the faint swoosh of air when his hair flicked back and forth for his stern refusal.

“But that’s not food,” insisted Wei Wuxian, slapping the flat rock. “How many times do I have to promise not to leave you — not ever again?”

Swoosh.

“There’s no food in here!”

Swoosh.

“But I’m so hungry! You have to let me go out and—”

Wei Wuxian’s insistent noises were interrupted by Lan Wangji’s powerful body colliding with his. There was a short struggle as Wei Wuxian was forced into his husband’s lap and hand fed several morsels of raw meat, one after the other, amid noisy protests that could have been noisier, struggles that could have been fiercer.

It was a well-rehearsed dance between them at this point. After swallowing and coughing, Wei Wuxian rolled around on the soft ground and made noises like he was dying, while Lan Wangji looked on with probably a tolerant expression, because he’d had his way.

Food time was non-negotiable.

So sayeth Hanguang-Jun.

Finally Wei Wuxian slowed and then stopped, panting. “That’s not food,” he repeated, after a while of resting to regain his piteous amount of strength. The mouthfuls he received would have been plenty to survive on, if only he had a decent golden core. His downward spiral was much slowed, but not stopped.

Still, Wei Wuxian had his principles and was doing his damnedest to convince Lan Wangji to either let him out to hunt for himself, or bring him back steamed buns to eat, instead of pieces of other people. It remained a point of contention between them, among many.

“This is food,” and Wei Wuxian pulled out his legless, immobile steamed bun, though selfishly he did not offer to share. He’d spent the whole of the first lone hour digging this one out from under the layers of cloth — the granddaddy of all steamed buns — because Lan Wangji still refused to let him leave the nook.

Wei Wuxian understood. He refused to judge that Lan Wangji was willing to eat other things, because he knew no better. But in the end it didn’t matter. Wei Wuxian’s steamed buns weren’t as appetizing as the other option. Lan Wangji merely sniffed faintly and then knocked the wriggling thing away.

“Ai-yah, Lan Wangji!” and Wei Wuxian pouted mightily as he chased after the scuttling thing. “Why’d you do that? You won’t even eat them!”

It wasn’t like Lan Wangji was missing meals. He felt much the same, as strong as ever. But Wei Wuxian was skin and bones. He needed every single bite of steamed bun to survive. His emotions were truly unhinged when it came to food and nothing approached the hurt he felt when his little mouthful was flung away.

Managing to re-catch the hapless steamed bun from the clothy abyss, Wei Wuxian almost stuffed it into his mouth when Lan Wangji struck again. Stealthily his husband cast the mortally wounded, but still wiggling steamed bun onto the ground.

Wei Wuxian gasped, shocked. Then he heard Lan Wangji catch and gather up his dinner… and stuff it into his mouth.

Lan Wangji was eating his steamed bun!

Wei Wuxian couldn’t help the wave of furious rage that engulfed him like a wildfire. His hands shook, his mouth fell open and he sputtered. He followed that with complaint after complaint and he was so upset that control eluded him entirely, such that he threw the grandmother of all shitfits right there on the ground.

“Why did you do that?! What’s wrong with you? Do you want me to die?” and it was the first time Wei Wuxian had ever asked that question in complete seriousness, not knowing the answer in his heart. “I can’t eat anything else!”

There was a moment of complete silence.

Actually the silence was not complete, because he could hear Lan Wangji still chewing. It’s a stupid roach, it’s not worth being upset over, and he told himself that over and over. That problem was — it wasn’t true. Food was serious business right now. His ribs were painfully close to his skin and moreso, he recognized his surging emotions as related to starvation. He’d once been on the street, fighting other children and vicious dogs for food, and sometimes he’d lost. Those losses had been devastating and this was that same feeling. Years later, he was still unable to fully control those emotions.

At the verge of tears, Wei Wuxian was too upset to hear beyond the stormburst threatening within his ears, so he was taken by complete surprise when Lan Wangji hauled him close and… and now Lan Wangji was trying to feed him the damned half-chewed steamed bun. It was the world’s most disgusting kiss. He choked when Lan Wangji wouldn’t take no for an answer. Then he laughed and coughed and swallowed the mouthful. He couldn’t decide if pre-chewed was worse or not.

Lan Wangji huffed, a suspiciously pleased sound.

Wei Wuxian fell back on his bare ass and unpacked that with a slow blink of sightless eyes. Alright, so the problem was less that he wasn’t eating, but more that he was refusing Lan Wangji’s offerings of food. That made a twisted sort of sense, knowing how weirdly possessive his husband could be sometimes.

Wei Wuxian sniffed. “I have a very sophisticated palate.”

The silence between them seemed particularly satisfied. Then Lan Wangji grasped his hip and rolled him over. He didn’t argue, because he wanted it too. Anything to distract him from his slow, inevitable march towards death.

Damn him, they’d been fucking practically non-stop since he’d been captured and it still felt so good. His legs fell open and when Lan Wangji rolled him over, he hooked his heels and held on, encouraging his husband's efforts, enjoying the faintest sounds of pleasure in his husband's near-silent exhales. The sounds their bodies made were obscenely loud in the near-perfect quiet, but it still felt so damned good that he didn’t care. He was certain he should be feeling some shame about what they were doing.

He didn’t, though.

No, what actually shamed Wei Wuxian was far more mundane. Lan Wangji hadn’t let him leave the cave since the day he’d been captured. That had been more sleeps ago then he could remember and they’d fucked like animals constantly during their waking moments. It wasn’t like they had anything else to do in the dark… but the results were unquestionable.

They stank.

It was the reek that embarrassed Wei Wuxian, more than anything. He’d never ever let himself go like this, not even during the worst days of his life. He knew for a fact that Lan Wangji was even more fastidious about cleanliness then he was. Their situation was untenable and he was determined to do something about it.

The trick was getting Lan Wangji to accept the idea that he could go outside their little nook without feeling like he would lose him in the dark. It was harder than he’d imagined, because he had no idea how resistant Lan Wangji was to parting with him. He was starting to get the picture, though.

“We are going outside,” Wei Wuxian announced.

Grabbing hold of Lan Wangji, he fussed and whined until his husband followed him, allowing himself to be led around the nook. It was one of the things Wei Wuxian had taught him, with many kisses as his reward for being a good boy.

Lan Wangji was a sucker for kisses, it was true.

And so Wei Wuxian made his intentions known. He dragged Lan Wangji, one step at a time, towards the flat rock that kept him a dirty prisoner. “I want a bath,” he insisted. “You want a bath. You are the cleanest, most tidy man I know. So I know you want a bath too — you’ve just forgotten how and need me to save you from yourself!”

Wei Wuxian might have been wrong about that. Especially when Lan Wangji merely set his feet and refused to move the flat rock… and that was the end of the matter. For the rest of that sleep… and the next sleep… and the next.

But Wei Wuxian refused to give up.

“When are you going to trust me to go outside with you?” demanded Wei Wuxian, uselessly so, because his husband couldn’t understand him.

Pulling on his husband, Wei Wuxian led him to the flat rock that was the door to their home together and made begging noises.

It didn’t work.

At least, not the first time.

But three hundred times later… and after a compromise that had Wei Wuxian clinging to his husband’s back with the express understanding that if his feet so much as touched the floor there would be consequences… they finally left the nook together.

More progress.

Now if only Lan Wangji could be coaxed into the sanctuary pool for a bath...

-o-o-o-

Wei Wuxian had never bathed a cat before.

But if he had, he would have recognized the experience. The biggest problem was that Lan Wangji seemed to like the way he smelled. The evidence was ample. Being a dangerous-smelling feral in the dark was useful for clearing out the little ferals so he wasn’t constantly being bothered. Bathing was counterproductive and so he was naturally resistant. And it wasn’t like Wei Wuxian hadn’t taken precautions; he’d waited until Lan Wangji had exhausted himself fucking his Wei Ying before making his announcement. Surely it helped that his husband was still sex-drunk, satiated and therefore more pliant, but still.

Mn.

“Lan Zhan!” he cried, flailing over Lan Wangji's back, directing him back towards the water. “I can’t think with you smelling like this!”

Splashing into the shallows, Wei Wuxian dared jump down and forced his dirty cabbage into the shallows, taking out his legs so he landed on his bottom, waist deep. He took care to keep tight hold of his husband, which didn’t seem to violate the agreement of “stay on me or else” that had calmed Wei Wuxian’s constant crying, at least until that very moment, when victory and a squeaky clean cabbage was almost within his grasp!

“Mn,” complained Lan Wangji.

“Quit whining,” insisted Wei Wuxian, heartlessly so. “It’s not so bad!”

Brandishing his rag-wrapped hand like a weapon, Wei Wuxian kept over the top of Lan Wangji as he feverishly scrubbed down his husband’s handsome body. Has he lost some weight too? he wondered, noticing hollows where before there hadn’t been. Then his attention was diverted by his struggle. The difficulty was that Lan Wangji could only tolerate his neck and upper body being stimulated for so long before initiating other activities, which made the scrubbing part very difficult. 

Wei Wuxian yelped and squirreled around, frantically scrubbing while Lan Wangji tried to pull them back towards the sleeping nook. Wei Wuxian couldn’t understand what was so terrible about a little bath. He mentioned this loudly. Frequently, and at length. He knew it wasn’t the cool water, because Cold Spring was much colder. He was now entirely convinced that Lan Zhan liked his own smell.

Wei Wuxian could relate — he liked it too — but that was no excuse to let oneself go to the point that one could kill a small goat at twenty paces! Goats were expensive and clean was clean; enough was enough. He redoubled his efforts to scrub, scrub, scrub, but a handful of swipes down his husband’s lower belly had Lan Wangji reconsidering whether they were spending their time together wisely.

“Ai-yah that’s not what we are doing,” Wei Wuxian tried to protest as Lan Wangji turned and curled around him. “It’s bath time!” and he kept scrubbing regardless. Strong fingers kept interfering with his rag, snagging his wrists and tucking them away.

Lan Wangji hefted Wei Wuxian easily — he’d lost so much weight he could feel the man’s hands practically squeeze into his bones — and with both hands around his waist, began rubbing Wei Wuxian’s naughty places all over his clean belly, lower and lower until threatening him with a good time.

Replacing the lost scent.

“Ya-ya-ya, I see what you’re doing,” snapped Wei Wuxian. Then he caught himself. He couldn’t see what Lan Wangji was doing. He couldn’t see his husband’s beautiful pale-gold eyes, his intense expression, hadn’t seen his husband’s actual face in months. “Or I wish I could,” he corrected with a sigh.

Then Wei Wuxian’s wistful expression hardened, because bath time was no longer an optional activity. He might even try and clean their bedding, though he wasn’t sure how Lan Wangji would react to him dragging his favorite and only thing in their entire sanctuary out towards the water.

The smell was eye-watering.

Lan Wangji was of a different opinion. He was actually rather tolerant, considering what a short fuse he processed once all of his carefully applied regression and suppression that comprised over four thousand rules and countless hours of meditation and self-control had been stripped away from him.

The man was possessive, perpetually horny, and suddenly angry in that exact order, especially if anything happened to threaten the satisfaction of those first two things.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, stinky man!” cried Wei Wuxian, scrabbling as he was thrown over Lan Wangji’s shoulder for the short walk back to the nook and the pile of filthy rags that always made his head dizzy. “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhaaaaaaaaaaan!”

Sometimes squealing Lan Wangji’s name — specifically ‘Lan Zhan’ would stop his husband and he could be coaxed back to the water. This was one of those times.

“See, Lan Zhan?” he crooned, rocking up and down with a pleased sound. “Isn’t it nice? Being clean again — don’t you like it?”

Maybe he did.

Maybe he didn’t.

Maybe it was just that Lan Wangji couldn’t walk straight while balls deep in his Wei Ying and chest-deep in cool water. Whatever the reason, the results spoke for themselves. When he finally dragged an exhausted-but-satisfied Wei Wuxian back into their nook, he was the most squeaky-clean cabbage in the dark.

-o-o-o-

Wei Wuxian had an itch.

It started when the bonfire had first roared to life. Wei Wuxian wanted to see Lan Wangji’s face again, bathed in a golden glow. The thought gave him something to focus on and he was certain that it should be safe enough inside the sanctuary, where others wouldn’t see the light.

Their sanctuary had once been used by men in previous ceremonies, because the interior was littered with bones. Slowly he gathered them up and began piling them in a central location. He tried to get Lan Wangji to help, but his husband was incapable of understanding speech and there was no way to share gestures in the dark.

There was something infuriating about having to struggle to do something so mindless and basic as starting a fire. If he were back home in Cloud Recesses, he could have lit a candle with a wave of his hand, or start an actual fire with a talisman.

Here, in this miserable hellhole, Wei Wuxian didn’t dare do any of those things. He had to resort to rubbing stones together over dry old bones, like a peasant. Bones were not an ideal substance to burn and he had a miserable time, which offended him profoundly. Several times he gave up in disgust, too frustrated by the glacial pace and his sore wrist. He tried to convince Lan Wangji to do it for him, but his husband could not perceive what was being asked or why.

Lan Wangji’s opinion of the two rocks and pile of bones and Wei Wuxian’s alternating waves of excitement and frustration couldn’t have been lower. If pressed too insistently, he would merely scoop up Wei Wuxian and take him back to their furrow in the nook and try to fuck the quirkiness out of him.

Needless to say Lan Wangji was a great distraction, but otherwise no help at all.

It took three sleeps before Wei Wuxian managed to finally get a lick of flame out of his two rocks, and then he was excited enough to continue long enough that a fire started. The glow was tiny at first. He fed the fire bone after bone, until he could see his husband’s eyes and face.

Lan Wangji looked enchanted.

Excited, Wei Wuxian grabbed a long bone that was burning brightly and lifted it like a torch. He thrust it aloft suddenly, intending to see more of his husband, except—

—except for a glittering reflection directly above and around them, returning the light in a gleam of countless eyes amid countless toothy mouths, leering down upon them.

Wei Wuxian looked up and saw his reflection within the glow in the eyes of countless grinning, leering things. They were not of any round, glittering water-world. They’d not been born of mothers, or created by any loving being and so were not recognizable by men. They were from the outer darkness, dwellers of the spaces between spaces. Even the most advanced of races in the universe, with their sublight core gravity drive and lofty dreams of crossing vast spaces like a pencil might stab through paper had met their doom while transgressing upon the dimension these things were from. Wei Wuxian had no hope of withstanding their direct attention. His mind folded in upon itself in a desperate act of self-preservation, incapable of making rational sense of what he was seeing.

Then all eyes focused on him in one awful moment. All the mouths gaped and grinned, each one a rictus of perfect malevolence; the purest distillation of evil.

Demons.

Not the sometimes cute, ultimately recognizable and genealogically traceable, one-mouth-and-two-eyes sort of monster or incarnate that anyone could immediately see was of earthly origin, but that some people laughingly insisted on calling “demons” and so unintentionally watered down the word until it held no meaning.

Wei Wuxian, having just been given a new definition of the word demon — or the truthful definition of a much older concept — freaked the ever-loving fuck out. He threw the bone torch up at the faces, who merely snapped it up with a frenzy of teeth; needle teeth, sawing teeth, shark teeth, and things that made those teeth look like the fluff from a goose-down pillow.

Lan Wangji looked up for just a moment and then back down at Wei Wuxian, confused. He startled and bolted after a hysterical Wei Wuxian, who fled back to their sleeping cave and buried himself inside. Lan Wangji didn’t understand, but hovered protectively regardless.

It was beneath Lan Wangji’s warmth and concern that Wei Wuxian remained for another few sleeps, barely accepting food and water from his husband’s fearful mouth. During that time he was uncharacteristically silent, unmoving, perhaps even unthinking.

 Sometime later, Wei Wuxian finally came back to his senses. Lan Wangji had been deeply affected by his maddened state, to the point that he’d buried Wei Wuxian in his furrow, beneath the protection of his bare body.

Wei Wuxian’s returning thoughts churned like a storm-tossed sea. There’s no way I missed them hovering like that, not all this time. I’ve been so happy lately, he realized. I’ve been content enough to laugh and play with Lan Zhan. They must have heard me, must have realized I’m happy down here, so long as I have him with me.  

Lan Wangji snuffled contentedly above him, happy to feel him moving and stirring from his near-catatonic state. He might have been less content if he had perceived what Wei Wuxian had… if he was party to Wei Wuxian’s intense fears. They don’t want happy. I need to start crying again, or they are going to give me reasons to cry. He shivered at the thought, and then started up a steady whining, telling his husband how horrible everything was.

Lan Wangji perked up, happy to hear Wei Wuxian’s voice. He was happy, because he didn’t speak and couldn’t understand language.

The demons could.

 You want bitching, thought Wei Wuxian hatefully up towards the ceiling, where a countless number of nightmare eyes were watching. You want proof of suffering and unhappiness. I will give you bitching. I will bitch and complain so much you’ll swell up and choke on it.

They may not have choked, but the demons were party to some choice bitching. Above Wei Wuxian, a much happier Lan Wangji basked in the sound of his voice. It was the best he could do, but apparently it was enough.

Wei Wuxian never saw their unknowable faces again.

-o-o-o-

It took time, but eventually Wei Wuxian grew accustomed to his new life in the dark. He made sure to make plenty of bitching comments and complaints pointed upwards at the ceiling, to protect his precious husband, who cared for him as best he could. Wei Wuxian took any steamed buns that were offered by his husband, and they fucked and slept and fucked some more.

Wei Wuxian suffered the inevitable bruises and pains, the difficulties of sleeping when your backside no longer had sufficient padding for comfort. But finally, after countless sleeps, he awoke to find he couldn’t stand. He no longer had the strength. Several times he tried, and several times he crashed back to the thick pile that was their bedding. His head hurt and his equilibrium was shot.

“Hey,” whispered Wei Wuxian to Lan Wangji, who was stirring next to him, roused by all the falling. “Wake up, look at this,” he gasped, rubbing at the hollow between his chest muscles. He tried to stand and fell again, landing on his husband’s conclave belly.

“I think I might be dying.”

Lan Wangji huffed, and then fussed over Wei Wuxian. Several more falls later, he seemed to realize something was truly wrong, beyond his Wei Ying’s regular crying and moaning for attention and affection. He roused himself and considered.

Gathering Wei Wuxian up, he carried his weak body down to the sanctuary pool, where Wei Wuxian took a long drink. “It’s not enough,” he murmured, honestly. “I feel faint all the time.”

Lan Wangji didn’t understand the words, but seemed to realize the despair. He nestled Wei Wuxian against his back. Then he settled down, body pointed at the water of the pool intently. It was if he thought that if he waited long enough, food would appear and then he could feed Wei Wuxian with such imaginary things.

“There’s no food there,” said Wei Wuxian, in a hopeless mumble. “I checked, there’s no fish or crawdads, or anything. You need to go hunting for steamed buns. Lots of them, I think.”

‘More than he could find, and further out then he could hunt for,’ is what Wei Wuxian meant. They’d all but exhausted the supply within easy reach.

Starvation seemed inevitable. Feeling feverish, Wei Wuxian continued to mumble for a while, until the sound of his own voice lulled him to sleep. He drowsed against Lan Wangji’s back for some time, until he was rudely jostled by Lan Wangji thrusting his hand down into a water-filled crack with sharp edges.

“Wha?” asked Wei Wuxian, fearfully.

A thoroughly-splashed Lan Wangji made a triumphant “mmh,” in answer and then hauled Wei Wuxian close, into his soaking lap. His fingers hooked into Wei Wuxian’s mouth, forcing his lips open.

Cautiously Wei Wuxian obeyed with nervous noises, squeaking with shock when something thick and meaty and still weakly moving was thrust into his mouth, filling all the spaces. Wei Wuxian choked and coughed in shock. He would have spit the thing out, but Lan Wangji wasn’t having any of that. He slapped a harsh hand over Wei Wuxian’s mouth, forcing him to contend with the mystery mouthful.

And contend with the fresh mouthful of raw meat, Wei Wuxian absolutely did. He bit, chewed, and flinched when sand grains crunched under his teeth. Whatever that had been, it was some sort of worm-like animal.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian squealed, delighted. “Where — how did you catch this!?” and he wriggled around, trying to crawl into the pool. “Show me how you caught this thing! This is food, Lan Zhan!”

Lan Wangji hauled him back, pressed him back against his back, sighed over his bleeding wrist — the sharp rocks where food was hiding were no joke — and went back to sitting silently, poised like an ambush predator.

“Ahh, ohh, Lan Zhan,” said Wei Wuxian, resting his chin on a slimmer-than-normal shoulder with wide eyes. “You have to be quiet and wait for them to come out — is that it?”

Lan Wangji made a warning noise.

“Yah, yah, I’ll be quiet,” said Wei Wuxian, merrily so. “You catch me more of those, okay?” and he settled down to wait. He was so excited that his body trembled. If there was a plate of those worms right in front of him, then he would eat them all, wiggling the way down, worms were so much better then roaches, if only he'd been fed worms all this time instead of—

Wei Wuxian must have fainted again, because his eyes had closed and he’d lost track of time. Apparently the worms were not easy to catch. Lan Wangji was still a warm, silent presence at his back. He remained coiled as if to strike, clearly waiting for some sort of sign. But it wasn’t Lan Wangji that had roused Wei Wuxian.

It was a strange sensation that stirred him back to a half-conscious state, had him jolting back awake and casting his fingers questing behind him, confirming that Lan Wangji was still there. Then the tickling sensation returned. Someone was touching his face. He felt soft lips trace over his cheek and mouth, followed by gentle fingers touching over his face.

“Lan Zhan?” asked Wei Wuxian, mouthing affectionately over the fingers touching his mouth. He was momentarily confused how he could be propped up against Lan Wangji’s back and be kissing his face. Then something dropped into his lap; something half-covered with dirt and ending in heavily chewed fingers.

A food offering?

“Oh, heavens!” said Wei Wuxian, his voice rising up several octaves. “Lan Zhan, we have company—!”

It was Fèngfēng.

Lan Wangji reacted to Wei Wuxian’s fearful noise, launching up and around Wei Wuxian to deal with the raiding Fèngfēng, who met him head on and without fear. They began to struggle in the dark, a few paces away from Wei Wuxian, who cried out fearfully for his husband. “Be careful, Lan Zhan!” and he’d have helped, but no longer had the strength. He had to listen to the one-sided battle instead, half-curled and helpless.

Lan Wangji and Fèngfēng really were evenly matched, but with one serious exception: Lan Wangji had an ailing mate to feed and protect, while Fèngfēng was alone. Fèngfēng’s foraging was solely for himself, while Lan Wangji was splitting his meager meals with someone who had a barely-there golden core and needed far more than the cavern could reasonably provide. It wasn’t enough and so Lan Wangji had begun going without. He relied solely on his own internal strength until he finally started losing weight, meaning Fèngfēng was bulkier now, with a greater measure of retained strength.

The two rivals circled, drove against, and circled again, each trying to unseat the other, with Fèngfēng making confident noises during each grapple. Unknown to Wei Wuxian, but becoming apparent with how Lan Wangji was reacting, it seemed Fèngfēng had defeated him in their last few wrestling matches. They’d both regained a small measure of their true selves, and apparently Fèngfēng was a man to be reckoned with. Finally, a desperately moving Lan Wangji drew Fèngfēng away, out through the crack and beyond.

While Lan Wangji was gone, a piteously weak Wei Wuxian investigated the hand and then cringed heartily. It was a smaller hand, surely a Zuihou; perhaps someone who had succumbed to violence. There was no way in hell he could eat such a thing, even if it wasn’t already rotten. He carefully buried the hand instead.

“Why is Fèngfēng bringing me food here?” mumbled Wei Wuxian, nervous. “Why wouldn’t he try to steal me away?” and he wrung his hands for fear, until the effort became too much. He wanted to crawl back into their sleeping cave. He wanted to curl up in the hollow that matched his starving body, but he wasn’t able to abandon the situation in the distance, not until he knew Lan Wangji had returned safely.

And so Wei Wuxian crawled, elbow over elbow, towards the crack. He slowly wiggled through, trying to find his husband. When he could hear them wrestling, he curled into a sitting position, unintentionally adjacent to a messy puddle. He breathed in the smell of his husband until his mind grew muzzy and his cock filled out. Too exhausted to move away, he mindlessly stroked himself to ease the ache between his legs, until he emptied out onto the ground. His mind cleared a bit though the simmer remained as always, but his cock softened at least.

Finally the wrestling match seemed to end.

Someone had won.

A faint flutter of air suggested Lan Wangji might have returned. Wei Wuxian was sure it was Lan Wangji, but he didn’t take risks anymore. He didn’t want the consequences of calling Fèngfēng down upon himself. Resorting to something more reliable, he tossed some pebbles, knowing that Lan Wangji was immune to his tricks and would follow the noise back to him, but curiously there came no air currents. It was as if time was standing still.

“Lan Er-gege?” mouthed Wei Wuxian, suddenly frightened.

Even that little puff of breath felt too loud, and then someone pounced on him. Or rather, just settled over the top of him and then gathered him up into a broad lap. It wasn’t Lan Wangji’s lap, and his heart leapt into his throat as Fèngfēng rumbled happily, crowing his victory while cradling his new captive close.

“Lan Zhan?!” and Wei Wuxian began to crawl away, towards the last place he might have heard Lan Wangji. He was confused when Fèngfēng let him wriggle free, petting further down his body as he crawled away into the sandy-gravel towards his real husband, who should be here but wasn’t, and he was feeling a hysterical fit coming on—

Thankfully, a coughing “mhn, uuf” noise answered from the darkness, as Lan Wangji gathered himself up from the floor where he’d passed out. Apparently Fèngfēng had released his throat before he’d strangled, but he was still floundering.

Fèngfēng followed slowly behind. He hovered around them, bearing witness to their near-hysterical reunion. It was clear that Wei Wuxian was pair-bonded to Lan Wangji and only him. Fèngfēng’s tolerant amusement seemed out of place in the darkness, but Wei Wuxian was starting to realize something. If Lan Zhan is coming back to his senses thanks to his strong golden core, then maybe… maybe this man is too?

A flustered, struggling Lan Wangji gathered up Wei Wuxian and headed straight for their sanctuary. He wiggled through the crack and raced directly towards the sleeping cave. He seemed unusually terrified and whirled several times to strike at Fèngfēng, who seemed keen to continue their pointless wrestling, which Lan Wangji wished no part of.

Not when Wei Wuxian might be taken from him.

Lan Wangji huffed aggressively as Fèngfēng kept pace, making amused noises. Fèngfēng only stopped when Lan Wangji blocked off the sleeping cave with the huge flat rock, which he hadn’t been doing for a while. Lan Wangji practically grunted and staggered to move the massive thing, like he hadn’t ever done before. He was weakening, too.

Outside, Fèngfēng sighed as if disappointed his playmates had abandoned him. It was as if he was thinking to share territories, share a mate, like the weaker groups of Zuìchū tended to do, though it should be painfully obvious that Lan Wangji would rather fucking die.

“I think he’s lonely,” whispered Wei Wuxian, curling down into the soft cloth hollow where his husband had nestled him. “He might be a fun guy to know in the real world.” Then Wei Wuxian sighed as a panting Lan Wangji covered his body like a heated blanket, warming him, body and soul.

Wei Wuxian carefully reached up and explored Lan Wangji’s sore neck, withdrawing for his husband’s irritable hiss. The skin was bruised, not broken, and so Wei Wuxian was contented to shower his poor enraged husband with loving kisses instead. “My poor Lan Zhan,” he crooned between mouthing kisses. “My poor, angry husband!”

Lan Wangji grunted towards the flat rock door in sheerest hatred. He was hopping mad. He was so mad he was still huffing and kept rubbing at his throat, disliking the taste of his own medicine.

How many men had he strangled in the dark in this place?

Somehow the thought left Wei Wuxian giggling, though it might have been an oncoming fever for all the stress. Even so, he was feeling relieved to know his husband was alright, and the person mostly likely to kill him seemed uninclined to end their rivalry on such a note. For Lan Wangji’s part, he was unrepentant. He would’ve killed Fèngfēng if he were capable, if only to protect Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian giggled until he cried, unable to control his emotions, unable to keep a coherent thought in his mind. There was a big mouthful of worm meat in his stomach, so that helped, but it wasn’t enough to keep him going much longer. He imagined he only had a few days left before he would fall asleep and then never wake up.

“Lan Zhan,” whispered Wei Wuxian faintly in the darkness. “I really think I am dying.”

Suddenly, Wei Wuxian felt the massive suppression array above them start to hum. Light burst through the cracks past the flat rock door. The array was rearranging itself into a new pattern, and Wei Wuxian picked past his husband’s angry-protective crouching to realize—

It’s a teleportation array now.

That means…oh heavens has it really been six months down here!?!

A brilliant flash of light from the teleportation ray interrupted Wei Wuxian’s shocked musings, his haphazard and incoherent calculations, as the long nightmare had indeed officially ended and the both of them vanished in a hail of glorious light, but not before Wei Wuxian managed one last scream—

“—hahaha fuck you scum-sucking freaks to hell we made it—!”

Chapter Text

Lan Wangji was reborn into darkness.

There was a flash of something he couldn’t understand as the summoning spell faded away. That became his very first memory. He was an empty slate, a cup with no contents as the darkness enveloped him. For the span of a single breath, he found the heavy dark comforting, like a weighted blanket. Comforting and natural, because he couldn’t remember anything before that moment. He knew nothing better and so questioned nothing. His instincts guided him wholly and for a single, solitary instant, everything was alright.

Then a wall of pheromone-drenched scent punched Lan Wangji in the face. His mind reeled and his emotions were agitated, like a stone thrown into a still pond. His instincts started screaming. So did the men around him, adding infuriating noise to match the sudden stench of disaster — and then someone attacked him. Those first experiences meant that the dawning hour of his new life was spent battling his own kind.

The sounds and smells and hands of his fellow Zuìchū assaulted his senses of smell, hearing, and even his flesh. The wall of noise gave him an instant headache. The acrid stench made him want to scratch out his nasal passages. Beset from all sides — intolerably so — he separated himself from them in every way possible; mentally, physically, and spiritually. His kind roared at him with many voices and the chemical instructions in his blood roared back. Fortunately the body he was blessed with was more then up to the task. The enclosed space and heavy scents spurred him to ultra-violence and he left carnage in his wake.

Unlike them, Lan Wangji didn’t bother with threats. He didn’t snarl or growl during fights. He didn’t yelp when injured. He maintained perfect silence and a constant killing intent. He was a ghost in the darkness; the worst thing that anyone would encounter in the bowels of this artificial hellhole of demonic design. He spent the first dawning of his life brutally murdering everything that crossed his path with no exceptions — though in that way he and his rivals were much the same.

No mercy.

But not everything was clear-cut.

There were calls in the weighty dark that were different than normal Zuìchū noises. These confused him. His instincts assured him they were meant for other things than fighting. The sound of them sent his blood surging downward between his legs, instead of towards his limbs for fighting. Beneath the need for violence were other urges; secondary to fighting for territory or domination. Those urges encouraged restlessness. But because he was in the midst of violence, he ignored them.

Mostly.

There was something in the crowd he couldn’t wholly disregard; a unique call in the pandemonium.

“Lanzhan! Lanzhan!”

Music.

It was musical communication; an ordered sound composed of complex tones. Lan Wangji’s body responded uniquely to that particular cry, because it made something inside him pulse like a light. Somehow that song was meant for him. He wanted to follow the sound, but his hands and teeth were too busy. His rage was too encompassing to pay the voice heed, but something in his chest constricted in a confusing way. Nourished by his golden core, his heart alone remembered that voice and throbbed in earnest.

Unfortunately, his heart and his mind weren’t on speaking terms. His surroundings were difficult to navigate. His rivals were too many. The other Zuìchū were too persistent for Lan Wangji to pay any attention to lesser concerns than survival. The spectre of death was amidst them; collecting souls all around him. He could be taken at any moment. Then, for a moment, ghoulish light burst forth from above.

It stabbed Lan Wangji’s eyes like a knife.

Blinding streams of brilliant light radiated down from the ceiling, hurting Lan Wangji’s brain and spurring his headache into a migraine. He separated from his current opponent, who crumpled to the ground and gasped, color returning to his cheeks. After a moment Lan Wangji adjusted enough to squint. Then he stared at the man on the ground. Blurry, teary eyes widened to encompass the men around him. He was shocked to see what sort of creatures that he and they were. He stared at his hands — soaked in blood — and his red-splattered belly.

Lan Wangji’s clothing was ripped open, mere tatters. His eyes cast downward; taking in the confusing sight and then lingering on the part of him that was jutting out between his legs. His was bigger than other men, though he didn’t notice. That part of him was of particular interest because it throbbed and ached, thanks to the scents and the music. He looked up and stared at the men who were still struggling around him, even though the light still pained their eyes. They were affected by the music the same way, but nothing he was seeing made sense.

It was beyond comprehension.

Then the light went out. He heard a crack-boom throughout the cavern, shaking the walls and floor. The vibration set the bone-white pebbles dancing. There was no time to ponder, even if he could’ve formed thoughts, because his rival was back on his feet and lunging at him.

Lan Wangji met him mid-charge.

Strong fingers returned to the man’s neck and finished the fight.

-o-o-o-

Nearing the end of that first bloodbath, Lan Wangji was raked, torn, bitten, and bleeding. He was sticky with blood over much of his body, though most of it wasn’t his. He’d killed plenty of rivals, but the sounds and smells of his fellow Zuìchū remained deeply offensive. It didn’t matter that their scent was less concentrated, so that his overstimulated brain could finally process his surroundings without the drumbeat of war.

Lan Wangji was hurt and angry, wholly without comforts of any kind. By the end of that first waking period he’d come to hate being alive, almost as much as he hated the seething hatred he felt for everyone around him. It was exhausting. Nothing about his first dawning wakefulness had been tolerable. He completely forgot the enigmatic music in the darkness. Fuming wordlessly, he began to distance himself from absolutely everyone and everything.

It didn’t help that Lan Wangji felt no kinship with other Zuìchū. He felt nothing for anyone else around him. That left him feeling strangely bereft, but without understanding what forced solitude even was. In his perception, he was merely suffering a general state of complete and utter unhappiness.

So Lan Wangji struck out and ranged as far away from other Zuìchū as he could. As soon as he managed to find a corner in the dark that didn’t contain any smells, his mind finally cleared. The red haze in his eyelids — colors he couldn’t actually see — eased away.

Such a better state of being!

Having experienced peace and quiet, Lan Wangji wanted nothing more than to escape as far as possible from his own kind. Maintaining that sense of order meant everything to him. He breathed, sighed, and breathed more. After licking his wounds, he settled down to rest, which soon deepened into sleep.

There were colors in his dreams!

Someone lived there, chattering endlessly. Flitting around him like a butterfly in vivid reds and blacks against a backdrop of blues and greens. It was bright there. Whites and pale blues swirled around his legs and fluttered in the breeze. He had no words for white clothing or blue sky or green bushes or… or any of the things he experienced. But his focus was always the same: a smiling face with beautiful silver eyes and a voice that sang strange songs until his heart pounded so hard it wrested him back from sleep, even as a forbidden cry burst forth from his throat.

“Wei Ying!”

Gasping, Lan Wangji startled back into the darkness. The dream vision, so clear to him while asleep, was brutally crushed beneath the suppression array. He thrashed and his fingers clenched as if trying to keep hold of his understanding. It was an impossible task. Despite his best efforts, only snatches and impressions survived the demonic purge. He rolled over and sat up, shaking. He suffered a bone-deep confusion and feverishly searched his immediate surroundings for... something he’d lost.

There were no traces of the strange things he’d experienced, but when he closed his eyes, vague impressions of music and glittering silver eyes remained. He clutched at the half-memory generated from his deepest places; the powerful golden core he no longer knew he had. There was no scent associated with that beautiful face. Nothing that his feral mind could understand, but the voice matched the musical one from yesterday. Associated with that voice was a sound he held onto with all his focus.

Wei Ying.

Lan Wangji internalized the sound without further understanding, and settled down again, but the warm blanket of darkness no longer satisfied him. His inner peace was lost as quickly as that. He tried to go back to sleep and return the bright place, but he couldn’t.

After giving up on sleep, a very thirsty Lan Wangji finally located a source of water. The fighting had quieted down, which soothed his nerves somewhat. He was drawn to the splashing of flowing water and approached cautiously. Plunging warily, he drank his fill. Bathing wasn’t a thing and he paid no heed to the tatters that hung from his waist.

Lurking there, Lan Wangji explored the sensation of water splashing over his toes. He heard noises in the distance and contemplated nothing. Content in the moment, he listened without intention right up until a distant voice broke the silence. He recognized the call, though purely as a musical tone.

“Lan Zhan!”

It was the voice from his dream!

Lan Wangji remembered the sound associated with the voice — Wei Ying — and reacted instantly. He stood up from a crouch and rushed out to claim him. The voice came again and again, making his heart flutter, but he found it difficult to reach Wei Ying. There were too many obstacles in the darkness. He was still learning to navigate his environment. While he was making steady progress memorizing landmarks by touch, by the time it took him to reach any one spot, Wei Ying had always moved on, or been driven away.

It felt like a game of cat and mouse.

Casting out from the relative calm of the cavern borders, Lan Wangji routinely found himself back into the fray, hunting after Wei Ying’s captivating song. That chase became a driving force of anticipation and aggravation for Lan Wangji, especially over the next few sleeps. It didn’t help that Lan Wangji always encountered his fellow Zuìchū heading the same direction, with the same sort of intentions.

After a Zuihou was cornered, a massive ruckus would be heard throughout the dark of the cavern. Instincts stirred, Lan Wangji was lured towards those fights in case his rivals had cornered his Wei Ying. Alas, there were plenty of incursions to investigate. It was difficult for Lan Wangji to reach the nearest ones, much less the fights further out. Several times he’d attacked and intercepted fights, needing to make sure Wei Ying wasn’t the prize being fought over. But the few Zuihou he’d dragged away to investigate with harsh fingers had different voices. He didn’t want them, because they weren’t his.

They weren’t Wei Ying.

Darkness was his waking life, but after the first waking, Lan Wangji lived to sleep, perchance to dream. He lived to experience the bright and musical world in those colorful visions that sometimes came to him while asleep. There were no words or symbols left in his mind. Nothing to attach to anything or anyone in the darkness, but he yearned regardless. Between his wary hunting for Wei Ying, he tried to sleep as often as possible. He longed to return to the bright place. He wanted to stay there, instead of where he actually was; in a miserable dark cavern full of rivals and smells he hated.

But the lesser Zuihou did smell good, in a visceral sort of way.

Lan Wangji enjoyed the way their smell aroused his interest. He was still a man, after all. The pleasure of arousal, of a building erection was novel and something to explore. Several times he captured and then subdued Zuihou he encountered in the darkness. After following their scent and pouncing, he’d been surprised when they’d fought him. Somehow he hadn’t expected that. And so he’d learned to subdue them first — fiercely for his own safety. He would bully them until they would lie haplessly on the ground so he could smell them without taking injury. Their scent always aroused him in a very animalistic sort of way.

Lan Wangji always investigated, but never penetrated or kept them. They couldn’t compare with Wei Ying from his visions. Their voices fell short of the music that lived in his mind. His golden core kept that vision vivid, such that he couldn’t tolerate any lesser music, no matter how good they smelled.

Lan Wangji’s golden core was far stronger than most of the other ferals trapped with him. Unknowing, he reaped the passive benefits; a much lesser need for food and water, and the strange visions, which provided him a sense of self and self-control beyond that of a mere animal. And so he never claimed the lesser Zuihou. He would breathe them until his mind would reel. If he stayed too long breathing that scent, the vision would overtake him. Then he would shiver in spasm, curling over himself, his fingers clutching at the hard shaft between his legs, until he spurted a different sort of mess upon the ground. Usually when he came back to his senses, the Zuihou would be gone.

The other Zuìchū were much the same, though they weren't particular about claiming or penetration as Lan Wangji was. They kept residual mental traces as well, but only as strong as their cores, which varied. Those without cores, or with nascent seed cores, had the worst of the mental and cultivation suppression. These ferals were responsible for the worst of the fighting.

Well, them and Lan Wangji, who hated disorderly rivals enough to kill over it.

-o-o-o-

The sleeps came and went.

Lan Wangji began suffering from some serious problems. One of the strongest Zuìchū seemed to consistently match him in strength and intention. This Zuìchū — eventually named Fèngfēng by Wei Wuxian in a fit of whimsy — was a constant thorn in his side.

Several times over the course of the next few sleeps Lan Wangji heard the compelling call of “Lanzhan! Lanzhan!” that echoed out from the dark like a siren song. And without fail, Lan Wangji would encounter Fèngfēng and lose valuable time battling him into an impasse that could last hours. It was part of why Lan Wangji missed every chance at claiming Wei Ying, who was the only voice he wanted in the darkness.

Wei Ying, with his compelling voice and enigmatic presence, would never know how many dangerous Zuìchū hadn’t reached him, because Lan Wangji had intercepted them halfway, including Fèngfēng. This protection proved costly, both in terms of frustration and minor wounds. An infuriated Lan Wangji blamed his rivals for frustrating his attempts to capture Wei Ying for himself. He took out his frustrations on them with near-religious zeal, such that only the strongest Zuìchū survived their encounters with him. As the bodies hit the floor, the weakest ones took note of his scent and began steering clear.

Time passed for Lan Wangji, the sleeps uncounted.

After a particularly pointless standoff with Fèngfēng that finally ended with them parting for pure necessity — once again breaking his killing streak — a triumphant but otherwise unsatisfied Lan Wangji returned to the water source he’d memorized. There he drank his fill, though he remained unfulfilled. He still felt no urge to bathe himself and merely settled there. His mind, devoid of thought, was guided by emotions and desires, which were ruled by instincts. He didn’t wonder why anything was the way it was, because he knew nothing else.

So as long as Lan Wangji could retreat to somewhere remote where he couldn’t smell his rivals, he became reasonably content. After achieving the minimum of reasonable contentment in the moment, his instincts demanded he attend to a number of things; the pursuit of which was all-consuming and directed his actions while awake. They were a nebulous thing that depended heavily on scent and looked something like this:

Defeat rivals.

Claim Wei Ying and defend him.

And some third, indefinable thing he had yet to understand, but was heavily dependent on his capturing Wei Ying and husbanding the hell out of him, which currently he was failing badly at.

There was actually a fourth pursuit, but it wasn’t conscious enough to be an active number of things that drove him forth into the darkness, like his current focus of capturing Wei Ying. His golden core initially delayed his need for that fourth thing without him even knowing. It wasn’t encoded into his instincts and so didn’t add to his restlessness. And yet, after those first handfuls of frustrating sleeps, it became the primary driving factor of his life.

Lan Wangji was hungry.

Hangry, even.

Suffering from ridiculously stupid amounts of stomach-grinding hunger. The problem was that hunger should have been sated by the bodies of his rivals: the smelly leavings left behind once he’d wrested their lives from them. That was the expectation of the horrific beings that had created this place, not that he knew any of that. Eating one’s rivals was what everyone else did, but Lan Wangji had a unique problem.

Rivals didn’t have to be enemies. No one was consciously eating anyone else. Eating was secondary to fighting and bodies were always about, generally.  It was within the realm of possibility that if there were no consistent Zuihou scents then enemies could become frenemies. They could form packs and even co-habituate into bachelor groups. These groups would wage war on other groups, hence bodies always being available for eating. Such associations were always tenuous, because the weakest male would soon find himself suffering attention he didn’t want, but couldn’t fight off.

Lan Wangji’s problem was one of personality. He didn’t want to be frenemies. He wanted to be left alone. He needed his own space with no other smells except his own and... and whatever his Wei Ying smelled like. It wasn’t that he disliked his fellow Zuìchū; it was much worse than that.

Lan Wangji absolutely fucking hated them.

He hated their sounds. Their scents enraged him. He detested how they would defecate after death. He killed them and then moved on immediately, refusing to linger. He resisted the urge to abuse their bodies, which would have led to feasting, because his hate for their scent bordered on the verge of physical pain. He wasn’t eating something he couldn’t stand that much — he just wasn’t capable. Death didn’t make it any better. In fact, death made things even worse, because now they really stank.

That ended up causing Lan Wangji a unique problem: he needed to find something to eat that wasn’t supplied by his own activities. So a thing that shouldn’t have been a thing based on the situation he’d been thrust into became a thing that built sleep-by-sleep into a blinding need. His screaming stomach forced him to abandon his hunt for Wei Ying while searching for something to eat.

A number of sleeps and a few bright dreams later, after exploring every nook and cranny of the underground cavern, Lan Wangji finally encountered something he deemed “food.” Something that didn’t smell like rancid ass and didn’t skitter underfoot (roaches are not food unless death was nigh because he was sure there was a rule somewhere or he would have thought so if he could have actual thoughts instead of mere impressions). He only discovered said food while standing perfectly motionless on a rock above a pool, holding a non-food-roach in his hand, incapable of pondering just how close to death he really needed to be before the inedible became edible — but wanting to — whilst fighting with himself about putting all those wiggling legs into his mouth.

Ridiculous, he didn’t snarl… but only because he couldn’t.

Lan Wangji was spared at the last moment by the faintest vibration all around him, just beneath the surface of the pool. These were of animal origin and he dropped the roach instantly. Tilting his head, he listened as long, thin tubes extended out of crevices in the sharp rocks. His sightless eyes couldn’t see the feathery appendages extend, filter feeding from the water column... but he knew they were there.

Freshwater feather-duster worms. The shallows down into the depths of the deep pool were full of them. They were as long as a man’s forearm and as wide as his wrist, and all the pools contained them. The first time Lan Wangji reached to grab one, he missed. The whole colony had retracted instantly into the sharp rocks. That secured them beyond his reach. He smashed the rocks with his fists, hangry with frustration.

The second time was the same. But by the umpteenth time a desperate Lan Wangji finally learned to account for the deceptive water. His fingers encircled and ripped a worm out by the root. The first two-thirds of the worm were feathery legs and other inedible roughage, but the last third was a plug of bloody meat. Muscle protected entrails which encircled a small round brain marbled with fat. The whole thing was contained like a sausage in a membrane. It tasted like real food; the rich kind that pretentious people ate with special dipping sauces. He smiled in the dark without knowing what dipping sauces or a smile was. Then he re-situated himself to wait until they extended again.

He ate his fill that day, and every day after.

-o-o-o-

Wei Ying was screaming in the dark.

Poised over a quiet pool at the opposite end of the cavern, Lan Wangji startled so badly for the first scream that he lost his footing and plunged into the pool. The feather-duster worms vanished into their crevices. He exploded right back out of the water with limbs splayed like a dunked cat. 

Orienting on the sound, Lan Wangji headed that direction as fast as he could. He had a basic sense of the main cavern now. He was able to move at speed, but so could all the other Zuìchū. He could hear pounding feet from across the cavern, heralding the onslaught from everyone else within earshot of that same cry. 

Lan Wangji paused when Wei Ying’s calls ended abruptly. It sounded as if he’d been silenced. His confusion was shared with the rest of the ferals, who reoriented on another sound in the same direction; a massive fight in progress. Everyone veered and headed there instead. Lan Wangji attacked and dispersed a few of them, but chaos seemed the order of the day.

Too many Zuìchū were swarming about, stinking up the place. The stronger ones were fighting in a mass around the mouth of a walled-off cave. That was where Lan Wangji headed first, as a precautionary measure. If there were ferals fighting, then likely the Zuihou would be close.

Lan Wangji reached the walled off cave in a rushing charge. His scent preceded him. He was gratified when smaller, weaker rivals immediately backed away. Tilting his head, he followed their nervous sounds easily, while maintaining a wrathful silence. Their only warning remained his scent, but they’d come to recognize and respect any hint of his presence. Many unhinged ferals had already fallen at his hands. The survivors refused to confront him, with few exceptions. Enough time had passed and countless fights won or lost that the Zuìchū had developed a basic hierarchy. Lan Wangji and a dozen other Zuìchū were right at the top, including Fèngfēng, who remained an unmitigated pain in his ass. 

The scene at the cave mouth was worrisome. Staying back, Lan Wangji wrinkled his nose. The scents of Zuihou had him at full mast within moments. Perpetually horny anyway, he didn’t otherwise react. He didn’t charge into the fray, because he only wanted the one from his dream. He had no interest in anyone else. His difficulty was locating Wei Ying purely from the sound of his voice; otherwise he wasn’t sure what to do.

There were scents of various Zuihou, intermingled with the infuriating scents of Zuìchū. But he could hear the wails of Zuihou inside the cave, currently walled off with piled rocks. Lan Wangji listened carefully, but none of those voices matched his Wei Ying. There was no scent to follow, because he’d never had the chance to scent his Wei Ying before. Reluctant, with plenty of teeth-grinding, Lan Wangji finally made an attempt to enter the cave mouth. But there were too many Zuìchū fighting inside the entrance. He couldn’t force his way inside.

Then a particularly acrid scent caught his attention. Lan Wangji bristled hatefully when Fèngfēng’s musk burned his nostrils. Suspicious, he turned to follow the scent trail of his rival, which was leading away from the chaos... suspiciously so.

Then he heard Wei Ying scream again.

The call sounded distressed. Furious, Lan Wangji raced to intercept whoever was attacking Wei Ying. While pursuing, he encountered Fèngfēng once more, buried under an attacking bachelor group. Amusement curled in his belly for his rival’s misfortunes. 

Karma struck when, moments later, Lan Wangji lost track of Wei Ying. There was too much noise and distracting scent around him. He circled and raged in the dark until Wei Ying cried out again, piteously so, while suffering the attentions of a much lesser Zuìchū. 

Lan Wangji finally caught up with them. He was livid for the transgression, which he took personally. First he hauled the lesser Zuìchū from atop Wei Ying, cracking a bone in the process; a hurtful reminder of place. Anticipation mingled with rage made him careless; his hands flowed down the lesser male’s body with killing intent, but missed the mark. The weaker one escaped and a seething Lan Wangji barely kept himself from giving chase. He returned his attention to Wei Ying instead, or at least he hoped this was Wei Ying.

It was hard to tell and Lan Wangji shuddered in the dark. Crouching down, his head tilted, trying to make sense of the nonsensical. Waves of scent were incandescent in the dark, but seemed an amalgamation of too many scents. Most were acceptable, but a few weren’t. He grew confused, irritated, and aroused in a messy jumble. His ears filled with Wei Ying’s fearful snuffling in the darkness. Preparing to pounce, his body trembled in anticipation and wary fear, because he wasn’t certain. He’d been disappointed so many times before... and then a hesitant cry pierced the darkness.

“Lanzhan?”

Lan Wangji forgot everything as glorious realization set his spirit ablaze — This was Wei Ying! He’d found Wei Ying at last! — and overcome with delight, he threw himself over the top of the little body, the singer in the dark that had intrigued and held captive his desire for so long. His hands scrabbled over soft skin and he tried to take in all there was of Wei Ying; the feel of him, his delightful chattering voice. His fingers dragged through the silky hair puddled over the ground, gripped in turn the slim arms and grasped down the toned legs, fingers gathering up the soft bits beneath his belly in a harsh handful.

The chattering grew louder. Lan Wangji’s heart exploded when Wei Ying seemed to greet him with the same enthusiasm from the bright place, even wrapping his arms around his shoulders, fingers sliding over his back.

It was wonderful.

That embrace was everything Lan Wangji had wanted, and moreso. Instincts took over then, entirely feral. Lan Wangji gripped Wei Ying and hefted him, clumsily lining them up. Then he impaled his Wei Ying on his aching shaft with a fierce thrust.  All caution was cast to the side as Lan Wangji satisfied his basic needs with feverish intensity, claiming Wei Ying for himself right there on the ground. Scenting and biting, he licked and sucked over Wei Ying’s neck and promptly lost his mind for a time as echoes of the bright place intruded behind his eyes. The satisfaction, the joy, it filled him to overflowing, as utterly as he filled Wei Ying’s belly.

The musk was thick in his nose and mouth. Lan Wangji came hard and fast, his back curving with the force of his release after just a handful of thrusts. The satisfaction was mind-shattering. The satiation lingered as a pure and filthy satisfaction. This was his taste of what he’d been hunting all this time and drove all confusion from his mind. This was what was missing in his life; he knew that now. He’d been too long without the only good thing in his existence, and he would’ve continued to dominate and bully the little body beneath him until exhausted, but there were complications.

Wei Ying was a motionless kaleidoscope of different Zuihou scents, emanating from his skin like an assault on the senses. Releasing Wei Ying’s hips, Lan Wangji crawled up and sat on Wei Ying's warm belly, unintentionally smearing Wei Ying’s come down his undersides. That melded all the scents together, even worse as he investigated his new mate.

A thorough scenting didn’t help.

It was too difficult to ferret out which scent actually belonged to Wei Ying, but that was the lesser problem. The bigger issue was that Wei Ying had been marked and scented by several different Zuìchū, those who’d managed to get over top of him. The lesser Zuìchū was bad enough, but much worse were the patters of scent from the hated Fèngfēng, which stabbed Lan Wangji like a thorn in his nose, steadily dousing his arousal. The threat of his rivals intruded on his awareness, twining his lust with aggression.

The strangeness of Wei Ying’s scent-scape could not be overstated. Re-settling over the top of the slender body whose calls matched the voice in his mind, Lan Wangji immediately explored every inch of Wei Ying’s skin. Diligently he attacked the various scents of his rivals, gathering come and rubbing his own scent over each rival drop. Wei Ying belonged to him and no other. It was difficult to defeat Fèngfēng’s musk, which lingered in his senses and so his mind.

Intolerable!

Lan Wangji rubbed his own scent into sensitive places so fiercely that Wei Ying began to squeal in protest. Lan Wangji sat back, still feeling nettled. Finally he resorted to dousing that spot with something a little more pungent. It was only a few trickles, but his harsher scent washed away Fèngfēng’s mindless efforts. That satisfied him to the point that other Matters Of Concern could come to the forefront and force his attention.

Behind them, Lan Wangji could hear the chaos winding down in the distance. He would not be able to keep Wei Ying for himself if the hated Fèngfēng attacked him again. He had captured Wei Ying at long last, but keeping him safe was by no means certain. Now he needed to secret him away to... to... somewhere safe. That brought him up short, too.

He didn’t have a home cave!

Lan Wangji could have growled at himself for the oversight. Regardless, they needed to leave, but Wei Ying wasn’t moving. Wei Ying wasn’t struggling or fighting, which was curious, because normally Zuihou fought. Lan Wangji wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, thanks to his lack of experience in such things.

After deciding on a direction, Lan Wangji finally settled on the path of least resistance. He simply grabbed Wei Ying by his arm and prepared to pull him along, but quickly realized a problem.

Wei Ying merely cried out for pain.

There came no purposeful movement from Wei Ying, and there should be. Wei Ying should be struggling, squirming, and fussing. These were normal Zuihou reactions, along with the structured singing, which Wei Ying was doing plenty of.

Was it normal for Zuihou to be so loud?

He wasn’t sure.

Lan Wangji suffered enormous confusion. He relished the singing like a precious song, even to the point that he mouthed over the blessed lips of his new mate. But at the same time the noise was dangerous. Even worse, he could perceive distress when he heard it... and Wei Ying was distinctly distressed. Lan Wangji had heard such pained sounds before, including from a Zuihou that he’d rescued from beneath a bachelor group too late. That man had died moments later, regardless of the inquisitive fingers that tried to drag him to safety. He’d been trying to see if the man was Wei Ying and thankfully he hadn’t been. The momentary panic left an impression, however. He would never allow Wei Ying to suffer like that.

Returning, Lan Wangji sank back down with Wei Ying and forced some attention upon him. He disregarded the pain-cries and diligently tended his mate’s needs. The skin beneath his tongue felt cold and he relished the taste of Wei Ying, after the misery was licked away. After zealously licking every wound he could find — especially over the sensitive areas which he knew could be powerfully sore if squished or smashed during incursions — he grew anxious. His efforts to sooth merely increased the pained squealing. Following that was even noisier singing. This suggested Wei Ying was seriously wounded.

Not good.

Settling down again, Lan Wangji re-planted his ass on Wei Ying’s belly. His shoulders trembled for his anxiety. He hovered protectively, unsure what to do. If he were alone, he’d dig a decent hole and nestle Wei Ying there. He would have protected and tended him until he recovered, but that was impossible out in the open. There were too many rivals about.

They would hurt Wei Ying.

Lan Wangji was sure to be challenged out here and his instincts warned him that he was running out of time. He struggled and failed to make some sort of plan. It was critical to move Wei Ying from the central cavern to a safer place, perhaps back towards his favorite pool. But after some thorough consoling and tending, Wei Ying still wasn’t moving.

Tugging again, Lan Wangji bristled when Wei Ying squealed and began making dangerous amounts of noise.

Too much noise...

Lan Wangji tried desperately to quiet Wei Ying, but his every effort only made things worse. His experience in these matters were laughably inadequate. He tried persuasion in the form of covering Wei Ying’s mouth with fervent effort. When that failed, he resorted to physical means; even stuffing his fist into Wei Ying’s mouth. Alas, this backfired to a shocking degree.

Wei Ying was howling now.

Lan Wangji rocked back and forth in desperation, flexing his saliva-coated fingers haplessly, his incredulous expression unrealized in the dark. Nothing in his short life could have prepared him for the messy realities of married life. Who knew smacking your mate silly would come with such consequences?

Husbandry was hard.

Alas, Lan Wangji didn’t have the time to do what he should have done in the first place and throw Wei Ying over his shoulder and haul his pretty ass to the furthest reaches of demonic creation.

Fèngfēng came in hard and fast.

Just like Lan Wangji feared, the fight with an enthusiastic Fèngfēng spiralled out of control. Several opportunists attempted to put Lan Wangji down by ganging up on him in the middle of their standoff, which was common dastardly behavior. Their interloping seemed to offend Fèngfēng somehow, because shortly thereafter — between the two of them — an entire bachelor group lay dead at their feet.

Fèngfēng went straight back to grappling with Lan Wangji and their fight raged on for some time. Alas, by the time their standoff ended and Fèngfēng grew distracted with the feast of dead bodies, Lan Wangji had lost Wei Ying in the dark once more.

Disinclined for screaming no matter how enraged he became, Lan Wangji still managed a decent angry-snuffling-snort. This was followed by ferocious rock-abusing kicks, not unlike an enraged rabbit expressing keen dissatisfaction with the state of the universe using its back legs.

Not far away, the amused Fèngfēng snuffled merrily around his gnawing.

I hate you, Lan Wangji couldn’t say, but he wanted to.

-o-o-o-

Finally, after a number of sleeps, Lan Wangji encountered his Wei Ying again.

It was a confusing encounter that started well and ended in disaster. It had started well because he’d heard Wei Ying calling after a small drought of worrying silence. He’d headed out and once again waylaid a fellow Zuìchū heading the same direction.

That’s when everything went bad.

Lan Wangji’s rival was a rather strong one, worse than the often quirky Fèngfēng. He was short and squat and someone Lan Wangji recognized, having tangled with him before. He had a thick neck and heavy bones that didn’t break so easily. Lan Wangji found him particularly irritating to strangle. He’d been struggling to kill the bastard without taking a severe wound himself when Fèngfēng had stolen the kill from him, ripping the squat feral’s throat out. It was not the first time Fèngfēng had done such a thing and then tried to rest with him, as if they were pack mates.

They were not pack mates!

Lan Wangji had rounded on Fèngfēng in sheer outrage, completely forgetting Wei Ying as the next battle in their endless war began. They'd been wrestling off and on for hours (Fèngfēng tended to honor little breather-truces between them) when the unexpected happened. They’d clashed again and the fight was heating back up when Wei Ying piped up right next to him.

Lan Wangji’s heart had skipped a beat. He’d redoubled his efforts to drive Fèngfēng away — this was his best chance at capturing his Wei Ying — when a second set of hands landed on him.

This happened all the time.

The danger was lessened as time went on. Like with Fèngfēng, battles were becoming contests of strength instead of vicious death matches, but as a rule Lan Wangji wasn’t playing. His enemies left with broken fingers, wrists, and other debilitating injuries as a matter of course, assuming they even survived their bouts with him. His policy of ‘make them hurt’ paid dividends, because fewer Zuìchū would be willing to fight him anymore. Only the strongest grappled with him now.

So when the second set of hands landed, Lan Wangji hadn’t hesitated. He presumed the interloper was a Zuìchū and perceived in the same moment that the smaller body wasn’t anywhere near his weight class. There wasn’t much of a scent, either. Regardless, the interloper didn’t smell like a Zuihou. That meant Lan Wangji had no reason to be nice about the matter. Distracted with Fèngfēng, he didn’t waste time killing the weaker rival, but he didn’t spare him, either. After perceiving the opening when Fèngfēng seemed to misstep — he felt a flash of annoyance that this little Zuìchū was stealing an opportune moment to defeat his real enemy once and for all — he abruptly snapped the little thing’s wrist with one squeeze of his hand.

Lan Wangji hadn’t been prepared for the piteous scream.

Now Wei Ying was wailing somewhere down by his feet and Lan Wangji didn’t have time to consider the matter in his limited way. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but blamed Fèngfēng entirely. Lan Wangji perceived that his would-be mate was injured, presumably by his hated rival, and now Wei Ying needed him. But Fèngfēng had already recovered his feet and attacked again, seemingly redoubling his efforts with a Zuihou between them. They both fought with single-minded fury, spurred on by piteous cries. It was as if they both blamed each other; both wanted to gather and comfort the little body at their feet. The resulting fight was legendary and took up way too much time.

After breaking free of his rival, Lan Wangji had circled back and searched the area, certain he would be carrying back a wounded and whimpering mate. Fèngfēng did the exact same thing, but took pains to avoid Lan Wangji in the dark as he searched as well. That neither of them found anything was deeply frustrating.

Lan Wangji resisted the urge to confront his rival and focused on searching instead. His whole body trembled for nervousness. What if he found Wei Ying in the dark, and he was already dead?

Lan Wangji couldn’t think such thoughts, but something deep inside him, bright and spinning, perceived the risk and found it horrifying. The darkness kept its secrets and increasingly desperate, Lan Wangji kept whirling towards Fèngfēng every time he heard any sound, but it seemed his rival was also stymied in the dark. There were no piteous cries to follow anymore. No scent trail whatsoever. Even so, he searched the area carefully several times… but once again he’d lost Wei Ying.

In the bright dreams, Lan Wangji sometimes made noises with his… mate. He would have called out, but that wasn’t something he did in the waking world. He didn’t even know what noises to make to reach out. It was so confusing.

So frustrating…

…and then the calling stopped entirely.

-o-o-o-

Perhaps the problem was with Lan Wangji.

Dissatisfied with life in general, Lan Wangji unconsciously decided the reason he couldn’t capture his mate was that he’d yet to find a territory of his own. This was less a matter of ability and more one of taste, because nothing satisfied him. The side-sections to the main cavern were generally too small, too big, or too open. None of them felt defensible. Another reason he’d spurned a permanent place was because he spent most of his time exploring, committing sections of his world to memory.

Clearly Lan Wangji needed his own space; a territory that didn’t bear any trace of his rivals so that they couldn’t endanger Wei Ying. Some place he could easily defend, because if other Zuìchū were there then the space was not his. They had injured his would-be mate, after all. He would never forgive that.

In-between hunting for food and Wei Ying, Lan Wangji began scouting for somewhere to claim for himself. He couldn’t perceive it, but hunting the worms for food had provided him with another tangible benefit; he was memorizing the landmarks and boundaries of his dark world.

Lan Wangji had already learned where all the streams came out from and where the pools gathered into deep cisterns. He committed to memory the sound of each water feature and used that knowledge to orient himself in the dark. He also memorized which territories went with which pools. While doing that, he finally found his own preferred location.

Lan Wangji had been perched on a smooth rock on the bank of his favorite pool, adjacent to the main cavern. He was listening for emerging feather worms for dinner when he realized the pool was draining slowly, creating a stream through a gap in the rocks.

Following that, Lan Wangji discovered a ten-foot-high crack in the wall, which was just wide enough for a man to slip through. Past that was a sanctuary that was big enough for him to wander through, but small enough to patrol in a matter of minutes. Even better, the stream drained into a pool at the bottom, which was full of feather-duster worms. Best of all, there was a hollow in the right-hand wall with a hole just small enough for a man to crawl into, that widened into a nook, adorned with a sandy bottom that was big enough for a man to roll around, play around, and sleep within, or all of these things comfortably at once. Privacy, dinner, and a safe bed all situated past an easily-defensible crack in the wall. 

It was absolutely perfect!

Delighted, Lan Wangji made his first pleasant sound ever; a pleased huffing. Then he set to memorizing every inch of his new territory. That ended with a careful marking ritual, where he rubbed his scent outside the crack and especially a chosen number of rocks further away, where his territory began. There he left odious puddles at the base of the rocks, so that any other Zuìchū would understand that this place now belonged to him. He would patrol and protect that area, keeping near the crack to keep others out.

Lan Wangji spent the next few sleeps aggressively overreacting to enforce his territory. He began pissing on every damned thing at the boundary of his new place, defending against any curious interlopers. He went to great effort chasing away any curious Zuìchū he detected.

Fèngfēng was one of these troublesome Zuìchū, though their clashes were less often as it seemed his rival had captured a Zuihou during this period of time. Fèngfēng seemed focused on finding and dragging away food, more than what he needed for himself. Suspicious, Lan Wangji had investigated his rival’s odd behavior. He'd raided the hollow that Fèngfēng had half-heartedly claimed for himself (intending to steal Wei Ying away if his rival had managed the unthinkable) but the Zuihou in Fèngfēng’s cave hadn’t been Wei Ying, and Lan Wangji had no interest in Ling Ping. Leaving without disturbing anything, he encountered Fèngfēng on the way out. It was a distinctly odd encounter, because Fèngfēng hadn’t tried to drive him away. Fèngfēng had even seemed willing to share his various treasures; the disembodied leg he was returning with and the warm body he was currently feeding such things to and sleeping with. But Lan Wangji did not appreciate any of that and merely slipped away, this time without a struggle.

Lan Wangji couldn’t ponder such things, but certainly appreciated Fèngfēng’s absence from his life for blessed handfuls of sleeps. Regardless, there seemed a surprising number of visitors now that they knew where the ghost in the darkness was permanently lodged. He routinely heard pebbles disturbed and of course he hurried over to drive them away.

Most of these were weaker Zuìchū.

Lan Wangji could tell, because they would make small noises and then flee without him ever catching them in the act, not even leaving a single trace of their scent. He probably should have questioned that, but his facilities were limited by the array and so his deductive reasoning was lacking. Some intruders were brave enough to tangle with him, but interestingly enough they seemed to sense early that he had no Zuihou. They swiftly disengaged upon realizing, but continued to periodically check just in case, which actually boded ill for when he might eventually claim his would-be mate. He could expect to defend Wei Ying whenever he eventually managed to capture him.

Which remained Lan Wangji’s biggest problem. After claiming a place of his own, all that was left was to bring his mate home. He couldn’t understand why the matter was still so difficult to resolve. There were no other scents than his own, no other Zuìchū within his borders, nothing to upset Wei Ying into keeping his distance. He decided the matter was merely that his mate didn’t know where to find him. He listened carefully, even ranged out a few times beyond his own borders. For the longest time there wasn’t a single peep.

So the next time Lan Wangji heard “lanzhan, oh lanzhan, stay safe will you?” from outside of his territory, he dove through the crack and bolted towards the boundary. He leapt upon a rock. He cocked his head and listened, trying to find the voice in the darkness. There was nothing, so Lan Wangji headed out in the same direction the voice had come from. Alas, because he never flung himself willy-nilly about in the darkness and instead used a steady-and-soundless approach, he never seemed to reach Wei Ying in time.

This time was no exception. He reached the furthest area that Wei Ying could be, soundlessly as was his wont, but a bachelor group of Zuìchū had tracked out at the same time as him. They were already fighting amidst themselves, but he couldn’t tell why. The musical voice was gone and there was never any scent trail to follow. He assumed the fighting had likely frightened the voice away.

It was all so useless.

Lan Wangji stayed back, considering. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. The longer he smelled the other Zuìchū the angrier he became. He wanted to find the voice, not fight meaningless battles. He scented the area carefully, but couldn’t detect anything.

Meanwhile, some things were very clear. The scents of the fighting Zuìchū must have scared off his mate and that perpetually offended Lan Wangji. He barely refrained from killing them all in a temper tantrum, but his restraint held. The stench in his nose wasn’t so overwhelming. Also, as time passed he was beginning to master his feelings. Just because he hated something didn’t mean he had to risk injury to destroy it. The golden core in his chest had more influence as time passed, teaching him that he could choose when to fight and when to leave.

Finally Lan Wangji couldn’t bear their stench and noise any longer. Abandoning his rock, he left the bachelor group to their meaningless wrestling matches and vanished back into the darkness, heading towards his sanctuary home... the outer rocks and inner peace.

But the music continued to haunt him.

Lately, the playful voice was quieter. Lan Wangji heard it piping out from the darkness in random places within his outer territory, but never the normal song. He only ever heard pained yelping or soft mumbling, quickly hushed. He would cock his head and listen, recognizing the voice after a moment of consideration, then head towards Wei Ying, ever faithful, but always by the time he reached the spot the voice was gone.

There were strange traces, though.

Within his territory, rocks moved about. Things that shouldn't move sometimes did. This one time the area around the crack leading to his sanctuary was entirely disrupted, dusty and tossed, and that sent him into nervous spasms of anxiety. He had cast about with fevor and several times the air around him had moved in questionable ways. This happened several times, suspiciously so.

The ghost in the darkness was being haunted.

It didn’t help that the colorful visions continued to dominate Lan Wangji's mind when he slept. They were coming more often and had taken a more needful turn. Maybe it was his own needs driving them, because he dreamed of filling the pretty boy beneath him. Sometimes they were entwined beneath the blue-green colors, sometimes in a brown enclosure, sometimes beneath a brilliant sky upon the banks of cold water. Always, he would wake up covered in his own mess.

It felt like being teased — which felt strangely familiar.

More than anything, Lan Wangji wanted the playful little body from his dreams. He wanted the colors, the laughter, the playful chattering. His mate was currently missing and he had no recourse.

Where was Wei Ying?

-o-o-o-

Wei Ying wasn’t missing.

Wei Ying was living with Lan Wangji in his sanctuary, just a stone’s throw from his sleeping nook.

Lan Wangji had known that Wei Ying sometimes wandered about outside and drank from his pool. He’d found some traces of a scentless wanderer, difficult to quantify or hunt properly. He’d spent the majority of his time outside his sanctuary, trying to hunt down the untraceable, until he heard the tell-tale sound of tinkling urine, complete with satisfied sigh and the sound of balls being scratched, absent-mindedly so, and then he'd discovered a steaming hot puddle right in the middle of his sanctuary! 

?!?!?!?!?!?!?

This time Lan Wangji did vocalize.

It exploded out of his throat as a harsh, disbelieving huff of sheer disbelief. It was hard to overstate just how much disbelief he was suffering in that moment… just… right under his nose the entire time! And then, as if to tease him — or merely to confirm for him the truth he already suspected — Wei Ying made a soft noise right behind him.

Lan Wangji reacted instantly to the sound of Wei Ying's voice. Throwing himself towards the singer, he encountered the whispered kiss of strands of Wei Ying’s hair as they passed each other in the dark. He was engulfed in the air warmed by Wei Ying’s body, but that was as much as he could claim.

Casting about, Lan Wangji found himself alone once more. It was agonizing. He tried to cry out his frustration, using words from his deepest place, his golden core. He tried to call for Wei Ying, but as always the suppression array destroyed his attempts, muddying his efforts at thought and mannish behavior. His call emerged a mess and he collapsed into the dirt, shaking. Unbidden, unnoticed, a tear of frustration trailed down his cheek.

The suppression array cruelly destroyed his higher perceptions and quashed his attempts to communicate, but it couldn’t erase his love of Wei Ying. His wants and desires remained. And so he returned to the only place that held any trace of his missing mate.

The puddle against the far wall was steamy, pungent, and seemingly inescapable. He kept returning to that place, pressing his nose against the stone. Even after the mess had dried, he kept returning. Wei Ying's musk remained potent, the only trace of him to be found in the darkness. His arousal peaked, reliably so. 

So long as his nose remained pressed to the stone, the vision within his mind came closer to the surface and the aching in Lan Wangji’s loins could be released; satiated. The last great dissatisfaction of his life could be briefly eased, so that peace was possible. This was the missing piece of his life — he just needed to capture his Wei Ying and true happiness would be his once more, like in the vision.

More importantly, the scent was pure, undiluted or sullied by any other scent. Lan Wangji now knew his Wei Ying by sound and scent. 

Then the hunt truly began.

-o-o-o-

The little shit was playing with him.

There was no other explanation for the little tinks of sound that Lan Wangji felt compelled to investigate that never amounted to anything.

Tink!

It took a bit of effort, but Lan Wangji finally managed to figure out where, roughly, the thrown pebbles were coming from. Some of them whistled in the air, ever so faintly, and he was learning to trace back the sound. Several times while lunging out, his skin would feel the kiss of divergent air currents and his fingers would feel the silky-soft strands of Wei Ying’s hair in another near-miss.

To be so close and yet so far from Wei Ying was utterly maddening.

Even so, Lan Wangji was making progress. The signs of Wei Ying’s presence became numerous, especially now that he knew his mate was somewhere in his sanctuary and so could correctly attribute any unexpected sound or disturbance to Wei Ying. These came more frequently now. It was as if his fearful Wei Ying was growing careless, dangerously so.

Or perhaps Wei Ying was injured?

Whatever the reason for Wei Ying’s perpetual fear, Lan Wangji was resolute in his intentions. He had scavenged plenty of cast-away robes and padded his nook resplendently. Lovingly he had hollowed out a place for Wei Ying, where he would be safe and cared for, just as soon as he could capture him.

Then, a handful of sleeps later, after Lan Wangji returned from a particularly fierce confrontation with Fèngfēng at his border — his hated rival was confronting him diligently again suggesting Fèngfēng had lost Ling Ping somehow — he caught wind of a pure scent that left him wild with excitement. It was a scent he was familiar with because he’d smelled it before; exactly the same as the splatters against the wall. Puddles of water diluted the scent, but it was still discernible. He followed the scent like a blood hound, his heart leaping in his chest. The scent trail ended in disturbed ground and slowly settling clouds of dirt.

Lan Wangji panicked then. Casting about, he desperately sought to pick up the trail again. Then scrabbling noises had him whirling. Bolting upright, he heard Wei Ying made an unhappy sound nearby, followed by a sharp slapping sound that echoed off the rocks. That informed Lan Wangji exactly where Wei Ying was in the dark. Lan Wangji pounced and smashed into Wei Ying, bringing all his excitement to bear. He knocked the smaller body to the ground and held him there, panting noisily.

Wei Ying began to wail, pitifully so.

Enduring the normal struggles, Lan Wangji gave in to base instinct. He tried to get as much of Wei Ying’s scent into his mouth, suffusing his senses. His teeth scrapped over soft skin, eliciting a tensing gasp from Wei Ying. His fingers clenched in a spasm of possessive aggression. He didn’t even feel the sting of fearful slaps over his body as Wei Ying tried to wriggle away.

Squirming and squealing was completely normal behavior for captive Zuihou. Lan Wangji took no offense, though he fiercely dominated the smaller body. He was the husband between them. Wei Ying belonged to him. He felt the need to explain that, somehow. He was desperate to get his hands and mouth on Wei Ying, his instincts stirred into a torrent of desires, chief among them to get Wei Ying into his sleeping nook and keep him there.

Again Lan Wangji made a mistake, though it wasn’t entirely his fault. His breathing came in gasps. His body was awash with a mixture of pheromones, adrenaline, and sheer possessive aggression. He did know better than to waste time claiming Wei Ying again. It was too important to sequester Wei Ying into the safety of his sleeping nook. But he was too excited for cautionary measures, as most of his blood was rushing to the place between his legs. He kept changing his position. His grip danced over Wei Ying for excitement, exalting for the feel of Wei Ying beneath his hands.

Wei Ying was so wiggly!

Standing up, Lan Wangji tried to pull Wei Ying after him. Lan Wangji’s grip was harsh and solid, but Wei Ying did something, turned himself a certain way, and his arm slipped from Lan Wangji’s grasp.

So clever.

As fast as that, Wei Ying was racing away again. Lan Wangji gave furious chase, even leaping into the deep cavern pool in pursuit, but lost him there. Once again, Wei Ying had vanished without a trace into the darkness.

Lan Wangji dragged himself from the pool and onto a flat rock, soaking wet. He plopped down on the same rock he used to hunt the feather-duster worms, beside himself for his loss. Then he beat the rock with his fists until they were bloody. Never before had he felt so inadequate. It felt like he’d lost an important fight. He wanted to scream for frustration, but took out his ire on the rock instead.

-o-o-o-

There was a distant glow, coming from the middle of the cavern.

Lan Zhan was captivated by the brightness. He never used his eyes, beyond that first glimpse at the dawning of his new life. The sight of his territory became a connection of touch and sound to the images within his mind. As perceived by his before-useless eyes, the light-kissed grays of the world were a marvel and filled him with wonder.

Lan Wangji headed out from the relative safety of his territory and ranged towards the raging bonfire, which was glowing brighter the closer he came. There were ferals teeming in the distance, between him and the light.

Wary, Lan Wangji stopped short of joining them. Circling around a heavy rock formation, he encountered the last person he ever wanted to see on the opposite side. Fèngfēng was also investigating the brightness. Lan Wangji’s nose wrinkled and he bared his teeth, though still hidden behind his lips. Fèngfēng had a similar reaction, his teeth fully bared, until he recognized Lan Wangji’s scent.

The two rivals-as-unwilling-pack mates regarded each other judiciously in the flicking golden light. They both knew their worth and so warily circled each other. The dancing shadows made them particularly nervous. Several times Fèngfēng struck at a shadow, looking confused when nothing connected with his fist. Even Lan Wangji felt less assured of himself, especially in the shadow of the larger feral, who was wider and heavier than he was.

Fèngfēng was a sight.

And it seemed Fèngfēng was less cautious then Lan Wangji. Because after deciding shadows weren’t actually a thing, he nearly touched Lan Wangji’s face, with the rest of him angled away in case Lan Wangji tried to start something.

Lan Wangji did nothing of the sort.

Sick of wasting his time with this huge, troublesome feral, Lan Wangji turned away. He leapt up the side of the rock formation instead, slipping away from Fèngfēng’s curious, quasi-friendly fingers and unreadable expression. Avoiding his rival was easy enough with the light as a distraction and Lan Wangji soon left him behind.

Climbing a boulder to see better, Lan Wangji watched as figures raced around the distant bonfire. Then his eyes caught on a man beneath his boulder, motionlessly so, watching the ruckus in the distance. His eyes dilated as the person half-leaned over a smaller stone, the shape of his body more apparent as he stretched towards the light. The realization struck Lan Wangji like a physical blow.

It was Wei Ying from his vision!

Lan Wangji stalked forward, until he was a mere few paces away, balancing on a closer boulder. Crouching there, he devoured the sight of Wei Ying in the golden light; the lovely gleam of light over his toned arms and back, his long hair tied back in a spiraling tail, his pert little bottom irritatingly hidden beneath a tease of dirty cloth.

Wei Ying was beautiful.

Finally Wei Ying noticed Lan Wangji’s worshipful attention, half-turning and then startling. Silver eyes looked up and widened and a pink tongue traced his lips. Wei Ying’s expression was full of things Lan Wangji couldn’t fathom, but Lan Wangji didn’t mind so much, because his eyes were treated to the rest of Wei Ying, which was just as lovely as the back of him. His heart began to ache in confusing ways.

“Lan Zhan?” called Wei Ying, just like in the vision Lan Wangji couldn’t fully remember while awake.

Instinctively, Lan Wangji answered, but the purity of the sound was ruined by the heavy weight of the suppression array. That, and his own lack of understanding of what the sound meant, beyond that he loved the feel of it rolling on his tongue.

It didn’t matter.

Lan Wangji pounced, grasping hold of Wei Ying. His intentions were to take him away, back to his sanctuary and nestle him into the little furrow, but this time when Wei Ying protested, the expression and noise together caught Lan Wangji’s attention and forced a pause.

Wei Ying didn’t like when Lan Wangji grabbed him?

Well, Lan Wangji didn’t care so much about that. Wei Ying was coming with him this time, but as Lan Wangji tried to force his way, Wei Ying cried again. His hysterics were captivating, almost as much as when he covered Lan Wangji’s fingers with his own, and that brought Lan Wangji up short. It was a revelation. Was that why Wei Ying was crying so much? Was Lan Wangji damaging him, unintentionally so?

Releasing his grip, Lan Wangji was startled into rearing back when Wei Ying squealed happily, chattering noisily and bouncing about.

Wei Ying’s reaction was so... happy?

His theatrics were so very stimulating. Lan Wangji became entranced by all the fluttering; the playful chatter, the smiling face, and the expressive posturing. Nothing else held his interest like Wei Ying and he never wanted to look away.

And then Wei Ying leapt up and pressed their mouths together. Lan Wangji reared back, purely on instinct. He wasn't used to such interactions, but Wei Ying continued to chatter and he relaxed. Then Wei Ying repeated his actions, pressing his lips against him. Soft little touches, he recognized this as a form of tending; of pair bonding. He had no word associated with the soft mouthing over his lips — but he really liked it.

Even moreso when Wei Ying displayed himself, baring his lower body. It seemed an invitation for more pair bonding and Lan Wangji reached out and took a possessive handful, but the crying returned immediately. He fell back as hands rejected him. He watched as Wei Ying bounced about, squealing in expressive pain.

Lan Wangji felt a new feeling, one he’d never felt before. He felt regretful. He wasn’t trying to hurt his mate! Reaching out, he took up another handful and soothed what he’d hurt. His fingers stroked meaningfully, and then Wei Ying’s nervous chatter soothed into breathless little noises. Wei Ying leaned into his touch, seeming happy again. The scent of precome wafted upward to Lan Wangji’s nose, and then Wei Ying touched Lan Wangji in the same place.

The electric tingle of that touch had Lan Wangji doubling over. Most of his blood volume raced to meet those pleasing fingers. His breath stuttered as the head of his cock flushed darkly, wet at the tip. Then he met Wei Ying halfway, hefting him up without the slightest trouble. He rubbed their bodies together, relishing the growing heat in his belly, a flush darkening his ears. His instincts screamed for him to take, to claim. He indulged himself, nuzzling first, then biting deep into the glands on Wei Ying’s neck; a mating bite. Simultaneously he was in the midst of positioning Wei Ying to take him, when the squealing started up again.

Wei Ying wiggled free. His noises were really upset now. Lan Wangji retreated a step, confused as Wei Ying gathered up the blood on his neck, making pained noises. He blew a breath past his lips when Wei Ying thrust his bloodied fingers under Lan Wangji’s nose, his cries echoing into the dark.

Lan Wangji peered down at the blood on Wei Ying’s fingers, but it was the scent that startled him. He knew the scent of blood. He’d licked enough wounds to know that bleeding meant hurting, and now Wei Ying was bleeding. Realization dawned. He was being hurtful towards his Wei Ying! Perhaps that was why he was so afraid? That understanding would never have happened without the light revealing so much about Wei Ying then Lan Wangji could’ve ever known. As they stood there, nearly overcome with the sight of each other, the light began to fade, threatening to cast them back into darkness.

Regardless of Lan Wangji’s confusions and revelations and desires, he recognized it was time to leave. He could hear his rivals approaching. But when he reached for his Wei Ying once more, his heart lurched when Wei Ying fled from him. The lurch tightened into an ache when his Wei Ying escaped him again, vanishing into the dark once more.

Unwilling to part, Lan Wangji gave chase, but failed to capture him. As always, other Zuìchū interfered. It was their fault that Wei Ying disappeared into the dark, leaving him bereft of all happiness.

And yet, after returning to his sanctuary, a miserable Lan Wangji found drops of fresh blood. He knew it was from Wei Ying, from his mating bite. Wei Ying had returned to his sanctuary, had chosen to return here in the dark with Lan Wangji, and had placed himself under Lan Wangji’s protection. Wei Ying was here. There were no words in Lan Wangji’s mind, no way to communicate the notions of amends or promises, but the lesson stayed with him. He had lost Wei Ying this time, but it was just a matter of time.

The frequent near-misses were frustrating, but then a stroke of luck changed everything.

Chapter Text

Lan Wangji was patrolling when a soft sound caught his attention.

Breathing?

Suddenly wary, Lan Wangji crept towards the sound. There, in the lee of a great boulder, he heard a sound that made his heart leap in his chest. Following the soft, gusty sighs, he discovered a dusty, scentless body lying face down.

Lan Wangji suspected who this was, but needed confirmation. There was one other Zuihou that wandered scentless in the dark. He had no interest in that one, but pounced regardless. His grasp was suitably fierce, but he didn’t inflict damage. His normal killing intent was subdued; focused on capturing the scentless man in the darkness. His instincts still ruled him. He would have his way, but his restraint would have surprised anyone who had encountered him. For his own safety he would make sure, but if this was Wei Ying... then this time things would be different.

Lan Wangji didn’t think the words, but there was a difference in his eyes, unseen in the dark. More of his mind was stirring, thanks to his golden core. He resembled a little more of himself then when he’d first awakened in the darkness. The man was taking shape once more, however tenuous. He remained a creature of shadow, incapable of remembering his past beyond impressions from visions. But unlike many other ferals, he could learn from the now.

The little body beneath Lan Wangji didn’t struggle at first. He seemed to accept the bullying amid a few frightened-sounding gasps. That sound could come from either Zuihou and wasn’t confirmation. It took some effort, but Lan Wangji finally managed to scent the little body, helped along when a full body wiggle shook his balance and he face-planted exactly where his nose needed to be to satisfy his deeper instincts.

This was Wei Ying!

At the same time, Wei Ying began to sing his nonsensical, sensual songs, and even peed himself seemingly for fear, further confirming and relieving the stress response that flooded Lan Wangji’s body for the uncertainty... replacing aggression with excitement of a different sort. That left him fully aroused, as if his length was determined to be part of the chase. Mostly, however, it just got in the way.

Wei Ying was so very wiggly!

As before, relocating Wei Ying had been a real struggle. But after some ferocious effort, Lan Wangji managed to keep pace with him, even digging him out of a makeshift shelter when he managed to slip away. After dominating the dusty little body, he was surprised by one last burst of pure terror that had a flailing Wei Ying climbing over the top of him, only to collapse down his back.

This sort of thing had happened to Lan Wangji before, usually after fighting a captive Zuihou into submission. He hadn’t been as violent this time, because Wei Ying hadn’t been violent with him. Finally, he wrested his new mate from the freedom of the outside, forcing Wei Ying's slender body down into the confines of the furrow Lan Wangji had made for him. The flat rock settled over the entrance...

...ensuring Lan Wangji would never be bereft again.

Wei Ying was still unconscious. Completely loose, his limbs remained relaxed and floppy as Lan Wangji explored him in the dark with hands that trembled for excitement. Wei Ying's mouth hung open, emitting a few unconscious, fearful whines. Having experienced this before, Lan Wangji wasn’t concerned. Especially when Wei Ying’s hitching breaths echoed off the low ceiling and close walls, loud in the perfect quiet. The soft noises and lack of blood assured him that his mate wasn’t hurt. Even more enticing, a hint of Wei Ying’s true scent wafted throughout the enclosed space.

Lan Wangji’s nostrils flared as a fire kindled in his belly. Soon he was rocking back and forth over his Wei Ying, too excited to stay silent, but incapable of making noise. He'd suffered frustration for so long that he barely knew what to do with himself, now that he had everything he wanted. The quixotic feeling made him want to sing, but the only sounds were rustling as he succumbed to his desires.

Lan Wangji had no concept of holding back, not when it came to this sort of thing. Ears and neck hot with excitement, he settled into the furrow with Wei Ying, gathering up his body. His skin heated until burning. Encouraged that he could only smell his mate and nothing else, his lower body began throbbing insistently, his cock hard and straining. He grew aggressive for a time, nipping and nibbling, landing several bites over Wei Ying’s neck. Nipping down his back, he shuddered for the strong musk gathering in his senses.

Wei Ying’s soft whines for each nip only encouraged him. Feverish with excitement, Lan Wangji arranged Wei Ying on his belly. Large hands held the smaller body up by his hips to control him. Then he took Wei Ying for the first time in too long. After a few clumsy attempts, he sank deep inside and was rewarded with sensation so glorious it set his bestial mind ablaze. His instinctual rhythm and harsh thrusts filled the nook with wet noises, soon joined by the rustling of fingers as Wei Ying unconsciously clenched down on the cloth cradling his front.

Wei Ying's loose body moved beneath the lust of the feral over the top of him. Soft, gusty sighs joined the chorus of obscene noise. His cock hardened for the friction against the soft bedding as his hips rocked beneath his husband's attentions. His mouth opened and closed reflexively, as somewhere in his mindscape, he was enjoying himself, though he didn’t wake. He could sleep through a hurricane, even one comprised of a hot mouth, fierce hands, and a heavy cock, and that was exactly what he did.

Lan Wangji lost his mind in the dark, coming as close to being in the bright place again as he ever could. He didn’t regain it for some time. It was only when he’d exhausted and emptied himself that his mad lust eased off. Collapsing and smooshing Wei Ying back into the furrow, Lan Wangji lay there for a few moments. His breathing slowed as he was tapped out, gloriously so. Unlike when alone, with Wei Ying beneath him, his mood soared and lingered.

With his most basic of needs satiated, Lan Wangji’s instincts turned to other, more practical things. The first thing he did after reclaiming Wei Ying was to clean every inch of him. Starting with his face, he worked his way down Wei Ying’s body until satisfied, which took some time. After the first pass, he returned to the most interesting places of Wei Ying’s bodyscape. Those areas he licked, nipped, and sucked with fervor, enjoying the taste. He was encouraged by the sleepy “uhms?” and little squeaks that escaped Wei Ying’s mouth.

When Lan Wangji finished his ministrations, the scent of Wei Ying was fully liberated, at long last. He was every bit as smelly as Lan Wangji, once cleaned and tended. Their scents began to mingle in the darkness. There wasn’t a speck of anything that wasn’t his left on Wei Ying’s body and Lan Wangji rested atop Wei Ying for awhile, their bodies flush in the furrow. It gratified him immensely to have Wei Ying tucked so close.

Breathing deep, Lan Wangji finished the night with one more coupling, a slow and steady grinding, ending with him heaving, his empty sac straining out a last few drops. After the last straining pulse, he sank down over the top of Wei Ying, pressing him into the cloth and warming him. He left his cock inside, easily done for his large size, even when softened.

Satisfied with his own efforts, Lan Wangji finally settled down to rest. An uncharacteristic expression of pure contentment touched the corners of his mouth. Then, after burying his face in Wei Ying’s neck, Lan Wangji finally succumbed to sleep.

-o-o-o-

Lan Wangji woke sometime later to the sounds of hyperventilation.

Wei Ying’s panicky breathing was loud in the dark, setting the tone for the rest of the first waking period. The peaking anxiety from the little body beneath him forced a muzzy Lan Wangji from the bright place back into the darkness. This time waking was not nearly so upsetting. He wasn't alone anymore.

Wei Ying’s cautious wiggling and worried noises fully roused Lan Wangji, who pulled out of his Wei Ying with a wet sound. Wei Ying didn’t seem to notice. Their scents were combined within the confines of the nook, heavy in the still air.

Relaxing, Lan Wangji stretched with languid gratification. Then he settled on his side, one hand resting on Wei Ying’s hip to maintain contact. Otherwise, he allowed his mate to curl over, tolerating Wei Ying’s free movement thanks to the heavy flat stone. But when Wei Ying tried to leave the furrow and crawl away, a flare of aggression had Lan Wangji pulling him back. You belong here, he couldn’t say. His insisting hands made his point for him, even as his cock stirred for the feel of Wei Ying’s lithe body.

None of this calmed Wei Ying’s reedy breaths. Regardless, Lan Wangji wanted more and because he knew no better, he took what he wanted. He pressed both hands on Wei Ying’s cooling skin and reclaimed his narrow hips, pulling him close. He took some time to explore Wei Ying then, much as he had before — this time with the added benefit of Wei Ying being awake. The squirming and nervous noises captivated him. Provoking a wrestling match, he pitted his strength against that of his frightened mate, only to discover that his strength was vastly superior. He had his way, easily so, until all of his lingering wariness faded away.

Aroused again, Lan Wangji tried to pull Wei Ying back onto his rock-hard cock, but had to uncurl him first. Wei Ying’s hands kept grasping over his larger ones, his noises high-pitched and fast-paced. His legs kept folding to protect his sensitive areas, as if he was fearful of mistreatment. Then, as if confirming the danger, Lan Wangji clenched too hard on Wei Ying's hips, earning a reminder in the form of squealing protests. He unclenched his fingers, but didn’t slow his attempts to take his mate.

Wei Ying’s reaction to Lan Wangji’s loosening fingers was immediate. His song was still high and fast, but grew intermixed with softer noises. That encouraged Lan Wangji to gather Wei Ying again, arranging his body as he desired. This time Wei Ying allowed his aggressions without any recognizable protests.

Wei Ying whispered a soft, “You gonna go crazy and fuck me to death in here, Lan Zhan?” as Lan Wangji rubbed his cock between the cleft of Wei Ying’s ass, catching his cock-head at the little hole there.

Lan Wangji never understood his mate's complicated music, but loved the sounds regardless. They were the only sounds he loved in this hellish life. He couldn’t respond in kind, though some part of him wanted to. His only answer was a hot nuzzle over the cool skin closest to his mouth.

This moment was the beginning of the rest of their lives, as far as Lan Wangji could understand. Happiness flooded him, especially when he drew Wei Ying back onto his cock, filling him again with a wet squelching sound. Wei Ying curved his back, half-curling around while squirming for the penetration. His tight hole clenched around the intruder a few times.

Then Lan Wangji really began to thrust. His powerful fingers kept pace with his excitement, crushingly so. Thoughtlessly he kneaded the cool flesh, so slight that the bones weren't far from his fingers. It didn’t help that he actually enjoyed Wei Ying’s feeble struggling; they only heightened his pleasure. The squirming roused his predatory instincts. It added an element to the experience that he didn’t understand, but felt keenly deep in his belly. The tension coiled ever tighter, because his Wei Ying was really struggling now. He was lithe and graceful and his body flowed like water. He could do many things to make holding him difficult and Lan Wangji relished every moment.

The slapping, less so.

The noisy slaps, heel-whacks, and Wei Ying’s struggling response mingled with the high-pitched unhappy noises finally pierced the sex-haze that clouded Lan Wangji’s brain.

“I didn’t mean for you to really kill me, er-gege!” screamed Wei Ying.

Startled, Lan Wangji reared back, his grip tightening even harder. But now Wei Ying was really laying into him. Snuffling, Lan Wangji closed his eyes as his mate corrected his brutish behavior in the only way he could. Finally, Lan Wangji remembered. He unclenched his hands again and that instantly ended the punishing slaps. The sudden silence startled him, adding to his confusion.

In his hesitation, Lan Wangji accidently slipped out, his cock dripping. Frustrated, he blew out a harsh breath. He reached out and stroked over Wei Ying’s breast in wordless distress. Moreso when Wei Ying leaned away from his touch, almost instinctively so.

The fear was heavy in the dark.

The silence lingered.

Then Lan Wangji relaxed once more when the softer noises returned, followed by a full-body jolt when a warm hand encircled his aching cock. Slender fingers slid up and down his erection. The fingers were slow, practiced. His Wei Ying’s hands felt so good. They were building speed in a way that made him see stars in the dark. Sucking in a breath for the touch, Lan Wangji reached out, fingers grasping and gathering Wei Ying again. This time he was more careful about managing his strength.

Wei Ying’s reaction to his restraint was also immediate. Trembling kisses landed on his face and mouth. The feel of Wei Ying’s fearful lips on his mouth had his cock hardening that much more. Then Wei Ying, of his own desire, laid himself back into the furrow. He pulled Lan Wangji over the top of him with happy noises, welcoming his attentions.

This time a reverent Lan Wangji managed not to cause damage, but only because he transferred his grip from Wei Ying’s hips to the fabric beneath his body. The unsuspecting cloth was slick with their combined wet and he pulverised it mercilessly as he came over and over into the little body beneath him, fucking warmth back into Wei Ying’s bones, fucking him utterly senseless.

-o-o-o-

Wei Ying discovered the flat rock sometime later.

The resulting howling was strangely satisfying. Lan Wangji settled back, amused. His chin tilted up in smug satisfaction as Wei Ying tried to move the rock and failed. Then he rounded back and Lan Wangji allowed himself to be shaken back and forth while Wei Ying’s hysterics settled down into noisy complaints. He wanted to leave the nook; that much was obvious.

Over my dead body, Lan Wangji couldn’t say.

It was the damned truth, though.

-o-o-o-

Food remained a nebulous thing.

The first few sleeps were dominated by Lan Wangji’s interests. Mainly this involved dragging Wei Ying back from wherever corner he ended up while chasing down various roaches that had co-habituated with Lan Wangji peaceably up until that point.

Wei Ying was the death of peace.

His mate was a constant source of movement and noise, utterly captivating, and Lan Wangji was incapable of understanding exactly why the same sort of scent, movement, and noise disruption that had sent him hurtling towards the outer reaches of their underground prison now drew him in. His attention was rivited upon Wei Ying; as much a captive of his infatuation as Wei Ying was a captive beneath the flat stone.

Hour by hour, moment by moment, Lan Wangji proved himself a generally safe playmate for Wei Ying to mess around with. Terminally shy and worried, Wei Ying tried to keep a little distance between them, while Lan Wangji refused distance of any type, generating bodily conflict between them, heightening Lan Wangji’s interest and demonstrating for Wei Ying that death wasn’t incarnated in the form of his feral husband.

Wei Ying was the only thing of interest in Lan Wangji’s hellish life; his only possession. Interacting with him was a constant source of delight. A few sleeps went by as Lan Wangji was too fascinated and thrilled to leave. He relied on his golden core for sustenance, while following, sometimes chasing, occasionally pouncing, and near-constantly fucking his poor Wei Ying half to death.

Eventually though, Lan Wangji awoke thirsty. Licking dry lips, he loosened his grip and sat up, his cock slipping from Wei Ying’s body. He stretched and settled back over Wei Ying like a blanket, keeping him snug and warm. Another lick over dry lips finally reminded him of his duties; gathering water and food for himself and his captive. He'd forgotten completely until that moment, realizing only now what might be causing his Wei Ying to howl so much:

Wei Ying’s belly was grumbling.

The noise was rather loud in the dark. Roused from slumber, Lan Wangji understood the problem. His mate was hungry and thirsty, every bit as much as he was, perhaps more. This was confirmed after he touched where the breathing noises came from and encountered lips as dry and cracked as his own. He knew he was responsible for hunting, although he was loathe to leave. The tummy grumbling continued, drowning out the sounds of Wei Ying’s soft breathing. He expected some reaction from Wei Ying for the impossibly loud sounds of his tummy. He expected Wei Ying to wake, deluging him with more pleading noises.

But nothing happened.

Nestled beneath, Wei Ying didn’t stir whatsoever. It was as if he was so used to the pain of hunger that he didn’t even wake for it anymore. That was kind of concerning, but although his golden core was the source of his unhappiness, the greater implications were lost on the feral Lan Wangji. He simply grew unhappy to hear the unhappy-tummy-grumbling in a deeper way than any other feral ever would.

Lan Wangji pushed off the furrow, towards the flat rock. Hesitating there, he turned back towards his sleeping Wei Ying. He really didn’t want to leave, but Wei Ying needed food. If he was keeping his mate trapped within his nook, then he alone was responsible for meals.

The exodus went easily enough. Nothing soothed Lan Wangji’s soul like the sound of the flat rock settling into place. He knew that Wei Ying could never escape him, so long as the rock stood guard in his stead.

Warily, Lan Wangji headed out of the crack. After dousing the usual rocks outside the sanctuary and at the peripheral of his territory, he paused to smell Fèngfēng once more. Scowling, he covered Fèngfēng’s contributions with liberal amounts of his own scent. His efforts were doomed, though. His bladder was nearly empty while his rival had been busy and now there was too much stench to properly douse.

Goddamn Fèngfēng!

At least the hunt for food was successful.

Returning with a skull-cup of water and a mouthful of worm meat, Lan Wangji accidentally swallowed most of it while intercepting Wei Ying after he’d moved the huge flat rock out of the way. He nearly lost Wei Ying, too. Luckily his fingers tangled into Wei Ying’s hair, which he used to haul Wei Ying back into the nook.

Lan Wangji’s reward for such diligence was a piercing, high-pitched squeal. Regardless, he tossed Wei Ying back into the softness that was their sleeping nook. Wei Ying made the most interesting sounds, especially when his devious plans were thwarted!

After restoring the flat rock, Lan Wangji settled down to enjoy the theatrics. Wei Ying didn’t like being in the nook, didn’t like the flat rock keeping him inside, and apparently really didn’t like his hair pulled. The complaints were noisy and punctuated by expressive flailing. This was actually helpful, because it assured Lan Wangji exactly where Wei Ying’s mouth was. He fished out a plug of worm meat and plopped it into Wei Ying’s screeching mouth. He was gratified when the cries cut off amid a torrent of chewing.

Then the complaints returned, threefold. Now Wei Ying was rolling around on the soft bedding, making choking noises like he was dying. Lan Wangji cocked his head, suspicious. He’d made sure that piece was thoroughly harmless. There was no way it was killing his Wei Ying. The dramatics made no sense. Moreover, he couldn’t understand the problem.

Finally Lan Wangji grew concerned enough to intervene. He hauled Wei Ying into his lap and checked his mouth, but the meat was gone. Licking his sore fingers, he ignored the endless hysterics that his more forceful handling caused. He noticed instead that Wei Ying’s stomach was making gurgling noises. These were different from the grumbling noises, which only happened when he had something in there to gurgle over. His mate should be happy with something to soothe his tummy.

So what was the problem?

Lan Wangji had no idea and couldn’t ask. But this kept happening, over and over. Sleep after sleep, hunt after hunt. Eventually Lan Wangji perceived that while Wei Ying always accepted his skull-cup of water, he simply didn’t like the worm meat. He wanted something else. The only thing that Wei Ying ever willingly ate were cockroaches, but that couldn't be his preference.

Was it?

It couldn’t be.

Cockroaches weren’t food. They were a prank of nature; garbage creatures with no redeeming value. Disgusting on every level, they smelled like long dead things and couldn’t taste any better. Also, they had lots of legs that wiggled on the way down and kept moving long after they were dead. It wasn't tenable to eat them. Lan Wangji couldn't think all these thoughts, but felt them deeply.

But.

Wei Ying insisted on roaches.

Was it actually possible Wei Ying didn’t like worm meat? Sometime later, Lan Wangji accidently put his suspicions to the test when he captured both types while out hunting. Returning, he held out a plug of meat in one hand and a wiggling cockroach between two fingers of his other hand. He offered these hands to Wei Ying...

...who promptly investigated both and made the exact wrong decision. Accepting the cockroach with a peal of something resembling happiness, Wei Ying crunched and chewed down the whole thing. Then he tenderly gathered the chunk of genuinely delicious worm meat and coaxed it between Lan Wangji’s own lips with soft coos of delight.

You eat the meaty chunks to stay big and strong, and I’ll eat the roaches and slowly starve to death because roaches aren’t food, seemed to be Wei Ying’s intention.

No accounting for taste?

Ridiculous.

-o-o-o-

Lan Wangji continued to feed Wei Ying.

Beyond the trust that grew steadily between them, Lan Wangji took great pleasure in providing both food and water. He enjoyed feeding Wei Ying with his mouth and fingers — but his mouth especially.

It was Lan Wangji’s special burden and personal hell to dive after any cockroaches he uncovered, because Wei Ying refused to accept the worm meat. Lan Wangji had gotten sneaky though. He began chewing the roaches and worm meat together and then feeding Wei Ying the resulting mess. His ridiculously picky mate had hesitated at first, suspicious. But his tummy was always grumbling. Sometimes he still protested, but as he grew weaker, it was easier to force food into his mouth.

Settling down, Lan Wangji was feeling pleased with himself. He'd gone without any mouthfuls for himself for handfuls of sleeps at a time. He was starting to lose weight, too. More often than not, he suffered hunger along with his Wei Ying, but the sacrifice was worth it for these moments. His self-satisfied basking was interrupted when he heard Wei Ying throw himself into his furrow with a huff, only to stir a few moments later, amid groaning noises. Getting back up, Wei Ying rustled over to a corner and dug into the dirt there with many a noisy complaint.

Lan Wangji didn’t disturb Wei Ying's business. Nor did he mind the brief bad smell, not the least because he refused to allow Wei Ying to leave for any reason. The grunting noises, though. The sound of straining piqued his interest.

Instincts screamed to life.

Hurtling over to the furrow just as Wei Ying tossed himself inside, Lan Wangji bodily hauled Wei Ying back out. Wei Ying yelped for the surprise and climbed up Lan Wangji's back, scrabbling and clinging to him like a barnacle in rough surf. His song sounded confused and indignant. Meanwhile, Lan Wangji's focus had narrowed for excitement. He began digging around the fabric of the furrow. Ignoring his mate’s complaints, Lan Wangji scrabbled there; searching for something small and mewling. The sounds of Wei Ying straining had woken something within him. Something that his instincts assured him was natural and good; a small and delicate something should be down in the furrow after such straining effort.

It was the third thing, the last missing piece of happiness. It was the reason he needed to hold a good territory and ensure other Zuìchū stayed away — to keep them from taking Wei Ying from him and eating his small mewling thing.

A confused Wei Ying climbed down his back and slumped there, mumbling to himself. At the same time, Lan Wangji investigated the furrow to an excessive degree. Finding nothing, he began searching the rest of the nook, just in case. But no matter how hard he searched, there wasn’t anything small, soft, and mewling to be found. He returned and considered the bottom of the furrow at length. Then he considered Wei Ying, after climbing onto and sitting on Wei Ying’s belly again.

“Lan-er-gege?” asked Wei Ying, confused when the moment went long. He was not privy to the strange place the space between Lan Wangji’s ears had become. He cuddled closer, shivering for cold while sequestered in a warm place.

Lan Wangji couldn’t explain his disappointment and tucked Wei Ying down into the furrow instead. He settled over the top of Wei Ying, warming him. He showered the little body with affection, and his tongue.

One of those things Wei Ying always appreciated.

The other, not so much.

Too bad.

-o-o-o-

Something was wrong with Fèngfēng.

Lan Wangji couldn’t care less, except that Fèngfēng kept approaching him, over and over. He made strange, unhappy noises and hovered nearby, intercepting Lan Wangji in the outer boundaries of his territory whenever he could, but not engaging with him. Not willingly. Fèngfēng’s true interests remained elsewhere. If pressed, he would wrestle with Lan Wangji, but in a half-hearted and rather particular way.

The strangeness was relentless. Fèngfēng had disrupted Lan Wangji’s hunting for several sleeps now, and kept trying to force Lan Wangji in a certain direction. The low whining was also an indicator that something was wrong. Ferals never made such noises, no matter how bad their fighting went for them. But it seemed his rival was less concerned about fighting and more determined to get Lan Wangji to come with him.

Interest piqued, Lan Wangji disengaged for the umpteenth time — secretly unnerved how several times his rival had overwhelmed him because of his deteriorating condition — but this time he didn’t turn away. He scuffled in the sand and settled, scowling into the darkness in Fèngfēng’s general direction. He barely reacted when Fèngfēng approached and actually licked at the corner of his mouth, enticingly so. Leaning back, displeased, Lan Wangji nonetheless followed Fèngfēng into the dark. He was too curious to disregard his rival.

Lan Wangji was surprised when Fèngfēng led him halfway through the cavern and into a side cave. The opening was half-blocked with dirt, hiding the entrance somewhat. Lan Wangji balked there, unsure. There was a low series of moans coming from inside, accompanied by moist scents of sickness and death.

Fèngfēng tried to engage again. He wanted Lan Wangji to follow him inside. This would never have happened even a month ago, but their golden cores were making headways with them. Unsure and unsettled, Lan Wangji almost refused, but finally his curiosity got the better of him. It was true that curiosity killed the cat, but inside Lan Wangji went, all the same. He paused in the entrance, concerned when a strange and terrible smell smote his nose. Fèngfēng whined again and after another moment, Lan Wangji finally committed and crept inside.

The terrible smells were overwhelming.

There were soft moans coming from a pitiful wreck of a Zuihou, lying flat on the ground. He was suffering some dreadful affliction. Lan Wangji recognized him as the occasional wanderer he’d encountered in the dark, while hunting for Wei Ying. He had captured and bullied the hell out of this one, mistaking him for Wei Ying several times. It wasn’t so much his fault, because this one had no scent while wandering either, but was just a little too noisy for his own good. For his part, Ling Ping had learned to hate Lan Wangji’s harsh, investigating fingers. Less tolerant of body-wide bruising than Wei Ying, he went to great lengths to avoid Lan Wangji, including learning to travel quieter. But now it seemed he was unlikely to wander ever again, because he was the source of the terrible smell.

Fèngfēng rushed to Ling Ping’s side and whined over him. He licked Ling Ping’s cheek and lips, trying to comfort him. The sickly-sweet scent of rotting flesh that permeated the side cave came in horrific waves.

Lan Wangji investigated with some reluctance. His fingers were harsh and made Ling Ping cry. He continued regardless of the piercing cries, only to discover that the flesh was missing entirely from Ling Ping’s right leg. His leg and foot bones were wholly exposed, terminating with a wedge of bone devoid of toes.

Someone had eaten Ling Ping alive.

Lan Wangji recoiled, fuming. The situation was powerfully ugly. He couldn’t help but compare the scenario if Wei Ying was here, smelling like this, missing his flesh. It seemed a warning, but as Fèngfēng moaned over Ling Ping’s wracked face, Lan Wangji’s attention turned toward the other bodies in the cave. They were stinking Zuìchū, foul with stale musk and drying shit, because they were very dead. The enfolding story was somewhat beyond Lan Wangji’s understanding. He struggled with such things, but managed to perceive the gist of it.

Ling Ping was Fèngfēng’s mate.

Being one of many mates, somehow Fèngfēng had lost Ling Ping, likely due to hunger, much as Wei Ying was trying to escape past the flat rock and disappear to hunt for himself.

While wandering, Ling Ping had picked the wrong cave to enter, encountering a disorderly group of bachelor Zuìchū. These ferals must have injured him while fighting over him in an enclosed space. He became injured enough to be immobile, and then the Zuìchū who won the battle ended up being the worst possible thing. He was a shit hunter, and when he grew hungry enough, he'd attacked the helpless Ling Ping instead of protecting him.

By the time Fèngfēng managed to track Ling Ping down, the damage was done. There was no saving Ling Ping, that part seemed obvious to Lan Wangji. The smells and sounds from Ling Ping assured him that this was the end of the road. But it seemed Fèngfēng wanted Lan Wangji to help, somehow.

Do something, insisted Fèngfēng.

It was painfully obvious that Fèngfēng was devoted to his mate. He kept moving to Ling Ping’s front and trying to gather him. Ling Ping, crying rivers of pain throughout this time, began to scream pitifully as his body was lifted in rough arms. Fèngfēng tried to comfort him, mouthing kisses over his face. Then he returned to Lan Wangji, trying to encourage him.

Finally Lan Wangji pieced together that Fèngfēng wanted him to help move Ling Ping. It seemed he wanted to relocate Ling Ping to his cave for tending. Perhaps the cave was more defensible, but the jostling was too painful for Ling Ping. There was no way they would make the journey across the cavern with him screaming. Somehow, likely thanks to his strong golden core, Fèngfēng had come to the conclusion that he needed help, and seemed to think Lan Wangji was approachable for this.

But Lan Wangji didn’t follow his lead.

Instead, Lan Wangji sniffed over Ling Ping carefully, tracing the infection. The still-attached and exposed leg bone was rife with gangrene. Ling Ping was flush with fever, his body fighting a losing battle with creeping infection. His pain was unimaginable and now even his organs were abandoning him; shutting down one by one. He had many other wounds, including missing fingers. He'd lost them while trying to defend himself, and those stumps were rotting, too. His suffering was reaching a crescendo, with many hours left to go until death. Another few sniffs assured there was no possible recovery.

It was already over.

Lan Wangji hesitated as Fèngfēng hovered nearby, seeming beside himself with distress. There was only one thing Lan Wangji could do for Ling Ping now. Reaching out, he carefully wrapped his powerful hands around the suffering Ling Ping’s throat. Then he squeezed the airway shut. The piteous cries cut off, causing Fèngfēng to creep closer, unaware of what exactly was happening, yet hopeful his pack mate could somehow help.

It took barely a minute before Ling Ping slumped into the embrace of death.

Then Lan Wangji withdrew.

Unsure what had happened, Fèngfēng took his place at Ling Ping's side. He grunted his confusion for the abrupt silence and licked gently over his mate's motionless, tear-streaked face. As Lan Wangji left the cave behind, he heard Fèngfēng’s sudden, mournful cry. There was nothing further to be done. Lan Wangji abandoned the wretched cave at speed, heading back towards his sanctuary. His own mate was very much alive and needed him.

Fèngfēng could find another mate.

-o-o-o-

Lan Wangji remained disturbed.

Wei Ying greeted the returning Lan Wangji as always, while trying to slip past to freedom. After being thwarted, he collided with Lan Wangji while making excited noises, expecting something to eat. Lan Wangji hated disappointing him, but there was nothing for it. He waited patiently while Wei Ying investigated his fingers and then his mouth, hoping for a morsel. Instant complaining broke out when it was clear Lan Wangji had failed at his task.

Lan Wangji wasn’t surprised when Wei Ying tried to lead him to the flat rock. This happened constantly, even hundreds of times. Wei Ying insisted on being released to hunt for his beloved cockroaches himself. But Lan Wangji had all the reasons he needed to keep Wei Ying safely within his nook.

Hauling a protesting Wei Ying back to the furrow, Lan Wangji nestled him inside. Then he cleaned every inch of his Wei Ying, starting with his face and mouth. He licked over the source of all the wonderful noise, surprising Wei Ying with his gentleness. He even pressed his tongue inside, tickled into a finger-curling amusement when Wei Ying hummed appreciatively and deepened their connection into a kiss. Lan Wangji devoured the songs from his mate's throat with something approaching desperation. Such music seemed even more precious now, after Lan Wangji perceived that Fèngfēng would never hear his mate’s songs ever again. Then he began licking his way down Wei Ying's body.

“Waaah!!” wailed Wei Ying, taking umbrage at being cleaned, as usual.

Lan Wangji completely ignored his squealing, also per usual. He spent extra time cleaning the places that Ling Ping had been wounded. He examined and diligently licked down Wei Ying’s long, slim leg, which smelled healthy. That was reassuring, except the limb was very slender, moreso than last time. The meat on Wei Ying's legs was vanishing away, as starvation devoured him alive.

Wei Ying was dangerously thin everywhere.

As Lan Wangji redoubled his efforts to comfort himself by comforting his mate, Wei Ying stopped protesting. He settled down and situated himself, huddling against Lan Wangji’s belly instead. Then he began licking and sucking at Lan Wangji’s half-hard cock, bringing him fully erect within moments. Though he enjoyed being groomed there, it wasn’t his preference for sex. It was a good idea though, as taking Wei Ying would be sure to improve his dismal mood. But when Lan Wangji tried to sit up and take Wei Ying by the hips, his beautiful Wei Ying refused with curt little slaps.

“Mmph,” cried Wei Ying around his mouthful of cock, insisting on keeping Lan Wangji in his throat.

The connection between this reaction and Lan Wangji returning home without food never occurred to him. In fact, he'd even begun protesting spending in Wei Ying’s mouth. He wasn't agreeable. Not so long as the furrow remained empty of a small, mewling thing that instinct assured him would come if he fucked and fed his mate to excess.

The feeding part was the problem. Lan Wangji was doing plenty of fucking, but knew himself for a failure at providing enough food. It was a constant source of unrest. Hunting was the only reason he left the nook anymore. A shiver of unhappiness crept down his spine, but the insistent mouth sucking on his cock provided a timely distraction.

Lan Wangji’s hands landed on Wei Ying’s head, buried themselves in Wei Ying’s hair. Excited, his fingers clenched, gently so, even as he tried to pull Wei Ying off his cock. He wanted to spend in Wei Ying's hole, even as the tension in his belly peaked. The argument was lost as he spilled down Wei Ying’s throat despite his desires, pulse after pulse, mindlessly filling Wei Ying’s belly that way.

Wei Ying licked up every drop, muttered something, and then smacked his lips. It seemed Wei Ying’s own dismal mood immediately improved, especially as Lan Wangji settled over his body and began to lick over his cock and balls, diligently so.

The resulting “hehehe” and Wei Ying’s merry scrabbling for hand-holds and thrusting his conveniently smaller cock against Lan Wangji’s tongue, eased the ache in Lan Wangji’s heart. Moreso the sudden nervous squeaks from Wei Ying when Lan Wangji tried to return the favor and use his mouth. After a last few licks, he sucked in a mouthful of Wei Ying's cock between his sharp teeth, mimicking what Wei Ying had done with him.

Wei Ying's reaction was interesting; full of squirming squirrelly-ness. He kept trying to rescue his cock from the dubious confines of Lan Wangji's mouth with nervous cries of “gege I don't think this is a good idea—”

Wei Ying's noises culminated into a yowl when Lan Wangji accidentally scrapped his teeth down soft, velvety skin. That sent Wei Ying scrabbling up the walls with hysterical howls of “that’s not food er-gege!” which ended their play a little early.

Ah well.

-o-o-o-

So apparently Wei Ying still wanted roaches.

The signs had been there from the beginning, but Lan Wangji still couldn’t understand why Wei Ying consistently refused his meaty offerings and demanded roaches instead. It was a constant battle to force worm meat down his mate’s throat, and then to guard him through the hysterical rolling and screaming, in case something bad actually happened.

This was a problem.

Lan Zhan checked the furrow again, and there still wasn’t anything small and mewling there. He blamed himself, as always. Wei Ying did bear some responsibility as the person owning the hole that said mewling things must come from. But while trapped in the nook it was Lan Wangji who must provide, and clearly he wasn’t doing a good enough job. It wasn’t really his fault that Wei Ying needed so much more food than he did. Especially considering Wei Ying's need was so much greater that Lan Wangji couldn’t perceive just how dismal his efforts even were.

Lan Wangji was doing his best to provide, even going without. His own body was starting to show signs of deprivation. He'd lost weight — though nothing like Wei Ying. The consequences were more a steady hunger and growing weakness, though he couldn't understand how badly his poor Wei Ying was actually suffering. All he knew was that he was providing food and that Wei Ying remained too thin. Alas, there was nothing better for either of them. Still, he wanted the mewling things, enough food or no.

The compromise was that Lan Wangji spent an inordinate amount of time with Wei Ying tucked beneath him, squeaking noisily while Lan Wangji licked over the spot he was certain the mewling things should come out of. Diligent in his efforts, he tried to stimulate things along while ignoring all the noises coming from his Wei Ying.

“How?” wailed Wei Ying, utterly flummoxed. “How are you this shameless, while I cry for shame every single day?”

It was an exaggeration without an answer, because Lan Wangji didn’t have an ounce of shame in his entire body. No, he wanted little mewling things. And he was certain the little pink hole was where they were hiding. He stuck his tongue as far inside as he could manage, licking there as if he could find what he wanted if he just searched far enough. When that didn’t work, he tried fucking and then checked again. His results were questionable. He’d certainly stimulated Wei Ying into orgasm. Multiple times even, until the little body was a boneless pile beneath him, his sac completely loose and emptied. But still no mewling things.

Mn.

Then Lan Wangji left a squeaky-clean Wei Ying to recover in his furrow, half-curled with his knees and heels tucked over his sensitive regions, both front and back, while making mumbling noises that sounded like “you know I can’t actually have your babies, right Lan Zhan?”

Which of course Lan Wangji couldn’t understand and wouldn’t have believed even if he did understand, because his instincts assured him it was just a matter of time...

Also, the food problem.

Well, this wakening seemed a good time to handle all these problems, starting with a damned good licking and now plenty of food — which he was determined to fetch, come hell or... well mostly just hell, apparently.

Heading out, Lan Wangji returned to his hunting with vigor. A stroke of good luck was his when he discovered an unknown pool that was barely a crack at the surface, but opened into a deeper cistern below. It was full of feather-duster worms, which hadn’t ever been predated upon. Head down and ass up, he gathered quite the handful of the unsuspecting things.

Then, on his way back, Lan Wangji heard a buzzing of wings as two male cockroaches battled for a small nest of ladies, huddled under a rock. Smashing his fist down, he claimed the two combatants and their small harem to take back to Wei Ying.

Such a good hunt!

Returning triumphant, Lan Wangji basked in the glow of Wei Ying’s excited chatter as he scarfed the handful of roaches on offer. Even better that the roaches were smashed into several helpings of worm meat, which Wei Ying didn’t notice, or pretended not to. There wasn’t even a fight between them, this time! There were wings and legs without question, so it seemed Wei Ying consumed the mess unknowingly, without a hint of complaint.

“Good er-gege!” cried Wei Ying, rocking back and forth for the pleasure of an actual, honest meal.

Settling down, Lan Wangji sighed internally, especially when a satisfied Wei Ying snuggled up next to him. Moments later, Wei Ying's fingers teased up his body and then tangled in his hair. Slowly drawing the long strands through his fingers, Wei Ying brushed his hair until the strands fell free, then bound his hair up into a tail, tied with thick strands of fabric. Lan Wangji all but purred beneath the attention. It was a lovely feeling to be tended this way, and having his long hair out of his way was nicer still. Then a wondrous thing happened, which filled him with sheerest joy.

Wei Ying groomed him back.

With his tongue.

Oh, wondrous day!

-o-o-o-

Of course the good times didn’t last.

They never do.

Because a few sleeps later, as soon as Lan Wangji left the nook, Fèngfēng’s wretched horrible stench blighted his nose. This was especially upsetting because it meant his rival was present inside his sanctuary. Confirmation was immediate when Lan Wangji tripped over his rival's sleeping body a few paces away.

Fèngfēng was curled up and sleeping outside his nook, waiting for him.

Even worse, the relationship-bereft Fèngfēng had brought a smelly bit of somebody’s something and placed it atop the flat rock — as if in offering. His intentions were questionable, because this offering wasn’t meant for a fellow feral. This wasn’t Fèngfēng trying to feed Lan Wangji in a bout of confusion.

No, Fèngfēng was trying to provide food for Wei Ying.

His Wei Ying.

Upon discovering Fèngfēng’s sleeping body, Lan Wangji leapt upwards like a startled cat, limbs spayed every which way for his complete upset. He didn’t even attack, but threw himself back down into the nook. He paused only long enough to toss the stinking offering away across the sanctuary.

Fèngfēng’s curious snuffle went unanswered.

The flat rock settled back over the nook opening with a dull thud. Even so, the rotten smell from the offering did explain the marital discontent Lan Wangji had suffered upon awakening, because Wei Ying had smelt the piece of corpse past the flat rock and voraciously complained. His mate hated the stench of death. He refused to eat anything rotten, especially rotten things that even remotely resembled beings like themselves. Surely that was why he refused to accept the piece of worm meat Lan Wangji had found under their bedding, having been secretly discarded from a few days ago.

Also, Wei Ying had been secretly discarding his worm meat offerings, whenever he could get away with it.

The last few meals had been worm meat only, because cockroaches were miserable things and he was hoping that Wei Ying wouldn’t notice when the mash he made didn’t contain any cockroach. No such luck, proven when Wei Ying had accepted the meaty chunks with fake chewing and promptly hid them under their bedding.

Lan Wangji was not impressed.

No, there weren’t any cockroaches in his offerings. Yes, he understood Wei Ying didn’t like worm meat. But Wei Ying was desperately skinny now. He needed meat. And so, after shaking his obstinate mate like a rag doll for being so damned picky until Wei Ying tried to bury himself under their bedding again, he spent the most of that same time hunting down every hidden morsel and forcing the smelly bits down Wei Ying’s screaming throat.

Now Lan Wangji was really suffering marital problems. Even now, Wei Ying was still whining under their bedding. He refused to allow any grooming and kept re-burying himself when uncovered, howling piteously.

“Gege is killing me!” Wei Ying kept screaming. “Stop killing me, gege!”

Lan Wangji settled above the currently empty furrow, basking in the noise of his very much alive mate, while considering his most recent discovery. He knew it was just a matter of time before Fèngfēng figured out how to move the flat rock from its place and uncover the nook below. He was sure to try something with Wei Ying, something that had Lan Wangji bristling down to his bones.

Suddenly upset, Lan Wangji went to dig Wei Ying out from his hiding place under the bedding, which was quite thick by this point. He managed to uncover a too-slender foot, which tried to kick him.

Clenching down, Lan Wangji controlled the ankle. Then he began licking the pad with its wiggling toes, intending a grooming session to calm his nerves. He had no notions of tickling or ticklishness, because he didn’t suffer from that condition.

So it came as a delightful surprise when Wei Ying began to writhe and squeal “Yiyah Lan Zhaaaan!” beneath his layers of bedding, in the particular way he did whenever something truly scandalous was happening to some part of him.

The noises were utterly delightful.

Lan Wangji still didn’t know what a smile was, but if he could have seen himself, he would have realised the perfect definition plastered over his face. He continued his efforts, tracing over a roundish scar and then sucking on the wiggling toes, which had Wei Ying exploding up out of his bedding with a “Stop that Lan Zhan! Stop tickling! Lanzhaaaaan! Stooop!” and doing everything in his power to wrest his foot back.

Unfortunate that Wei Ying couldn’t wrestle so much as a feather into submission. Because there was absolutely no way that Lan Wangji was releasing that foot while his mate was making those sorts of noises. This play continued for some time, until Fèngfēng ruined everything, as per usual.

Lan Wangji heard scratching and released his mate instantly. Rearing up, he heard his rival prowling outside. It was just a matter of time before Fèngfēng uncovered the secret to entering the last safe place Lan Wangji had left, to brutally rape his mate, possibly to death. He didn’t take into consideration Fèngfēng’s perceptions of them as pack mates, or that Fèngfēng seemed content to share a mate between them.

Wei Ying was his mate, and he would tolerate no other.

“Lan Zhaaaan, you’re so mean,” cried Wei Ying, piteously so. His voice was muffled from the many layers of cloth he was currently burrowing back under. It seemed he had no idea what was threatening them. He had no idea what horror hunted him outside the door of their nook, and that suited Lan Wangji just fine.

The flat rock shifted as Fèngfēng prowled over it.

Suddenly enraged, Lan Wangji came boiling up from below. He even forgot to return the flat rock in his quest to utterly destroy Fèngfēng once and for all. He leapt and engaged, trying to rip out Fèngfēng’s throat in a surprise attack, but his unwanted frenemy seemed enthused. Fèngfēng took his ferocity as a sort of “good morning dear friend of mine” greeting between pack mates.

It was the start of another legendary fight. But to Lan Wangji’s complete horror, he could not make good on his decision to end his strange association with Fèngfēng. The bastard refused to die, or even acknowledge that Lan Wangji was trying his damnedest to kill him.

Even worse, near the end of the fight, Lan Wangji’s strength began to buckle under Fèngfēng’s relentless onslaught. His sacrifice for his precious Wei Ying bore sour fruit as he ended up on his back, and then his stomach as Fèngfēng managed to capture his wrists with one massive hand and then twist him over. Positioning himself over the back of Lan Wangji — just like a Zuìchū with a new Zuihou — he mock-mounted him. This was not for sexual gratification, but a demonstration of domination and both of them knew it.

Fèngfēng was the stronger now.

Lan Wangji took the demonstration very badly. He thrashed madly and bolted away. He threw himself into the outer pool — now barren of feather-duster worms — and removed the stench of Fèngfēng from his ass with both hands. Shaking with fury, he found himself at a loss and didn’t know what to do. He’d lost the fight — fairly so.

That meant something down here.

Even worse, after cleaning himself, Lan Wangji realised that Fèngfēng hadn’t followed him. Wasn’t settling down next to him, making that huff-huff-huff noise he hated so much. That could only mean one thing.

Lan Wangji dived back through the crack, an easier task now that he’d lost some weight. Racing back into the sanctuary proper, he reached the nook at speed and sure enough, he could hear rustling inside, because he’d forgotten to return the flat rock over the entrance. Now he could smell Fèngfēng inside his special, secret place where he kept his most precious possession.

It was intolerable.

Lan Wangji and Fèngfēng had another fight, rather short, right there in the entrance of the nook. It ended at an impasse, after Fèngfēng planted himself and wouldn’t let Lan Wangji inside. Alas, for his sacrifice, Lan Wangji had permanently lost the upper hand with Fèngfēng. That meant he was forced to endure more pointless, infuriating posturing.

Forced back, a frantic Lan Wangji was left without recourse. There he stood, shaking in anguish as Fèngfēng investigated every fold of bedding inside the nook. Fèngfēng could smell Wei Ying and was making soft, inquisitive noises while he searched. The bastard even checked the furrow for small, mewling things, intending hell-knows-what. There was no question what was going to happen to the much-weakened Wei Ying once Fèngfēng found him, presumably under the layers of bedding. No question what Wei Ying would suffer when Lan Wangji couldn’t drive his rival away.

“Er-gege?” whispered Wei Ying, nervously so.

Lan Wangji whirled, his back to the sleeping nook. His nose bumped into Wei Ying’s nose. Then a shaking Lan Wangji pulled Wei Ying into his arms. He suffered a full-body shudder, overcome with relief. Then he gathered his Wei Ying onto his back.

It seemed Wei Ying had no idea what was happening. He was making his standard greeting noises, carelessly so. It was obvious that he was trying to make a big deal of returning to Lan Wangji, having climbed out of the nook by himself after Lan Wangji forgot to return the flat rock over the entrance.

Too upset for anything else, Lan Wangji hefted a playful Wei Ying into a piggyback hold, like they did sometimes in the nook. Wei Ying made happy noises and kissed his neck and cheek while Lan Wangji fled with him. He abandoned the sanctuary for the whole of that waking period.

They went hunting for cockroaches instead.

Lan Wangji was so nervous he barely kept from shaking Wei Ying off his back. It was understandable that Wei Ying assumed it was because he was afraid of losing his mate in the dark. That was one of Lan Wangji’s worries, but not the worst one.

It helped when Wei Ying went out of his way to make soothing noises. He kept scampering a few hands-breadths away and then straight back with reassuring chatter. It seemed he was trying to reinforce that he wasn’t abandoning Lan Wangji, but merely exploring. He demonstrated again and again that he would return. Lan Wangji allowed this, but only so long as Wei Ying kept some part of himself in contact with him. A hand, a foot — something, anything.

It ended up being one of their better days, actually.

The smells in the central cavern had settled now. The darkness was eerily silent. It seemed most of the bachelor groups were disbanded or destroyed. It wouldn’t have surprised Lan Wangji to learn that Fèngfēng had gone on a revenge tour after losing Ling Ping.

That Fèngfēng had rampaged throughout the cavern, killing as many of the bachelor groups and various outcasts that he could find, feasting upon their bodies for weeks while building his strength. Now the few remaining Zuihou were sequestered in highly defensible sub-caves with impenetrable entrances due to Fèngfēng’s great size, populated by viciously devoted Zuìchū that Fèngfēng could not hope to dig out without taking severe injuries. Lan Wangji was the only Zuìchū with a mate that Fèngfēng could reliably bully into sharing territory with.

Aware of the danger, Lan Wangji might not have returned to the breeched sanctuary, except that a scatter-shower of pebbles nearby warned him that his rival was hunting them. Wei Ying, still obvious, was too busy digging out a few roaches to notice the danger. Content to trust his safety to his vicious gege, Wei Ying was too focused on putting something in his aching belly, such that he was taken completely by surprise when Lan Wangji caught and slung him over his back.

Enduring the noisy protests that would have Fèngfēng hot on their heels, Lan Wangji hurtled away with Wei Ying clinging to his back, returning to the only place that could keep Fèngfēng at bay, even if only temporarily.

The only saving grace to the slow-motion disaster Lan Wangji was trapped in was that Fèngfēng had yet to figure out the secret of the flat rock. Fèngfēng wasn’t as desperate as Lan Wangji, who still had a mate to protect and responsibilities to the small, mewling things that weren’t there yet, but were sure to appear any time now.

The flat rock would keep Fèngfēng at bay... at least for now.

-o-o-o-

The situation with Fèngfēng was really frightening.

Lan Wangji was starting to get extremely defensive about his Wei Ying, veering into neurotic territory. But life still needed living, and Wei Ying still needed to eat, and so Lan Wangji still needed to hunt. Leaving Wei Ying inside the nook was too dangerous, so Lan Wangji finally succumbed and took Wei Ying with him wherever he went. They only returned to the sanctuary to sleep in the tenuous safety of the nook, and otherwise they wandered the vast reaches of the central cavern.

Wei Ying was vastly happier.

Lan Wangji, much less so. The threat from Fèngfēng was constant. Wei Ying’s merry chatter, while quieter during their forays, was a potent lure. During this time, there was no way for Lan Wangji to easily hunt for feather-duster worms. He tried his best though, and always brought himself and Wei Ying to the edge of a pool during their waking periods, to make the attempt. Alas, Wei Ying was too disruptive while searching for roaches. His antics never failed to drive the wary worms back into their rocky shelters, leaving Lan Wangji endlessly hungry. The next source of marital conflict didn’t involve food, however.

Lan Wangji was content with the state of his body; the lean muscle and powerful reek. But Wei Ying was of a different opinion. After locating a handful of roaches, Lan Wangji dutifully handed them over to a cooing Wei Ying. Then he settled back at the edge of the pool furthest from their sanctuary, at the opposite end of the cavern.

Lan Wangji was powerfully hungry by this point. He knelt over the edge, studying the still water of the pool. Below the surface, the feather-duster worms were considering extending. They needed to fill their own bellies with bacterial goodness from the water column. Lan Wangji had hoped that Wei Ying would settle against his back and sleep, as he often did after a mouthful, but his hopes were dashed.

The half-emerged worms vanished back into their hidey-holes as Wei Ying splashed into the water, gathering handfuls and wetting Lan Wangji down. It was the precursor of a bath, which Lan Wangji had suffered before, but generally hated. He could be coaxed or distracted into the pools sometimes, but today was not one of those times.

Lan Wangji was hungry.

Bathing was the last thing Lan Wangji wanted. The duel disruptions of his hunting and his reputation-as-scent were frustrating. So he tried to haul Wei Ying onto his back to hold him. He intended to warm and stroke Wei Ying until he relaxed into sleep, but it seemed Wei Ying wasn’t content to snuggle.

“Smelly gege,” whispered Wei Ying.

Then Wei Ying wiggled free and dived into the water, surfacing and swimming there. He lifted his hands and splashed, tossing water on Lan Wangji. Thoroughly doused, Lan Wangji shook himself like a dog. Then he frowned in Wei Ying’s general direction. Following the sound of disturbed water, he reached out and grabbed Wei Ying’s arm, hauling him back. Because they had an understanding. Something of Wei Ying was always in contact with Lan Wangji’s body, or there would be consequences.

Wei Ying submitted to the bullying, even while wrapping fabric around his hands. Then he continued his ministrations, regardless. It felt like grooming. Lan Wangji suffered his mate’s attentions as he focused on the empty places the worms should be extending themselves from. It had been hours, now. He really needed to eat a few of them.

Eventually though, Lan Wangji couldn’t keep ignoring Wei Ying’s particularities. Especially when Wei Ying decided he needed attention. Wei Ying was impossible to ignore at times like this. He climbed up Lan Wangji’s body and slung his legs over Lan Wangji’s shoulders, engaging with the whole of him. Then he wrapped his thin arms around Lan Wangji’s neck, smothering his face in deserving kisses for finding so many roaches for didi.

There Wei Ying dangled, hanging from Lan Wangji’s body such that his nethers were close enough to be scented... and there wasn’t any scent. Thanks to multiple dunkings and scrubbings, they were both clean-smelling now.

Wei Ying was thrilled.

Lan Wangji was the exact opposite.

Sniffing suspiciously, Lan Wangji found he couldn’t smell himself on Wei Ying’s body anymore. It was a natural consequence of the miserable and irresponsible practice of bathing. As such, it was completely unacceptable. Shaking himself out of his mild kissy-face daze, he gathered Wei Ying and situated him lower, such that his cock aimed towards Wei Ying’s belly. Then he remedied the problem to his liking.

“Er-gege? Eeeer-gege? What’cha doing?”

There were a lot of things Wei Ying didn’t like; being stuck in nooks, his hole harassed for hours, force-feedings of anything that didn’t wiggle on the way down. Apparently getting peed on was another one of those things.

So unfortunate.

“Waaaaahahaha Er-gege, so filthy! Shameless! How dare gege treat me like this?!?! Now I need a another bath!”

Lan Wangji was through with bathing, though. He pulled the delightfully smelly Wei Ying onto his back, ignoring the hissy-fit complaints. His personal reek enclosed them in a smelly bubble that had his chin lifting for satisfaction. Then he prepared to head out. Wei Ying was too riled up for any chance of successful hunting. He would have to be lulled into a drowse before Lan Wangji had any hope of comforting his own belly. A few trips around the various pools in this section of the central cavern should do the trick.

There was a good chance that Wei Ying had no idea they were on the run from a predator Lan Wangji could no longer manage. He certainly didn’t bother to keep quiet during their hunts. Then again, there were so few ferals left alive anymore there was hardly any point, beyond Fèngfēng’s dangerous interest in them.

And so their lives went.

-o-o-o-

Something horrible happened to Wei Ying.

Lan Wangji mostly missed it, due to Wei Ying’s obsession with a stack of bones he’d collected, laboriously so. They had been inside the sanctuary and Wei Ying had been playing with his bone-stack, nestled in Lan Wangji’s lap. They looked like the happiest of couples to anyone who might have been watching, cuddling together like peas in a pod, each playing with their toys in the dark.

Their happiness was desperately out of place.

Tolerant of his mate’s obsessions, Lan Wangji listened to the rustle of bones in the dark. He was wary of unwanted company, but knew Fèngfēng was outside somewhere. His attention wandered as he stroked his precious mate; a matching expression of contentment on both their faces. The darkness remained unbroken... and then Wei Ying stiffened in his arms.

There was no warning, no rhyme or reason.

Wei Ying’s back arched. His head fell back, rolling on Lan Wangji’s shoulder. The cold bones fell from his nerveless hands like a puppet with cut strings. Lan Wangji pulled him a few paces, shaking and nuzzling him, confused. Whatever this was, it seemed different from Wei Ying’s normal faints. Above them, the air seemed heavier somehow. More ominous — as if containing something so foul even the darkness was recoiling.

Lan Wangji’s nose wrinkled, catching hints of something unearthly, something powerfully hideous, and then Wei Ying began to twist and writhe in his arms as if suffering through a violent seizure...

...and then he screamed.

The sound of Wei Ying’s terror set the hairs on Lan Wangji’s neck on end. At the same time, Wei Ying exploded from Lan Wangji’s arms and bolted towards the safety of the nook, currently uncovered. Diving down, Wei Ying threw himself into the safety of the furrow. There he clutched his head and kicked his legs as if suffering a near-lethal blow. His body writhed in the aftermath of something unspeakably brutal.

Lan Wangji had followed, remembering to haul the flat rock into place, locking them inside. Moving the flat, heavy thing was much harder than it used to be.

A miserable handful of sleeps followed, leaving Lan Wangji a nervous wreck as Wei Ying sank into a bizarre stupor. He refused to move and didn’t respond to anything Lan Wangji did, or didn’t do. Even worse, staying in one place for so long brought down upon them the worst sort of attention. Having finally tracked them down, Fèngfēng was hyper-aggressive after having lost them in the dark for so long.

The flat rock remained a mystery, but Fèngfēng could smell the two of them, their scent emanating between the cracks. Their rustling and Wei Ying’s occasional crying kept his attention riveted upon the space past the flat rock, which he couldn't seem to breach.

Lan Wangji didn’t dare challenge him, not anymore.  

There was no question which of them would emerge the winner, and so Fèngfēng lurked between the sanctuary and the boundary. Aggressively he defended their joint territory, while sharing in the hunting duties. It did help, frustratingly enough. After discovering some time ago that Lan Wangji considered cockroaches food — Fèngfēng didn’t, but refused to judge — he began gathering and pressing their crushed bodies past the tiny cracks at the edges of the flat rock, pushing them inside the nook.

Lan Wangji found them there, and while loathe to take them, had no choice if he wanted to keep Wei Ying fed. This continued for some time; them trapped inside and Fèngfēng trapped outside, taking up the duties of hunting and patrolling.

Luckily Fèngfēng wasn’t quite so clever enough to understand the mechanisms of rock-moving in the dark. He'd never encountered a moving rock, nor the concept of a 'door' and wasn't capable of imagining something he hadn’t first encountered.

But Lan Wangji did sometimes have to sneak out, when Fèngfēng was absent. Then the flat rock would move aside, demonstrating the mechanism and just how easy it would be to gain access.

It was just a matter of time.

-o-o-o-

The end came not long after.

It started when Lan Wangji woke to a softly whining Wei Ying, many sleeps after the strange attack that had floored him. This wasn’t unusual, because Wei Ying was always making noise about something. It wasn’t uncommon for him to stand straight up and scream at the ceiling, smashing his fists as if enraged, overcome with misfortunes.

But today was different, because today Wei Ying kept collapsing. He couldn’t keep upright, though it took Lan Wangji sometime before he realized this was real and not some tantrum. His Wei Ying was truly too weak to move.

Lan Wangji was also feeling faint, because he hadn’t eaten for some time. He was loathe to leave the nook and Fèngfēng was struggling to find any roaches to crush into the nook. Sometimes sleeps passed without Fèngfēng even returning, because he was the sort to keep focused on tasks, even ones he assigned to himself. Dominant pack mates hunted, so Fèngfēng devoted himself to hunting.

But Wei Ying needed more than a few crushed roaches, and a weakened Lan Wangji found himself forced to contend with the dangers outside the nook. After gathering Wei Ying, he struggled to move the flat rock aside and then warily emerged into the sanctuary proper... keenly understanding that each risk he took brought himself and Wei Ying closer to a seemingly inevitable captivity dominated by someone that neither of them wanted.

Thankfully the sanctuary was clear.

Lan Wangji hesitated in the nook entrance, nervous. Then he carried Wei Ying down to the edge of the sanctuary pool. There were a few sneaky feather-duster worms left in the rocky sides. These were juveniles lodged too deep in the sharp rocks to catch without slicing open his hand in the attempt. Lan Wangji had spared them, wary of taking needless wounds. But today his mate’s need was so great that he was prepared to suffer for the sake of his Wei Ying.

Settling down, Lan Wangji nestled Wei Ying against his back and leaned over the still water. He wasn’t surprised for the lack of vibration. Just the act of sitting down would be enough to send the worms into their crevices... patience was key.

Patience, and a quiet Wei Ying.

Too weak to do anything else, Wei Ying obliged him the quiet. He drowsed against Lan Wangji’s warm back, drops of drool dribbling down Lan Wangji’s tense muscles. Some hours later, Lan Wangji struck. Unflinchingly he thrust his hand into the rocks. He took hold of the worm and ripped the unfortunate from the rocks, suffering his hand being sliced open on both sides in the process.

Wei Ying’s delighted cries were worth the pain.

Lan Wangji warned his mate into silence, however reluctantly. Then he settled down to hunt the rest while a happy Wei Ying snuggled into his back. He relished his mate’s humming and little trembles, surely excited for more food, and then the inevitable finally happened.

Wei Ying’s warning cry had Lan Wangji whirling. His heart dropped into his empty stomach as Fèngfēng’s stench wafted into his face.

It was the beginning of the end.

Lan Wangji managed to draw Fèngfēng away with the promise of a fight that he had no hope of winning anymore. Fèngfēng seemed keen. His noises were confident and his grappling as powerful as ever. He’d been providing roaches to his entrenched pack mates — his efforts to claim Wei Ying for himself endlessly frustrated yet never abandoned — but continued to feast on bodies, such that his strength remained.

If this fight had been conducted in the bright place, Lan Wangji would have won without breaking a sweat. Somewhere deep inside, where the bright place lived, he knew that. It made his current weakness unbearable. He didn’t have a shining weapon, martial arts, a vast wealth of knowledge, or the use of his golden core beyond passive benefits. His mind was subsumed beneath a cruel array, and his body was weakened from months of deprivation. So when he grappled with Fèngfēng in the dark, it shouldn’t have been a surprise when, after giving his everything, it just wasn’t enough.

Realizing this, Lan Wangji changed his tactics in a split second. Landing a vicious bite on Fèngfēng’s arm — at least that remained satisfying — he turned and bolted before his rival could retaliate.

Rearing back, Fèngfēng launched forward and took the bait, chasing Lan Wangji outside. But Fèngfēng wasn’t so easily fooled, not again. He wouldn't allow himself to be drawn too far away. He knew Wei Ying was outside the nook. The little body was there for the taking; bliss incarnate and the only source of pleasure in the dark. Fèngfēng intended to claim him after reminding Lan Wangji of his place. And so Lan Wangji couldn’t draw him any further then a stone’s throw of the crack and there they grappled again.

Once again, Fèngfēng proved the stronger. Lan Wangji suffered to delay him, hunkering down as Fèngfēng began to drag him into the sanctuary, towards Wei Ying and a claiming that was long in the coming. Surely he would take Wei Ying from Lan Wangji, and leave him alive to suffer the aftermath.

Fèngfēng seemed calmer now, possessing an even temperament that was less inclined for raging. But Fèngfēng’s frustration got the better of him when Lan Wangji continued to resist him, even after losing the bout.

Finally Fèngfēng responded to the desperate challenge. He slammed Lan Wangji down to the ground and settled over the back of him, though stopping short of penetrating him. This time he refused to release Lan Wangji, but rubbed against his back as Lan Wangji continued to struggle, dominating him. He emptied himself in the effort to subdue his errant pack mate. Each time he explained, with harsh movement, who was the dominant member of their pack.

Currently, that pack leader was Fèngfēng, because he was stronger. They both understood this; the concept encoded deep within their instincts. Snarling soundlessly, a bullied Lan Wangji contested this with utmost fury, regardless of his weakness. They were not a pack, not pack mates, and he refused to share his Wei Ying with anyone!

Lan Wangji refused to yield.

And so Fèngfēng went further. He clenched harsh fingers around Lan Wangji's slender neck and squeezed off his air. Fèngfēng was only a single provocation away from inflicting certain death. Mercifully, Lan Wangji slumped into unconsciousness before the end of that particular demonstration. He woke a few moments later, his air returned mere seconds before death claimed him.

Gasping a low “mhn, uuf” while clearing his aching throat, Lan Wangji struggled onto his hands and knees, heedless of his pain. Blue lips curled, baring white teeth in the dark. His head was throbbing in a building migraine. Regardless, he wouldn’t let Wei Ying suffer the same. He forced himself to crawl forward, still intending to stop Fèngfēng somehow, but slumped in relief when his precious Wei Ying materialized out of the dark and flung himself into his arms.

Fèngfēng was barely a hands-breadth away.

Lan Wangji huffed and regained his feet as Fèngfēng pounced with an easy huff, seeming amused. He was in a playful mood and seemed intent upon knocking Lan Wangji to the ground and taking Wei Ying back. It seemed that Fèngfēng was otherwise satisfied with the three of them, together, as Fèngfēng believed they should be, and already were. Breaking free, a weak but determined Lan Wangji gathered Wei Ying over his back and raced towards the nook and the meager protection of the flat rock.

Wei Ying couldn’t protect himself.

Neither could Lan Wangji, not anymore. He would have already fallen. He would be hearing Fèngfēng taking Wei Ying right now, except that Fèngfēng had emptied himself dominating Lan Wangji already, such that they were in a brief lull before Fèngfēng would force the situation again.

It was just enough time for Lan Wangji to haul their sorry asses to the nook and drag the flat rock behind them. Using the last of his strength, he set the flat rock in place, hearing the thud of settling weight.

Lan Wangji collapsed onto the furrow thereafter, mentally exhausted and beside himself with rage. He jolted and shook when his unmolested Wei Ying snuggled into his warmth, his wrathful breaths echoing in the small confines of the nook. He suffered Wei Ying’s curious fingers without reproach, wincing as Wei Ying investigated his hurts and even licked a few of them. It was a potent reminder that his mate was worth dying for.

Soft, happy noises emanated from Wei Ying, who didn’t bother to keep quiet in the nook, even with Fèngfēng digging determinedly around the flat rock.

Wei Ying had no idea.

But Lan Wangji knew Fèngfēng. He knew what was coming. The digging continued, and then the flat rock moved. Lan Wangji bristled, half-rising and dislodging Wei Ying, tucking his delicate body into the warm embrace of the furrow. At the same time, Lan Wangji prepared himself for the last battle. He would not be struck aside. He would not listen to Fèngfēng hurt his mate.

Wei Ying was making his soft music when the flat rock was heaved from its place; tossed far enough away that Lan Wangji wouldn’t be able to retrieve it. Not before whatever was going to happen to him and Wei Ying was finished.

Fèngfēng forced his way inside the nook, his breaths harsh and eager. Lan Wangji felt an oblivious Wei Ying wiggle past his hip, crawling out of the furrow, and then Lan Wangji was mid-charge—

—when a burst of brilliant light interrupted the final battle, startling the combatants into stillness, even as Wei Ying began to squeal for sheerest excitement, his beautiful music loud in their ears, echoing off the walls—

Chapter Text

We’ve survived!

Wei Wuxian squirmed jubilantly as he was deposited in the exact same place — before the line of plinths — only to immediately collapse. His trembling legs couldn’t bear his meager weight. Gasping, he covered his eyes to spare them from the light, which was too bright. The explosion of sound and light assaulted his senses, in the exact opposite way he’d been accosted in the darkness. Except this time, the friendly chaos of living beings was most welcome.

Across the ornate wooden plinths, the surviving Zuìchū were reacting much the same. They had returned within seconds of vanishing, but the difference was shocking. Now the platform was mostly empty; only twelve hardy men were left alive.

The Zuihou line was even more pitiful. A mere six men huddled on the ground, including a reeling Wei Wuxian, who was currently gesturing with two fingers, summoning a dark curl of resentment just to prove that he could. Familiar screaming murmurs rushed by his ears, the cries of thousands of murdered concubines keening suggestions in his mind, setting his eyes a-gleam.

“Where are the rest?” gasped a lesser imperial attendant. “Was this supposed to happen?”

Another shook his head, confused. “I knew it was going to be difficult, but surely this is excessive—”

At the same time a third attendant bustled down the line several times, as if he couldn’t understand what he was seeing. “There should be more than this!”

The head attendant snapped his sleeves, nervously so, demanding quiet. The rest of the assistants leapt into action. A heavy curtain unrolled and dropped from the ceiling to conceal the returning men from the eyes of their friends, kinsfolk, and clans. The uproar was thus contained, setting the tone for the aftermath.

Through eyes teary with relief, Wei Wuxian was in no condition to challenge them. He blinked owlishly in the bright light and didn’t make a scene as he normally might. Seeing no immediate threat, he dismissed the dark curl of resentment. Already he felt more like himself. Reaching up, he touched his neck and felt only smoothness. His sense of smell was no longer wrapped around his hindbrain and he took a deep, cleansing breath. Then he caught sight of Lan Wangji, who was standing upright and exquisitely naked.

Lan Wangji was battered and bruised and thinner than he used to be, but was otherwise hale and hearty. Standing tall, he covered his eyes with both hands, rubbing them with a grimace. The light was too bright after so long spent in complete darkness.

Wei Wuxian caught only a glimpse of his beautiful, dirty cabbage before an attendant flung a robe around Lan Wangji to restore his modesty.

“Wei Ying?” cried Lan Wangji, confused. His mind was returned; he was making as if to scrabble around for his husband while still blinded. The sudden appearance of the robe confused him further — why was he naked?! — and he clutched the edge. “Wei Ying?!”

“I’m here,” cried Wei Wuxian, responding instinctively to the sudden fear in his husband’s voice. “Lan Zhan — I’m fine, but what about you? Are you alright?” He leaned forward apprehensively, prepared to crawl to his husband’s side if need be. He was expecting Lan Wangji to have a complete mental breakdown right there, but curiously that did not happen.

“What happened?” Lan Wangji asked instead, sounding confused. “Did the transportation spell fail?” He tried to walk towards Wei Wuxian, calling “Where are you?” but the attendants stopped him. They demanded he remain where he was, and for confusion he obeyed.

Lan Zhan doesn’t remember!

Wei Wuxian nearly fell backwards for surprise. His eyes widened, then he tapped his nose. It makes some sense, considering Lan Zhan’s higher consciousness was suppressed during our captivity.

“Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji called again, forcing himself to lower his hands.

“I — I’m here,” called Wei Wuxian. “It’s alright,” and he did everything he could to sound supportive. It must have worked, because his husband relaxed with a murmured “why is everything so bright now?” and then focused on rubbing his stinging eyes with the fingers of one hand, as was polite.

He’s going to be just fine, and then Wei Wuxian relaxed too, slumping back to the ground to rest. His eyes closed against the sting and the realization that he alone remembered was as much a selfish relief as a shock, because if not remembering was an option, then Wei Wuxian was prepared to be fine with that. He didn’t want Lan Wangji to remember. He didn’t want Lan Wangji to know he’d taken his Wei Ying captive; that he’d caused most of the bruises and bites that covered his body. I don’t want him to remember how shameless he was, because he had no choice. I don’t even want to tease him about it and his eyes brightened at the thought that his precious cabbage would be spared such humiliation. It’s not his fault they suppressed his mind. Nothing that happened to us is worth remembering. I will remember in his place and seek whatever revenge I can.

This seemed the best possible outcome, because Wei Wuxian was far more resilient against such horrors — at least in his own estimation. As he believed this of himself, his body began to tremble noticeably. To distract himself, he focused outward, casting his dark thoughts away. As he looked down the row, he saw the other men who’d once been mindless Zuìchū were much the same.

Hey, one of these guys is Fèngfēng, and Wei Wuxian squinted at them with watery eyes. He tried to make out details. He wanted to know what the man actually looked like, but there were too many swarming attendants. Inquisitive amid his helplessness, he watched as several of the former Zuìchū demanded to know what had happened. Then a familiar name shouted by a distraught man caught his attention.

“Ling Ping — where are you?” cried a massive cultivator, who was somehow still lean, with a trim waist. He was draped in the same modesty robe and was floundering just as badly as any of them in the bright light. He was in the Zuìchū line, though the space across from him was empty. “Ling Ping!”

Wei Wuxian looked down the line, but Ling Ping wasn’t amid the survivors. Heart sinking, he sighed and slumped in place. He didn’t make it… and amid sudden cries of grief and confusion across the plinths, he closed his eyes and offered a moment of silence for a man he’d considered a friend, but had never seen. Then his sadness became righteous anger. He didn’t deserve to suffer. Someone needs to pay for Ling Ping’s death… for everything that happened to us. How to avenge them though, without endangering the Lans?

Vengeance beckoned with open arms, but Wei Wuxian’s rage burned out almost immediately, because he was too weak to actually do anything. The few surviving men from the Zuihou group were much the same. They were collapsed on the ground and none could stand. Most suffered infected wounds or were missing limbs. Their mistreatment was painfully obvious and most were likely to lose their lives.

Meanwhile, one of the lesser attendants threw a ceremonial robe overtop the fallen Wei Wuxian, keeping others from seeing his ruin. They did the same to the other Zuihou, successfully hiding the severity of their wounds from critical eyes. Among them, Wei Wuxian was in the best shape, but they still didn’t allow him to stay and rejoin the Lans.

Wei Wuxian quickly realized why.

It’s in the imperial’s best interest that my condition isn’t made common knowledge. After all, they will need to organize another nightmare scenario when the appointed time comes again, to keep the demons happy and out of mortal affairs.

There were questions that the imperials didn’t want to answer. Things would be much harder for them if word got out… and questions were already being asked. There was a shocked roar from the onlookers below. The various sects, clans, family members, and party members couldn’t see the platform so well from their lower position — intentionally so — but it wasn’t hard to understand what it meant that only a handful of men had returned from the reenactment. The questions were coming hard and fast.

Who had survived?

Why in the name of heaven had so many men lost their lives?

The imperial announcer was shouting congratulations, as apparently this was the best reenactment yet! He assured that everyone involved and their families could expect honors and gifts and plenty of compensation — all of which caused such an uproar that Wei Wuxian covered his ears with his hands to spare them. There was no doubt in his mind that threats would follow for those who didn’t shut their mouths and accept the gifts in the spirit of ‘shut the hell up or else.’

Despite their feigned confidence and presumed superiority, the imperials seemed taken aback. The last ceremony had been before any of them were born, and they were clearly surprised by the sheer ruin they were presented with. The head attendant reacted quickly, though. He gestured furiously at the lesser attendants. Thanks to their efforts, Lan Wangji was never able to join Wei Wuxian. Nor even to see what had become of him, because the imperials had already leapt into action.

The Zuìchū group, including Lan Wangji, were guided to the side of the pavilion where food and medical attention awaited. They were all in decent enough shape to return immediately to their friends, families, and clans.

The Zuihou group were a different story. The imperials swiftly separated and rushed Wei Wuxian and the other wounded men deeper into the building. It happened so fast that Wei Wuxian was too far away to call out to Lan Wangji before he even realized what was happening. Then the attendants were pawing at him, trying to get him to stand for the doctors, which he couldn’t do. He struggled to avoid them, not wanting to be touched. He even slapped at them, not bothering to be polite. They didn’t deserve politeness.

“Lan Zhan!” shouted Wei Wuxian, thoroughly nettled. The wracked sound of his voice startled him into momentary silence. He slapped another hand away and then shouted, “Lan Zhan!” because the only hands he wanted were those of his husband, but the attendants were being difficult.

“Stay quiet,” ordered the imperial attendant assigned to carry him. “Stop squirming!”

Imperial guards were summoned and drew their swords threateningly. Wei Wuxian laughed to see such strong men be so insecure as to threaten someone who couldn’t even walk. Then he bared his teeth and threatened them right back. Fortunately the imperial attendants broke first; they gave him some space and fetched a stretcher instead. After that, an exhausted Wei Wuxian suffered to be carried upon, though only because he was too weak to protest further.

Summoning zombie concubines from the nearby graves — as satisfying as harnessing their deep resentment would be — was an escalation that would end with an imperial army marching upon Cloud Recesses. That was not something Wei Wuxian was willing to commit to, not when his precious cabbage and new family would pay the price.

Momentarily victorious, the imperials spirited Wei Wuxian away to a medical wing for some dubious medical attention.

-o-o-o-

It was two days of medical seclusion before Wei Wuxian was capable of standing upright again without fear of fainting.

During that time, the Lans attempted to visit and were rebuffed, even at sword-point. This was likely because the imperials discovered that Wei Wuxian was the most cognisant of the survivors. They knew he remembered his time spent as a demonic plaything. They needed time to make sure he understood the severity of his situation — or more sanguinely, if he was to succumb to his injuries, he needed to be given enough time to conveniently die before sharing any details with family or friends. The doctors knew better then to disobey orders. They refused to allow any visitors, using their honored profession and positions as a shield to keep family members at bay.

Wei Wuxian was sure he’d heard the Lans throwing the loudest protest they were capable of — to no avail. They were deep in the dragon’s den and their options were limited. The best thing they could do for Wei Wuxian was to not cause him any trouble. And Wei Wuxian was rather certain he was in some trouble… as was every other man that had survived and still remembered.

The other men from the Zuihou group were settled in beds along the same wall. Teng Ju stared up at the ceiling and never spoke. Not even his wife was allowed to visit him, regardless that she threw herself against the outer doors and wailed for hours.

Teng Ju could hear her, though. His lips thinned and it seemed to Wei Wuxian that he was determined to live, for her sake. And perhaps, to spite Emperor Xuanzheng. After the first day, Teng Ju was visited by the head attendant and scores of advisors, a meeting Wei Wuxian was not privy to. Whatever Teng Ju said or agreed to, apparently it worked. He was granted a measure of grace and left the medical wing for his own mansion and personal doctors shortly thereafter.

Wei Wuxian, however, was not offered release. Finally, the morning of the second day, he received a visitor beyond the nervous doctors and the dangerous attendants with their questionable intentions. Adorned in a scholar’s robes and hat, the visitor introduced himself as Lai Yazhu and then knelt before the medical pallet where Wei Wuxian was laying.

“Can you read?”

“I can,” said Wei Wuxian, behind clenched teeth.

“I have something for you,” said Lai Yazhu, offering a weathered book with ancient bindings. “Please read this before deciding upon any course of action. You must understand the greater danger that faces us all, including yourself and your loved ones.”

Lai Yazhu provided him the courtesy of leaving for an hour as Wei Wuxian investigated the book. Immediately he took the account within seriously after recognizing the mad sketches inside the cover; they matched his perceptions of what he’d seen when he’d lit the pile of bones in the sanctuary.

Demons… true demons.

The account contained within was beyond belief. Some of it he simply couldn’t trust; like the breathless descriptions of the world that used to be: massive global communities comprised of billions of people, rich in countries and cultures, some as great as China and a few even greater. It was hard to believe that people once could fly in great metal birds over the sea to visit other lands, and experience their huge empires — both friend and enemy.

The first time the demons arrived, they’d destroyed the world, with only cultivators surviving the first incursion. Anyone without a golden core that looked directly upon the demons would suffer a particular sort of violent, suicidal madness; people would violently kill themselves and sometimes others within moments of seeing a demon. Those that were already suffering from madness were spared the urge to commit suicide, but then dedicated themselves to sacrificing innocents to the demons in a cult-like manner.

The common reaction of mundanes resulted in mass suicide within a matter of weeks, while cultivators faired a little better — depending on the strength of their cores. This was part of the reason so many people in China were now capable of cultivation; their current population was descended from those surviving cultivators.

After the First Incursion, society was never the same. China had come closest to recovery, until the Second Incursion, which was the death of the second industrial age. The re-emergence of the demons plunged society back into the dark ages, nearly ending humanity for good. The aftermath had been horrific, with people intentionally blinding themselves and their children, desperate to keep from seeing the demons, who otherwise didn’t directly interact with people. The demons seemed to prefer watching humans brutalize themselves and each other. The last few waves had brought humanity to the brink of extinction, such that recovery was becoming increasingly unlikely.

Wei Wuxian reached the part where a stark raving madman announced that he was the spokesperson for the demons, helping to broker an agreement that allowed the demons to feast on the suffering of mankind, without causing their extinction. Then Wei Wuxian couldn’t read anymore. He sat the book aside and rubbed at his temples. It was painful to contemplate that what he’d just suffered was probably the best that humanity could do to stave off extinction.

Finally Lai Yazhu returned, kneeling before Wei Wuxian’s bed. He didn’t apologize, or offer platitudes. He merely gestured at the book, at the frightful sketches.

“Did you see them?”

Wei Wuxian didn’t answer, but his skin went several shades paler. The truth was that he’d been seeing glimpses of their sort of evil throughout his previous life, in the form of evil choices inflicted in their unknowable names. Never to such a degree, but he’d seem them leering at him from the abyss in the eyes of some men. This was likely what the book meant when it said the previously insane — or those at the edge of insanity — were somewhat protected from the demonic effect. This was probably why he’d weathered the sight of them as well as he did. If the book was correct, then his nascent seed core had protected him to a degree, but the memory still chilled him to the bone. He could have easily succumbed and died, and surely would have, but for the loving warmth of his husband’s body, comforting him in the darkness.

Lai Yazhu interpreted his chilled expression correctly and continued; “Then you know the horror that even a glimpse of them can cause.”

Wei Wuxian scowled, tucking his chin.

“They used to come here, in waves,” said Lai Yazhu, in case Wei Wuxian hadn’t read or understood what the book contained. “If we fail to uphold our side of the agreement, they will come again. We cannot keep them out.”

Wei Wuxian interrupted him. “But what if we could?” he asked, determined that there should be some other way then sacrifices. “There has to be a better way then succumbing to their evil and feeding people to them.”

“Your cultivation path is unique. If you have suggestions, we will listen,” and Lai Yazhu hesitated. “There are ways to join us in searching for better ways, for a permanent solution, but that will never happen if you and your family are destroyed by the emperor for insolence.” Then he provided contact information and left.

Wei Wuxian remained in bed, lost in thought.

Direct action seemed impossible, and perhaps should be left to those who had lost family members — who had stronger claims on vengeance. Those who were willing to sacrifice themselves in the name of revenge. The bottom line was that he and Lan Wangji had survived and could return home.

I want to do something, but at what cost?

-o-o-o-

After the first day, Wei Wuxian refused to eat the food or medicinal teas the imperial doctors tried to feed him. Their generosity felt perilous. It would be convenient for them if I were to perish of my injuries, he reminded himself.

Suspicious, Wei Wuxian struggled against them at every turn. The medical staff would touch a bowl to his lips and then retreat immediately when he turned his head away. He believed they were content that he languished, because after the first few attempts they never insisted he eat or drink whatever they brought. Sometimes he heard them whispering at the foot of his bed. It wasn’t that he intended to oblige them, but he couldn’t take the risk.

Instead, Wei Wuxian would wait until the tea-wielding doctors and scowling imperial attendants with their silly hats left and then crawled out of bed. The kitchen was nearby. He could smell food and so that was where he headed, creeping and then resting every few feet. Inside the kitchen was a pot of simmering chicken-stock soup. It was the only foodstuff within reach and he devoured bowl after bowl.

Once satisfied, Wei Wuxian would crawl back, piss in the bed pan, then lay down. He would sleep for an hour or so until his bladder refilled, or when the next doctor came to check on him. Afterwards, he would crawl back out and get more soup.

There was a really good chance that the doctors knew. If they didn’t, then they were negligent nincompoops. If they did, then they were fellow conspirators to allow him such free access to so much broth. Near the end, as he grew strong enough to stand upright for short periods, he was starting to suspect the latter was the case. Especially as several times he saw them duck back to hide when he creeped out, facilitated his raiding expeditions.

If so, the doctors were taking some risk on his behalf, because Wei Wuxian was forbidden from leaving his bed by the imperials. And he was right to be worried about threats, which came in the form of visiting imperial attendants. These threats he wisely succumbed to. While he was bed-ridden, anything they told him, he pretended to agree with. Any questions they asked, he always answered “I don’t remember” or “I don’t know” in the manner of the head-shaker, until they seemed satisfied he understood what was expected of him.

It hurt on a deeply visceral level.

Wei Wuxian would rather threaten them back, but suffered their threats for the sake of the Lan Clan, his new family. Especially for Lan Wangji and for the little Lans… because he simply had to. Armies were power. Emperor Xuanzheng had the largest armies on the planet and no one person or clan could ever take down the Heavenly Emperor.

And so Wei Wuxian watched and listened from the shadowed confines of the medical wing. He gathered his strength and guarded against foul play. He’d been given a mouthful of meat by Lan Wangji hours before their return. The countless bowls of meaty broth thereafter helped him bank some strength. He relied on that while he watched the remaining Zuihou slowly succumb to their injuries, until only he was left. Still the imperials refused to let him leave, citing his churlishness and refusal of medical care.

On the evening of the second day, Wei Wuxian snuck out regardless.

After leaving his bed and raiding the kitchen broth stock until his belly was practically distended, Wei Wuxian headed towards an outer wall. His current situation was less than ideal. He was wreathed in an unflattering gray medical robe and his feet were bare. His body was still dirty from captivity, though that was his own fault. He’d refused to let anyone touch him beyond the most basic of wound wrapping.

Fuck them.

When an attendant surprised Wei Wuxian from around a corner, he snapped his fingers and froze the man in place, leaving him there. It was a simple trick that only worked on mundanes, but fortunately the attendant had no golden core and couldn’t resist.

Then Wei Wuxian laboriously climbed over the wall, landing on his feet on the other side. A lovely sight greeted him there; on his right was a curated forest where the princes rode their horses down immaculate trails, and on his left was a cobblestone lane that led to an open air market where garishly-decorated stalls full of trinkets and delicious food were sure to be found.

Sprightly painted lanterns and kites fluttered in the evening breeze, soon to be set alight for the evening. Wei Wuxian basked in the bright light and beautiful colors; the heady scents of woodlands and cut flowers and baked goods.

Wei Wuxian headed that direction, nearly overwrought with happiness. The sights and sounds were overwhelming after suffering sensory deprivation for so long. He wasn’t in a hurry and so took his time. He could afford to be kind to himself.

His bare feet sunk into the good, healthy loam. Grass tickled his bare feet and toes. Step after step, he left the imperial medical wing and the overbearing imperials behind. The further he went, the happier he became. The setting sun warmed his skin and encouraged him to hobble faster. After a few minutes effort, he paused beneath a huge tree, resting there for a moment. Then he continued on, until reaching the edge of the market. It was then that practical concerns intruded on his happy daze.

Starving people should not gorge themselves silly.

Having suffered starvation in the past, Wei Wuxian knew better then to indulge himself on real food, especially to excess. That led to confusion and fatigue, followed by stomach upset and vomiting; possibly leading to sudden death if the balances of the body were disrupted too much. He knew he needed to take things slow.

Alas, Wei Wuxian’s fancy clothing and money purse was safe with the Lans, which left him penniless. More fortunately, his belly was still full from the wholesome broth and so he contented himself to stay at a distance, focusing on the trinkets and toys, which brightened his mood to near euphoric levels.

It was interesting to see how differently people reacted when he was gaunt and penniless. He had been here previously, before the banquet. People had been a little standoffish then. They seemed much friendlier now, though perhaps because they recognized his medical robes and guessed why he might be wearing them.

“Come and sample my wares,” called a sprightly older man, who offered Wei Wuxian a steamed bun. The man couldn’t understand why Wei Wuxian kept pretending his steamed bun was getting away from him and then laughing noisily.

The stall owner’s wife took note of Wei Wuxian’s medical robes, taking care not to linger on the scandalously bare ankles up to the mid-calf, because his bed robes weren’t meant for street wandering.

“Are you one of the men who performed for the war god?” she asked, leaning closer. When he reluctantly nodded, she burst into a toothless smile and bustled over to another shopkeeper, pointing Wei Wuxian out to her friends.

The word spread down the lane. Wei Wuxian found himself deluged with cheers, flowers, and trinkets. Everywhere he went people greeted him with honest adulation. They all believed he and the other men had pleased a dangerous god-entity, ensuring peace and prosperity for years to come. They weren’t wrong. He didn’t bother to correct the details, but basked in their adulation instead.  

Smiling brightly, Wei Wuxian enjoyed being a hero in their eyes. Especially when he had his pick of food from the stalls, though he knew better to indulge too much. He did accept a bowl of watery noodles and heartily enjoyed that, though refilling his belly to overflowing made him sleepy. He smiled at the well-wishers and paused to lean against a wall, blinking slowly and wavering on his feet.

He truly was that pitiful. 

“Sir, have some tea,” called a kind tea-shop woman, who saw that he was floundering. She offered him a steaming cup of her best and stepped back.

Beaming, Wei Wuxian thanked her joyfully, surprising her with his good manners. Between sips of piping-hot tea, he considered his situation. It crossed his mind that it would be nice to fatten up a bit and maybe wait until his deepest bites healed before reuniting with the Lans, to further spare Lan Wangji any dismay. It would take a week at least for his latest love bites to reasonably fade, but he knew in his heart that would be impossible. There was no way they could stay apart for that long. No, that was a storm he would weather sooner rather than later.

Maybe we can sleep in separate beds for a week?

Just a week?

Wei Wuxian imagined suggesting that, then found himself arguing against his own arguments, ending the thought train by shaking his head with a stern expression, confusing onlookers. No, that wasn’t going to happen either.

Or maybe I could head out early without telling anyone, and they could catch up to me? I could write a letter...

Meh.

Wei Wuxian was enjoying his tea and wondering how he might slip past the imperial guards to reunite with the Lans that very night, while simultaneously not being seen in such a bad state — would a disguise be feasible or probable or even sane to consider? — when a familiar voice brightened his evening and cast all his nebulous plans into disarray.

“Senior Wei!”

Wei Wuxian winced as any chance of not being noticed promptly crashed and burned like a kite set ablaze. Then he turned to face the juniors with a bright smile. He didn’t want to see anyone until he looked a little less like something that should have been buried a week ago, but there they were. Their shocked faces were a prelude to some upcoming marital unhappiness, suggesting the storm he needed to weather was already looming.

Perhaps for the best.

Tossing his proverbial burnt kite to the winds, Wei Wuxian greeted them merrily and then nearly collapsed on his beloved Lan Sizhui, while Lan Jingyi had a minor meltdown over how thin he was.

Wei Wuxian just laughed.

The juniors deluged him with questions, none of which he answered, because his tea would get cold otherwise. He allowed them to guide him to a barrel to sit down, his eyes twinkling as they fussed and fretted over him, even offering to fetch him anything he wanted to eat. “I’ve been doing nothing but eating this whole time,” he comforted them, merrily and rather loudly.

The marketfolk around him laughed and cheered. 

Moments later Wei Wuxian and the juniors were joined by Lan Xichen, who was also wandering the market and drawn in by the infectious sound of Wei Wuxian laughing at the little Lans. Immediately Wei Wuxian stood up from the barrel and then crashed back down, landing on his sensitive bits with a pained expression. Face blank, he pretended he’d done so on purpose, even respectfully so, drawing concerned looks from all the Lans.

Wei Wuxian tried again to stand, successfully this time, while ignoring their expressions with maniac serenity. “It’s so good to see you!”

That was an understatement. Wei Wuxian was so happy to see Lan Xichen again that he lost all sense of propriety. Staggering a few steps, he nearly hugged the man. This would have been rather scandalous — almost as much as his medical robes and bare calves — as public displays of affection were strongly frowned upon. This was especially true for clan leaders, who were held to the highest standards. Thankfully Wei Wuxian managed to remember and restrain himself in time, but it was a visible struggle.

“How have you been?” asked Wei Wuxian, with all the intensity of someone having been parted from a family member for many months. He forgot that from Lan Xichen’s perspective, it had only been two days.

“I am well,” assured Lan Xichen, regardless.

There was no outward reaction, but Lan Xichen stepped closer. He gently took hold of Wei Wuxian’s forearm, as if confirming something for himself. “You’ve lost weight,” he murmured with a clouded expression. It was likely he was thinking of his brother’s inevitable reaction to his spouse’s pitiful condition.

Wei Wuxian laughed nervously, unsure what to say.

Then Lan Xichen guided Wei Wuxian towards a table outside of a shop that offered food and seated him there, insistently so. There was a hint of command in his voice and gestures, because he had no intention of letting such a naturally squirrelly man wander off.

Instead, Lan Xichen seated himself directly across from Wei Wuxian in the manner of someone expecting to stay for a time. Then he suggested the juniors go order some food and tea, casually so, such that Wei Wuxian didn’t notice when one of the juniors ducked away at Lan Xichen’s subtle nod.

“Lan Zhan, he’s resting, he’s alright?” asked Wei Wuxian, squirming in his seat on the long bench, which was harsh against his backside. He was sure Lan Xichen should have more details about Lan Wangji, whom he hadn’t seen for days.

Lan Xichen inclined his head, but his eyes were troubled. “Wangji was returned to us moments after leaving, but has also lost some weight. His throat is... sore. He wasn’t allowed to visit you and doesn’t remember why you needed a doctor so badly. He is quite upset over the matter.”

Wei Wuxian groaned and rubbed at his neck in empathy, knowing just how bad the bruising must have been. My poor cabbage, he thought, with a sad expression that was easily readable upon his expressive face. Getting choked near to death is no joke.

“Wei Ying,” asked Lan Xichen, with utmost gentleness. “What happened to you?”

“Ehaha,” laughed Wei Wuxian, weakly so. “The imperials assure me I really don’t remember,” and he laughed again, adding “I don’t know, I really don’t know,” in a certain tone, but this time with an apologetically pointed look. Don’t ask questions that will get us in trouble in the dragon’s den, was what his look suggested.

“How do you not remember?” cried Lan Jingyi, who was dying of curiosity. “Why did the imperials tell you that?” He weathered a sharp look from Lan Sizhui, who made enough understanding noises to drown out any further protests from the peanut gallery.

Meanwhile, Lan Xichen took careful heed of the implications. Then the food arrived, providing a welcome distraction. There was a rush of white sleeves as the juniors and even Xichen tried to add food to Wei Wuxian’s empty plate all at the same time.

“Ah, I’m not supposed to eat so much, mostly just soup for now,” and Wei Wuxian winced when he realized his plate was already overflowing. There was no way he could eat so much. He was spared the dilemma by the sudden arrival of someone whose entrance was both sudden and dignified — windswept and yet poised — as if they had been keeping a chilly vigil outside of the medical wing only to spend the last few minutes racing across the whole of the city with a frantic junior Lan in tow.

“Wei Ying,” called a beloved voice.

Wei Wuxian knocked over his teacup in his haste to wriggle around, his smile brightening his face. “Lan Zhan!” and his vision narrowed, focused on the most wonderful person in the entire world.

Lan Wangji was back.

Lan Wangji was wearing his normal mourning clothes and white ribbon, swirling in the evening breeze. His hair was glossy and etched with gold from the last rays of the setting sun, with only a few strands out of place. He was a little thinner. There were fierce bruises on his throat that he couldn’t hide, but otherwise he remained quite the beautiful Hanguang-Jun.

In comparison, Wei Wuxian knew he must look like a shipwreck. Surely he wasn’t as cute and put together as he normally looked. Either that, or maybe his body condition was striking enough that Lan Wangji’s eyes widened, almost imperceptibly. 

Lan Xichen hurriedly reached across the table and grabbed at Wei Wuxian’s arm, intending to keep him seated. Xichen was clearly worried about his health, but missed the mark. Then Xichen bore witness to a full-body collision as Wei Wuxian threw himself at Lan Wangji, conventions against public displays of affection be damned. Lan Xichen’s serene smile blessed them all, even as Wei Wuxian tried to twirl Lan Wangji. Despite his best efforts, Wei Wuxian failed utterly to move his husband’s body whatsoever, even knocking himself off-balance for the attempt. 

Fortunately Lan Wangji was expecting such exuberance. He caught Wei Wuxian before he collapsed, but bristled when his fingers sank too deeply into Wei Wuxian’s drab medical robe. He was not happy to encounter so little flesh over too sharp bones. Instantly his calm expression narrowed into something much less composed, even as Lan Xichen fell back with a “good heavens” gesture, as if suffering the sight of an outburst of momentous proportions.

“Too light,” said Lan Wangji in the politest tones of sheer fucking outrage.

“Ah, Lan Zhan, it’s not my fault,” cried Wei Wuxian, tone-deaf with merriment. “Didn’t you say I was getting a little thick around the middle?”

Lan Wangji’s face remained an impassive display of complete hysteria. “No.”

“Well, it’s still not my fault.”

“I know.”

Wei Wuxian smiled brightly amid a heartfelt hug and then stumbled back. Lan Wangji’s arm never released him. Looking up into his husband’s face, Wei Wuxian’s bright smile finally faltered when he realised just how upset his husband really was.

“Whose fault?” asked Lan Wangji murderously, as calm as still water.

A memory of the joke of lists and would you kill them for me passed through Wei Wuxian’s mind as he really took in his husband’s mien, which to outsiders would seem completely blank-faced, but was nothing short of homicidal.

Thankfully Lan Xichen intervened. “Wangji, you must convince him to eat some food. He hasn’t touched his plate,” and he gestured to his brother-in-law’s abandoned plate with some concern. It was a good idea to direct such boiling rage in constructive directions and Wei Wuxian would have been appreciative of the suggestion, except he was already too full as things stood.

“I’ve had plenty!” cried Wei Wuxian, rounding a step towards Lan Xichen. “How could you disparage a good man like this?!”

Lan Xichen returned the joke with a kind smile for Wei Wuxian, and a sad look for Lan Wangji, who would manifestly not be engaging in any murderous sprees, but instead clean up the mess the imperials had left in their cruel wake.

“We were the fortunate ones,” warned Lan Xichen, ever so softly.

Lan Wangji looked away, towards the city center where so many families were mourning their losses. Then he helped Wei Wuxian settle down on the bench and took his place beside him, a hand resting against his back.

Wei Wuxian shook off the melancholy like a duck shakes off water. Then he enthusiastically pushed his over-full plate in front of Lan Wangji, insisting that he was thin, too. “We must share!” and he grabbed a pair of chopsticks. He put them straight back down when he couldn’t hold them steady.

Lan Wangji wrapped his arm fully around Wei Wuxian instead. “Go back to rest,” he suggested for them both, while supporting his husband’s meager weight. He didn’t like anything he was seeing or feeling.

Wei Wuxian protested with a burst of mad chortles. “But I just got here!” and then he grew serious for a moment. “I wasn’t actually released from the medical wing. I snuck over the wall to come visit the open market. The doctors are expecting me back.”

The other Lans watched with wide eyes, understanding the subtle signs that shit was about to hit the fan. Lan Wangji remained calm, however. He touched his own throat and then withdrew his fingers. Then he touched the top of Wei Wuxian’s robe, clearly intending to investigate what had become of his husband in their presumed absence. There was so much to see... but none of it was going to help Lan Wangji keep hold of his already frayed self-control. It had been a shitty few days for the both of them and the day wasn’t over yet.

“I had better get back,” said Wei Wuxian, pulling back from the table. He glanced back towards the stone wall in the distance. “Before the doctors realize I escaped.” It was a last grasp at avoidance of the upcoming confrontation. Already he’d forgotten his concerns regarding the doctors, as outside the walls of the medical complex, everything was normal again. Because if Lan Wangji was upset about some lost weight, how was he going to react when he saw the rest of him...

But Lan Wangji didn’t agree. He tore his eyes away from Wei Wuxian’s pale face to frown at the stone wall. He watched as Wei Wuxian stood up and said his goodbyes and then turned to totter back to the medical wing. Standing slowly, Lan Wangji turned to follow, one hand fisted and the other resting on Bichen’s hilt.

Lan Xichen watched them leave with a worried expression.

Together, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji walked back towards the wall, though Lan Wangji was openly frowning now. “Stay with me.”

“Should I dare defy the imperial doctors?”

Lan Wangji looked away, unsure.

“There’s a graveyard of dead ladies nearby. They have the prettiest graves and the fiercest grudges. The suppressed resentment is ridiculous — fierce ghosts, yaogui-merged corpses, grunge ghosts, just to name a few! If the imperials start anything, you can believe I will finish it,” boasted Wei Wuxian, even while knowing he would be doing no such thing.

Lan Wangji set his feet, mulishly so.

“Boost me up,” insisted Wei Wuxian with bright eyes.

Lan Wangji looked downright churlish, but tended towards obedience. Wei Wuxian balanced himself on the wall, his feet dangling down the other side. He wiggled as if uncomfortable again, then settled and re-captured Lan Wangji’s attention with his smile.

“If I don’t show up tomorrow night, then they really did chain me to my bed,” said a merry Wei Wuxian down to him. He meant it sincerely enough, but spoke with a laughing grin. He was downplaying the danger, as usual.

It was the last straw.

Lan Wangji shook his head and then after a harsh “mn,” he leapt up and reclaimed Wei Wuxian from the wall, from the clutches of the imperials. He’d heard too many hints from his husband that something was wrong — that he wasn’t being treated properly — to suffer another separation. He lifted a protesting Wei Wuxian instead, bridal style, and began walking back towards the city proper, towards the inn the Lans were sheltering within.

“Lan Er-gege!” cried Wei Wuxian.

“Mn.”

“They haven’t released me!”

“Mn.”

“What if they punish us for our audacity?”

“Bichen.”

“But gege, there’s so many.”

“Mn.”

Wei Wuxian couldn’t defeat such a well-constructed argument. He merely rested his head on his husband’s shoulder and let himself be carried. Ignoring all the passersby, he allowed himself to enjoy the moment before the beginning of what was sure to be a marital spat.

I have to explain some things, but I won’t tell him everything.

-o-o-o-

Wei Wuxian relaxed into the arms of his husband.

Even with his eyes closed, Wei Wuxian could still perceive the light cast behind his eyelids. The bright place suffused his senses. Night winds caressed them, the warm gusts stirring their robes and playing with their hair as they hurried down street after street. His mind wandered as Lan Wangji cradled him close. He barely noticed the long walk to the expensive inn where the Lans were staying, having paid for the use of their own floor.

Warm scents of incense and rich food teased at Wei Wuxian’s nose as Lan Wangji slipped inside, past the other guests who were finishing meals or chatting. Wei Wuxian wasn’t hungry in the slightest, but his body was ravenous. Sluggishly it tried to encourage interest, but his eyes remained half-closed and his body stayed loose and unmoving.

Then Lan Wangji carried him through the door of their private room and set him on the bed. Wei Wuxian sank into the thin mattress and his dirty hair slipped down and gathered over his shoulders. The dirt of captivity remained ground in his skin and beneath his fingernails, but his smile remained, undiminished.

Lan Wangji’s hands remained supportive as he knelt before Wei Wuxian. Pale eyes looked deep into his eyes, bright with worry.

“Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” said Wei Wuxian, and then regretted the denial. Those words meant something between them, something that wasn’t necessarily good. He laughed then, clenching his fist weakly over the front of his robe.

Lan Wangji correctly interpreted Wei Wuxian’s nervous expression as evasion. This was unacceptable. He immediately began stripping the medical robe away. His hands were harsh on the coarse cloth, though endlessly gentle where his hands encountered Wei Wuxian’s skin... and then the robe slid away.

“Wait—”

Wei Wuxian suddenly realized he wasn’t ready for this moment. He wasn’t ready for this talk, but it seemed the time was now. He peeked up at Lan Wangji’s face and immediately wished he hadn’t. He wished he’d suffered in the imperial’s medical wing, because the last thing in the world he ever wanted to see was the heartbroken look on his husband’s face.

As usual, Wei Wuxian didn’t think the situation through and merely blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “You’re hurt too,” and he reached out and touched the edge of the bruising at Lan Wangji’s neck, which was already turning a healing shade of green and yellow at the edges, thanks to his strong cultivation. “It’s not just me.”

“What happened?” whispered Lan Wangji.

“I don’t remember,” said Wei Wuxian, in a pouty sort of way.

It wasn’t a good answer. Lan Wangji drew himself up suddenly and vanished out through the door without a word. The door slammed shut, but Wei Wuxian knew his husband too well to believe he’d just stormed out for upset.

Moments later, Wei Wuxian’s faith was vindicated when Lan Wangji returned with a barrel tub and cloths, along with a number of different useful things from the other Lans. The clan's medical pack was slung over his shoulder, ominously so, while a steaming teapot floated atop the cloths like sailboat upon a soft sea. Not a single possibility escaped his attentions; he even had extra blankets.

“Lan er-gege, don’t be mad,” and Wei Wuxian tried to soothe things over. “Come to bed with me — I missed you! We can worry about all this tomorrow,” and then he made the further mistake to allude that the doctors hadn’t bothered to clean him, so it couldn’t be too bad.

Lan Wangji glanced sharply in his direction.

Nothing further needed to be said. Wei Wuxian sighed in a well-earned defeat. Then he shivered in the warm air, seeing the blankets and knowing they would be useful. The extra padding would be needed for him to sleep comfortably anymore. Thinking to help, he dared place a single bare ankle upon the floor.

“Stay there,” warned Lan Wangji.

Laughing nervously, Wei Wuxian withdrew back to the safety of the bed. He plucked at the coarse robe pooled around his hips as Lan Wangji began preparing their evening, which looked far less fun than normal. As the moments passed though, he relaxed entirely, finding immense comfort in watching his husband’s calm, confident body. It had been six months since the last time they’d shared a peaceful evening together. Now, here they were, back together again, exactly as they had been before any of this started, promising a faster recovery than anything he could have hoped for. Eyes brightening, he curled over onto his side, mostly naked, while feasting his eyes upon his husband’s trimmer than normal body, like a man starving. There were no wasteful movements, not even during such mundane tasks as preparing a hot bath and organizing medical concoctions, bandages, and other needful things.

“What happened to us?” asked Lan Wangji, again.

The question was calmly asked, but Wei Wuxian could hear the edge. He rested his head onto his arms and sniffled, then shifted into his standard pout. “You don’t remember, so why should I have to? I thought I was the one with the bad memory?”

“You are angry with me.”

Wei Wuxian blinked, confused. “Wuh, what?”

“I truly don’t remember,” said Lan Wangji, with a hint of self-reproach.

Wei Wuxian looked at the ground, and then rubbed at the side of his nose. In truth, he was avoiding his husband’s gaze, because it was so hard to mask how relieved he was feeling. So much of what had happened could be cast aside and forgotten, which was his wont when things were too much to handle, too horrible to face. It was his burden to carry their hurts, and here he was, throwing the whole mess off his back, right into the ditch and leaving it behind.

“Wei Ying.”

“It’s not so important—”

“Then tell me,” and Lan Wangji cast him a side glance, the edge in his voice getting sharper.

“It’s really not—”

Lan Wangji whirled in place. “Wei Wuxian!”

That tone of voice was Lan Wangji reaching the end of his patience and Wei Wuxian broke for the anguish he heard there. Speaking in a rush, he gave the basic account as quickly and cleanly as possible:

“We were dumped in a dark cave as a sacrifice for demons. Everyone with your symbol went mad and tried to kill everyone else. There was nothing to eat so we starved, mostly. Everyone in my group was supposed to be killed, but some of us survived, but it was really hard. We hid together in a hole in the ground and avoided everyone. You protected us as best you could and even then we barely survived.”

Lan Wangji stared, shocked at the forthright answer. Then he crossed the room to kneel before Wei Wuxian once more. His fingers traced the deep bruises, the terrible bite marks. “That’s — not everything.”

“It’s the truth, the important parts that matter,” said Wei Wuxian, feeling faint. He smiled, regardless. “All that matters is that we escaped. Oh, and that the imperials lied to us. They sent us there intentionally. Everything is their fault.”

“Wei Ying—”

“Everything!” cried Wei Wuxian, with unusual wildness.

Distraught, Wei Wuxian tried to stand up to better make his point. He was unwilling to allow Lan Wangji to take any blame whatsoever for what happened. It was important to him that Lan Wangji understood that none of this was his fault. He wasn’t mad, he cast no blame; there was nothing but love between them. So much the better that he was the gatekeeper of forgiveness between them, such that he could unshackle their hearts and cast away the lock. Feeling this deep in his bones, he threw himself at his husband. But he moved so fiercely that he cast himself into another faint, crashing face-down into his husband’s chest.

It was the nicest faint Wei Wuxian had suffered yet.

Because when Wei Wuxian awoke later, he was chest deep in warm water. There were bubbles floating around his bare knees, floating up in the air and popping for the spiritual energy Lan Wangji had relinquished to boost his weak body. The bathwater smelled like roses and other nice things. Those scents were like pleasant afterthoughts, because his body was back to normal.

Wei Wuxian blinked sleepily.

Warm hands were massaging through his hair, rubbing over his scalp in soothing circles. He leaned back and sighed his pleasure. “You can take me to bed after, okay?” he murmured, pressing kisses into the arms that owned the hands that were making him feel so good.

“Okay, Lan Zhan?”

The silence went long, but the hands rubbing a soft cloth down his body remained gentle and loving. He knows I am keeping things from him, and Wei Wuxian sighed again. Too bad. Anyway, I handled things pretty well...

Wei Wuxian perked up a little, enjoying his husband’s fervent attentions. He made contented noises, much as he had in the darkness, while allowing himself to be situated with his head back. A warm, wet cloth stroked down his slim neck, cleaning one of the spots that had taken the most bites. His neck was a mess. As the bites were cleaned, one particularly deep mark began to bleed a little; drawing forth a pained sound from his husband.

“Lan Zhan?”

“You would tell me if I hurt you?”

“You would never hurt me,” assured Wei Wuxian, rubbing his cheek against the fleshy part of Lan Zhan’s palm. He knew it couldn’t have escaped his cabbage’s notice that the teeth marks were specific to one set of teeth.

“You would tell me?”

“Lan Zhan... would you ever hurt me?”

“Wei Ying.”

“Would you?”

“No. Never.”

“So stop asking questions with obvious answers,” demanded Wei Wuxian, merrily so. “You should kiss me instead. You should kiss me, because we are still here when so many aren't. What I mean by that is, you just kiss me right now!”

Lan Wangji made a soft noise of protest, because he was certain he’d done wrong, that he’d inflicted injury, but struggled to clarify the situation when the injured party refused to let him take responsibility.

“Lan Zhan!” cried Wei Wuxian, splashing in the water. “Am I still yours? Don’t you want to kiss me anymore?” and then he sniffled. He wasn’t above resorting to dirty tactics to get what he wanted, which was lots of warm, sweet kisses.

And as usual, Wei Wuxian got exactly what he wanted.

Lan Wangji’s affections ended there, however. He refused to allow Wei Wuxian to escalate things any further, which was just fine. Wei Wuxian had long since reached the limit of his endurance, even falling asleep near the end of the bath.

Wei Wuxian didn’t stir until later that night, after the topmost half of him had been tended, medicated, and wrapped in bandages. He only awoke when a warm hand gathered up his poor, bruised cock and began carefully applying ointment.

“Hhm?” asked Wei Wuxian, sleepily.

Lan Wangji continued his ministrations, murmuring a soft apology. He listened to Wei Wuxian’s sleepy murmured response, which amounted to nothing more than silly nonsense, and then tried again.

“Who hurt this?”

Wei Wuxian cracked open a single eye, made a soft “heh” noise, and then closed it again. His poor cock was still recovering from the occasional rough squeeze. The bruising was yellowing at the edges, halfway towards healing, so it was harder to make any accusations. It didn't even fatten up for the handling, having checked out for the week. There was no way anything resembling their normal 'every days' was going to happen for at least that long, if not longer. That knowledge didn't diminish his teasing and flirting one iota, though.

Lan Wangji had to realize that Wei Wuxian didn't want to talk about what happened, likely ever, but he did his best, regardless. “You said I went crazy.”

“Waaah,” cried Wei Wuxian, with his best “pity me” little boi voice, “you were so rough with me,” and then he opened his eyes and replaced Lan Wangji’s heartbroken expression with one of fettered outrage when he added in a merry tone, “you showed me what you’re really capable of in bed. So you have to do just as good next time!”

“Wei Ying,” demanded Lan Wangji, instantly nettled. He wasn’t willing to let this matter be swept under the rug and left there, a wrinkle in the fabric of their lives. The injuries were way beyond anything he would ever knowingly inflict. He didn’t bother to say it, because he didn’t speak words that didn’t need to be spoken; they both knew the hurts inflicted were too damned far, and way too much.

Lan Wangji would not forgive, nor forget. If someone else had done this, he’d have taken Bichen to their throats. If he was responsible, then he first needed to apologize and repent, followed by a damned good punishing, so that he would always remember the lesson. That was how the Lan Clan corrected wrongs — with blood and pain and weeks of contrite, honest suffering —alas that Wei Wuxian wasn’t interesting in Lan Wangji spilling any more blood on his behalf.

“I wanted it,” said Wei Wuxian, changing tactics, making whining noises instead. “You know how I like it.”

Lan Wangji nestled his husband's poor cock back on his belly, lovingly so. Then, with a chilled expression, he gently gathered up his balls and lifted them into his hand, tucking them up to see beneath. Wei Wuxian made a few pleased noises, as if to distract him, but there was no distracting from this task. Lan Wangji's frown deepened to find a bad bite on the sack itself, and further, to see the tender area before and around the little pink hole was a mass of harassed, annoyed skin.

“Who?” demanded Lan Wangji, glancing at Bichen.

Wei Wuxian followed his gaze and then frowned. Then he blinked and sat up, a little too fast, such that he crashed straight back down. “Where is Chenqing?” and suffered his husband’s angry huff for the conversation diversion, but spiritual weapons were serious business.

Lan Wangji stood up and fetched Chenqing. He handed the ghost flute back to its adoring owner, who promptly twirled the flute in nimble fingers, smiling widely. Lan Wangji returned to task, thumbing ointment over the wounds. He ignored the way Wei Ying spread his legs playfully, his pleasured noises. He would not be diverted.

“Wei Ying — who?”

Wei Wuxian sighed and set the ghost flute aside. Then his face grew serious, even remorseful. “Alright, I will tell you.”

Lan Wangji visibly braced himself, prepared to be upset. There was harshness behind his eyes too. This was the same expression he reserved for disciples who committed the most grievous of offenses; he was prepared to demand the harshest of punishments for himself. There was any number of rules he could be punished for, amounting to thousands of blows from the ritual plank. If he had his way, his body would be left in a state more bruised and battered then his husband.

Like hell the rule adverse and cabbage-loving Wei Wuxian was going to facilitate any of that.

“I will tell you,” said Wei Wuxian, with deathly seriousness, “if you promise not to be mad at me, or hold it against me.”

Lan Wangji drew himself up. “I promise,” he said, but after a moment’s hesitation. It was not that he was concerned about keeping his word — never that. What he was concerned about was the twinkle in Wei Wuxian’s eye, which suggested his husband was about to unleash some truly outrageous nonsense all over him.

And Lan Wangji was exactly right.

“Lan er-gege,” wailed Wei Wuxian, theatrically. “I tried really hard — but I couldn’t have your babies! I tried every single day—”

Lan Wangji closed his eyes... then shook his head. This confrontation was not happening tonight, that much was obvious. Silently he rose to his feet as Wei Wuxian continued to babble the most absurd, impossible things. Regardless, he listened attentively while stripping down and changing into his sleeping robes. He was still listening as he gathered a babbling Wei Wuxian and pulled him close, hugging him tightly for a moment. The last few days had been frighteningly silent and now he relished his husband's absurdity. The steady chatter gathered in his ears like the sweetest music as he lovingly wrapped Wei Wuxian’s battered body into a soft robe, then into a warm blanket, after making a nest of blankets on the bed for his comfort. Then he cuddled into bed with him, tucking them snug under the blankets, with his Wei Ying safe within his arms.

“—so you see, Lan Zhan, how difficult I actually have it, not having any sort of useful organs in there, besides the regular ones I am fond of! But really Lan Zhan, I think I should get some sort of recognition for my efforts, which I assure you were substantial, and if you are still upset—”

“Wei Ying — it’s time for sleep. We will talk about this tomorrow.”

“No, we won’t.”

“Yes, we will.”

Wei Wuxian just sighed and then snuggled closer with the happiest expression on his face. He didn’t even care. Sure they could talk about it, but he would never give up the truth.

Not ever.

I’ve already forgotten.

-o-o-o-

The next day was particularly difficult for everyone.

Lan Xichen managed to stare down the head attendant and so Wei Wuxian was not punished for leaving the medical wing without permission. However, the Lans and Wei Wuxian were expected to attend a feast thrown by the Emperor, in celebration of the successful ceremony.

There would be quite the lineup of delights: decadent food, miserable dancing concubines, bribery in the form of rich gifts, barely-concealed threats, and more gifts! It seemed the cover-up was well underway... and so many other clans had fallen to one or more of the imperial’s tactics, succumbing to threats or bribery, or a mixture of the two, as Lan Clan was currently experiencing. The choices were to accept gifts and succumb to veiled threats, or to face the wrath of the emperor, which would not end well for anyone.

A fuming Lan Wangji carried Wei Wuxian from the safety of their private room in the inn all the way back to the palace grounds, straight to a long table setup for the esteemed Lans, who had been given Wei Wuxian's clean version of what had happened that morning.

Now everyone was fuming.

Except for Wei Wuxian, who couldn’t keep a smile from his face. He alone remembered, and he alone perceived the beauty around him. He alone relished the taste of the inn's rich, meaty soup for breakfast, the warm extra layer of clothes Lan Wangji had wrapped him in, and especially the loving arms of his husband, who refused to put him down. His smile endured the walk to the long table — Lan Wangji insisted to carry him with the same fervor as feral Lan Zhan — and remained as Lan Wangji carefully situated him upon the ornate bench, tucking him close and warm. And Lan Wangji was right to insist, especially in this case, because the journey to the palace would have destroyed any progress the food and rest had provided for the otherwise merry Wei Wuxian.

At the same time, the Lans were protesting the treatment of their clan members in the most Lannish way possible; after being seated at their table, Lan Xichen had closed his eyes and appeared to be meditating. The gifts were also ignored. None of the Lans touched their tea, nor any of the courses of food that was brought before them. Lan Xichen was insisting on royal guarantees, in writing, that their members would never be called to serve in future ceremonies again. He did not go so far as to demand the ceremonies never be held again, not after understanding what they were holding at bay, but everyone was in silent agreement that there had to be a better way. It would not be the imperials that investigated such things, though. Clearly they were satisfied with the status quo, to the point that challenging them openly would only gather lethal reprisals.

Lan Xichen still pushed as far as he dared, with the other Lans steadfast behind him. And so the Lans refused to celebrate, insisting on fasting to make a point. Their peaceful protest was in full meditative swing, with Wei Wuxian assumed to be the exception. He would have attacked the table with gusto, except he realized what was happening just in time. He placed his chopsticks carefully next to his empty plate and leaned back into Lan Wangji’s supportive arm.

Regardless, several times Lan Wangji and the junior Lans assured Wei Wuxian he could eat as he liked. Surely the imperials owed him a meal... but as a matter of principle and pride, the nearly-emaciated Wuxian refused to touch the food.

It was difficult, but Wei Wuxian managed.

Plates of steaming food were served and ignored. The imperial servants stepped back, awkwardly so, to stand in their assigned places, waiting for requests that never came. The entire table was so quiet that a merry flock of songbirds landed amidst the plates and began helping themselves.

Lan Clan, being lovers of nature, did nothing to discourage them. Lan Xichen even smiled ever so faintly when a wild canary landed on his shoulder and struggled to down a chunk of something rare and expensive. The merry antics and singing of the birds drew forth many of Wei Wuxian’s brightest smiles, which did much to entertain the junior Lans, who forced themselves not to fidget as the hours passed.

For his part, Wei Wuxian barely lasted an hour before succumbing, unintentionally sinking into the warmth of his husband’s body as sleep overcame him. The stress of the moment had an impact, in the form of a bad dream.

“They are digging us out,” mumbled Wei Wuxian against Lan Wangji’s lapel, slurred with sleep. “They’re coming.”

The junior Lans startled. They glanced towards Wei Wuxian, but otherwise remained as if carved of marble. Their hands remained folded in their laps and just as quickly they closed their eyes again and returned to a meditating stillness.

“Hey, if they get in here — you snap my neck, okay?” cried Wei Wuxian, sounding frightened. In his dreaming mind, they were trapped in the nook by a massive group of ferals. He could hear the efforts of many digging hands. “There’s too many. I can’t move, Lan Zhan.”

Lan Sizhui made a distressed noise.

“It was that bad?” cried Lan Jingyi, earning himself a chastising glance from the other Lans, except for Lan Xichen, who was sharing an alarmed look with Lan Wangji, currently considering waking his husband up, regardless that he needed the rest.

“Hey, we go together, okay?” and Wei Wuxian shook his husband’s stiff body. “Don’t go away. I can’t — by myself. Gonna eat me. You help, okay? Snap my neck so we go together!”

The dreaming Wei Ying considered this a reasonable request, because there was no way they were going to survive and he didn’t want to be left behind. It made perfect sense; feral Lan Zhan was going to go down fighting since that was what feral Lan Zhan did — but Wei Ying was going to get dragged away and horrible things were going to happen. Then he was going to get eaten, probably. A snapped neck just made sense.

The Lans were really frowning now.

 Lan Wangji stroked Wei Wuxian’s thin back. “Wei Ying?”

“Wha?” mumbled Wei Wuxian, waking to find himself nestled into a very warm lap. He snuggled closer, regardless of propriety, surrounded by the still-protesting Lans seated before empty plates with closed eyes and tiny Lannish frowns, hinting at their great concern for his mental state.

“Hahaha,” laughed Wei Wuxian, rather weakly. Then he returned to his side of the bench. Lan Wangji’s arm followed after, aggressively so. Within moments he was tucked against Lan Wangji’s side. A few moments later, he was sleeping in Lan Wangji’s lap again, this time without the distressing dreams.

Wei Wuxian managed to sleep another hour, until he was awakened again by a small commotion, halfway through the feast. The Lans had a visitor to their table; someone who had been part of the doomed ceremony. He was allowed to approach after requesting an audience with Lan Xichen, and of course the Lans greeted him respectfully. Apparently they had met him previously, but it was his huge size that clued Wei Wuxian to his identity.  

This is Fèngfēng, realized Wei Wuxian.

It was hard not to greet Fèngfēng with his pet name, or make jokes at his expense, or even pretend not to recognize him. It was especially hard when Lan Wangji greeted him respectfully, with some familiarity — as if they had met before. Lan Wangji even offered him to join the Lans in their protest of the ceremony that had taken so many lives. For Lan Wangji, that was downright friendly.

“Who is this?” whispered Wei Wuxian, against Lan Wangji’s ear.

The answer was rather surprising. It turned out that Fèngfēng was the son of a very unpleasant shadow clan leader, who ran an equally unpleasant brotherhood of assassins. His true name was Tian Shui, and he was also a monk; having turned his back on his powerful father’s sadism to embrace an honorable existence as a rogue cultivator protecting the people.

Hearing Tian Shui speak, it seemed that he had plenty of opinions and lacked any fear in sharing them, such that he was badly estranged from his father’s opulent world. He had even spoken against the cruelty of Emperor Xuanzheng — especially his treatment of his poor concubines — and that had made him a target.

“You are the survivor from the Zuihou group?” asked Tian Shui of Wei Wuxian, with a kind expression. “I am sorry to see you suffered so terribly.”

Wei Wuxian laughed nervously. “I am feeling much better, actually!” That was only a little true, though. He felt Lan Wangji tighten his arms. Lan Wangji was helping support Wei Wuxian and ignored the scandalous glances the imperial attendants and other guests cast his way for the presumed public display of affection.

In truth, the support was badly needed.

“I was hoping you might remember what happened to us,” asked Tian Shui, respectfully so. “I am trying to... understand why so many have died. I need to know who is responsible for their deaths.”

It was a fair question, one that Wei Wuxian didn’t feel he could safely answer. “No, nothing,” and he shook his head.

The Lans glanced away, because they knew that wasn’t true. But they also knew why Wei Wuxian wasn’t willing to speak freely. The weight of the imperial’s overwhelming power bore down upon them. Their small protest today was as far as they dared to stand up to absolute power. The imperials could crush their sect with ease, leaving no trace of them behind. And seeing as they hadn’t lost anyone, there was no wisdom in provoking the dragon to strike... but not everyone was so lucky.

“I was told that you lost someone,” said Lan Xichen, with infinite gentleness. “I am sorry for your loss,” and he paused meaningfully before adding, “you must remember where we are. I would suggest that you reflect upon the ancient proverb of revenge.”

Tian Shui seemed reluctant to hear such sensible counsel. He was a well-educated man and knew exactly what Lan Xichen was trying to tell him. After closing his eyes, he recited the proverb in question.

“When you begin a journey of revenge, start by digging two graves: one for your enemy, and one for yourself. Be not afraid of going slowly, be afraid only of standing still. No, you cannot stop the birds of sorrow from flying over your head, but you can stop them from building nests in your hair.”

“Or drinking out of your cup,” mumbled Wei Wuxian, who was considering pocketing a rather pretty canary that had helped herself to some wine and was drunkenly rolling around in a pan of noodles.

Such pretty plumage!

“Consider the matter carefully before acting rashly,” suggested Lan Xichen, which was his stance with absolutely everything about their current predicament.

But it seemed Tian Shui was beyond such cautions. “I spoke with Teng Ju, who also survived. He remembers and told me what happened to Ling Ping. My... cultivation partner died in the darkness and I did nothing to save him. I may even be responsible for his death — it is something I cannot live with. He must be avenged.”

That caught Wei Wuxian’s attention. He shrank closer to Lan Wangji, considering Tian Shui’s unfortunate situation. The last time Teng Ju encountered Ling Ping would have been during the attack on the walled off cave. Ling Ping never mentioned Teng Ju during our conversations, and he would have mentioned the man otherwise. He loved to gossip.

Ling Ping’s death was a complete mystery to Wei Wuxian, who was never able to meet with him again after Lan Wangji had taken him captive. He remembered the last time he’d spoken with him. He knew Ling Ping was a low-level cultivator. He knew Ling Ping had a cultivation partner but they had never shared names, each protecting the other’s reputation. Duel cultivators didn’t have to be romantic partners, and Wei Wuxian had the distinct impression that Tian Shui’s love might not have been returned, or even known.

Even when asked directly, Wei Wuxian couldn’t speak to his experiences. He wouldn’t add anything that would deepen Tian Shui’s pain. He didn’t know how Ling Ping had met his end, or who among the ferals was responsible and said as much.

Tian Shui winced, but then caught Wei Wuxian’s eyes and held his gaze. “I understand why you intend to keep your silence, but will you please tell me what I might owe you?” and this was a roundabout way of asking if he’d done anything hurtful.

Lan Wangji bristled for the question.

“Nothing, I can’t remember anything,” said Wei Wuxian, deciding not to bring up the harassing and chasing and that time he’d attacked them in the dark. But considering Lan Wangji had strangled to death any number of men in the darkness, what was a non-lethal choke out between frenemies?

Tian Shu gestured for relief and then stood up. “I don’t expect to meet you again,” he said, glancing meaningfully back at the imperial palace in the distance. “I know where the road ahead leads.”

A few steps ahead of everyone on the topic of vengeance, Wei Wuxian instantly perked up and began reaching into his sleeves. His eyes took on a slightly reddish haze.

“Where is that?” asked Lan Xichen, sounding frustrated.

“I have asked my father for help,” said Tian Shu, with heavy-lidded eyes. It seemed the one big mistake the emperor had made when choosing his victims. Tian Shui’s assassin father was assumed to not care what happened to him. That had made Tian Shui an ideal target to silence, or at least punish. Apparently, that was not true.

“Father is coming to meet me,” said Tian Shui, with clenched fingers. “He will expect me to take my place again at his right hand — in return for vengeance.”

“Ah,” said Wei Wuxian, still digging in his sleeves. “You are planning to do what we cannot,” and his fingers trembled as he pulled out several expensive sheaths of paper. Keeping his head down, he discreetly pricked his finger and began scribbling with a feverish expression.

Lan Wangji hesitated. “You don’t have to give up the monastery. Surely Ling Ping would wish you to keep your principles.”

Tian Shui closed his eyes, pain etched upon his face. “If I do that, then I will never avenge him. He was everything to me.”

Wei Wuxian saw Lan Wangji glance his way, as if putting himself in Tian Shui’s place. What would he do if he’d lost his husband?

“Wait,” and Wei Wuxian handed Tian Shui a handful of papers. His blood was already dried and around the symbols, there came harsh whispers. “Take these with you. Unleash them when and if you get so far to breech the palace.”

Tian Shui frowned down at the slips of paper.

“There are a lot of angry ladies entombed within the palace grounds,” whispered Wei Wuxian, giving voice to the whispers that had haunted him since stepping foot within the palace grounds. “They would love to have the chance to avenge themselves.”

Tian Shui smiled then and bowed. “If it is within me to reach the emperor’s very door, then I will give them that chance.”

Wei Wuxian settled back into the warmth of his husband’s arms, satisfied. If Tian Shui was willing to take the inevitable fall for the sake of vengeance, than the Yiling Patriarch would help him in his fight... and a fight was coming.

As Tian Shui was leaving, the head attendant approached him, keeping him from reaching the arch that led outside the grounds and freedom. He spoke tersely, gesturing further into the building, where apparently he was being summoned. There were no prizes awarded for guessing what was to happen.

Wei Wuxian stiffened, wanting to help, but Lan Wangji’s hands would not loosen. “Watch,” he suggested, in a tone reserved for competent cultivators that should handle their own business.

Lan Clan weren’t strangers to matters of honor; of vengeance killing and bloodshed. Seated in tidy rows, their robes gleaming brilliantly in the sunlight, Lan Xichen, Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian, and all the juniors watched impassively as Tian Shui’s patience ended. Their eyes followed the arc of the sword, watched as the head attendant’s severed head went rolling down the steps. Expressions cold as mountain frost, the silent Lans watched as Tian Shui cut down the two guards that tried to apprehend him, then vanished through the arch.

Silence reigned for the space of a few breaths.

Then warning bells began to clang. 

“You should take Wei Wuxian away,” warned Lan Xichen, leaning close to his brother. “There is sure to be trouble tonight.”

“Xiong-zhang—”

“I have to stay and make certain our hands remain... clean.” Lan Xichen had Cloud Recesses to think of, but he wasn’t above facilitating others.

Tian Shui would be back and battles on the steps of the various imperial palaces would surely follow. Some imperials would die, but true justice seemed unlikely. The emperor was a hard target to take down, regardless that so many people would be better off without him. It wasn’t likely that Tian Shui could reach the head of the dragon, but there were other ways to resist. The greater demonic threat remained, for emperors came and went, but the darkness looming over the world was surely eternal. The hidden room in the Lan Clan’s library was sure to be updated with a truthful account.

Wei Wuxian intended to add Lai Yazhu’s contact information to the account and also investigate possibilities of keeping the demons at bay, using the ghost path. His cultivation method was new and there had to be a way, without sacrificing men to the monsters. What could be done, and what should be done, regarding the sacrifices would be a series of heavy conversations involving the wisest of the clan, and today would not be a day for true vengeance.

At least, not for the Lan Clan.

Not yet.

For Tian Shui, who was bereft, revenge had only just begun.

-o-o-o-

They flew away on Bichen.

Lan Wangji carried Wei Wuxian, who insisted on riding while clinging to Wangji's back, with his head tucked against his husband’s neck. It was a far more practiced hold then before. Lan Wangji noticed how deeply comfortable Wei Wuxian seemed with the little movements of his balance, suggesting they had done this to excess during a period of time that he couldn't remember. Several times Lan Wangji glanced back, but Wei Wuxian's soft chatter never offered any explanation, leaving him wondering.

The greenery was a blur beneath them, and it was to Lan Wangji’s credit that as upset as he was for Wei Wuxian’s terrible condition that the ride was as smooth as it was.

For his part, Wei Wuxian soon fell asleep, waking when they crossed the threshold of the next inn they would be staying at, until the rest of the Lans caught up with them. There were rumors of some sort of disturbance in the main capital.

Nothing for certain, not so far away from the imperial palace.

“I hope he uses the talismans,” murmured Wei Wuxian, later that night. He was nestled atop a warm mattress comprised of his husband’s body and deeply comfortable. “I hope they all get eaten by the dead palace ladies.” His belly was full of soup and so warm. His hair was clean and loose around his face and his body was snuggled deep in his husband’s arms, which was the perfect place to indulge in some nonsense.

“You know he tried to make us a threesome?”

“WHAT?!”

“Forget I said that.”

“No.”

Lan Wangji sat up in bed, prepared to 'turn this sword around' in the morning if his next question wasn't answered correctly. “Was it him?”

“Huh? Oh, no, it wasn't him. I was too quick for him.”

“Mn,” said Lan Wangji, disgruntled.

“He really wanted to move in with us, though. I think he even licked you a couple of times.”

“WHAT?!”

“Forget I said—”

-o-o-o-

A week later, after returning to Cloud Recesses along with the rest of the Lan Clan, things were only now returning to normal.

Lan Xichen had opened the topic with the other great clan members, warning them of the eventual danger.

Rumors and reports continued to trickle out regarding an uprising against the Heavenly Emperor. Details were sparse, but apparently a few of the emperor’s generals and armies had been taken unaware by a host of undead courtesan ladies, who had been resurrected by some shadow clan.

Nie Huaisang had suggested sending the Yiling Patriarch to investigate the rumors and perhaps quell whatever necromancer might be involved. Lan Xichen had made several noncommittal noises and that was where the matter was left to lie.

Alas, Wei Wuxian’s condition continued to be a Topic of Concern. Happily enough for everyone involved except for one person, Wei Wuxian was already over the whole thing. Now if only he could convince Lan Wangji to stop carrying him everywhere, and especially to stop apologizing for things that wasn’t his fault.

“Didn’t we agree that there wouldn’t be apologies between us?” cried Wei Wuxian from the comfort of their bed, his hair still unruly from sleep, his eyes glittering in the late morning sunshine. His shout was not unlike a battle cry. Such expressions of remorse were needless, and being carried around like an invalid expressly so. It was unnecessary, especially considering he barely fainted anymore... and anyway, the bites were almost healed.

That should be the end of the matter.

Why wasn’t that the end?

“They’re your bites,” assured Wei Wuxian, almost gleefully. He reached up and showed how the mostly healed — but still visible — bite mark on his arm matched Lan Wangji’s mouth beautifully. “My husband loves me.”

Lately Wei Wuxian had changed tactics, trying to gain the upper hand in their marital battle. So now, every time his husband tried to clean any of his bites that were already sealed up to show his endless remorse, Wei Wuxian had begun retaliating by showing them off like he would the love-marks on his neck, treating them like beloved trophies. This meant their morning bathing ritual had become fraught with heavy feelings.

“I know I am at fault,” said Lan Wangji, in a terrible tone of voice, though not directed at Wei Wuxian. He was busy emptying the tub of cooling water, while simultaneously dragging himself over the mental equivalent of broken glass. He was blaming himself and that wouldn’t do.

That wasn’t actually the issue, though. “I was dying,” cried Wei Wuxian, cowering pitifully in their bed. It was an act, clearly so, because his eyes were bright and merry. “You wouldn’t give me what I want — if I was dying?”

Lan Wangji was not mollified. “Excessive.”

“I wanted it!”

Lan Wangji’s sleeves snapped like they only did when he was really upset. “Excessive!”

“You can make it up to me,” suggested Wei Wuxian, in a certain tone of voice.

Lan Wangji braced himself, because he knew what was coming. He knew, but couldn’t not ask. “How?”

“More bites.”

Lan Wangji stormed out the door.

“My husband haaaaates me!” wailed Wei Wuxian, theatrically so.

Wei Wuxian rolled dramatically back and forth, pretend-wailing. Then he laughed himself silly. He was always laughing, lately. The world seemed so much brighter and happier. He appreciated it so much more.

Slowly Wei Wuxian slumped back under the blanket and laughed into his pillow. He knew his husband would come back shortly. He refused to take the matter seriously. They had survived and his wounds would finish healing and as soon as they were gone then Lan Wangji would calm down, because he had to. He’d had a taste of real domination and he wanted to get past the self-blame and back to their normal marital relations. Honestly, they were fortunate to have escaped without being maimed. He wouldn’t even have mentioned who was responsible for his wounds if the evidence wasn’t so blatant. He couldn’t find it in his heart to regret. It wasn’t his cabbage’s fault he didn’t remember how awful things had been. A few bites (lots of bites) everywhere was a small price to pay to make it out alive.

Shortly after, Wei Wuxian was proven right.

Lan Wangji returned with plenty of food from the kitchen. He bundled the basket into the Jingshi and began arranging the plates. He seemed much calmer, but still cast a warning eye in Wei Wuxian’s direction. “Stay there,” he said, intending to help his husband to the table when he was done. “I will carry you.”

“Have you noticed how pretty everything is?” asked Wei Wuxian, rolling around on the bed. He decided to let Lan Wangji carry him, because he was hungry and wanted food and not any arguments.

“Mn,” said Lan Wangji, setting out the plates of food.

Wei Wuxian peeked from under his blanket, hoping for something actually edible, but his hopes were dashed. Every single plate was standard, bland Gusu food. He could see the bittersweet soup bowls of roots and bark, the bland vegetable cabbage rolls and two bowls of plain rice. There wasn’t so much as a speck of spice anywhere.

Oh yes, this was Lan Wangji’s revenge for him not sharing what had happened. For not punishing his beautiful cabbage for the wounds he still carried on his body, that couldn’t heal fast enough.

I promised I wouldn’t complain for a year, and merrily did Wei Wuxian remind himself of this. Well, he wasn’t obligated, but he had been eating cockroaches for months. Gusu food was bad, but there was something to be said for having nutritious meals.

Wei Wuxian was still smiling, on the verge of laughter. It was nearly afternoon. The sun was bright in the windows and the breeze was heavy with dew. He made a show of pretending like he was going to stand up and fussed playfully when Lan Wangji crossed the room in a flash and gathered him up.

You still won’t let me walk around by myself and just like that Wei Wuxian was laughing again. He allowed himself to be gathered up and retaliated by kissing every inch of warm skin he could reach, and several that he couldn’t — for good measure. Oh heavens, how he loved having his real husband back!

“Life is good,” he assured his husband while settling down in front of the first true meal that wasn’t different variations of wholesome, medicinal soup. He sighed for happiness, practically rocking back and forth as the first bites stayed presently inert on his tongue and didn’t try to hide under it.

The flavors, while so subtle as to be almost non-existent, were to be savored regardless. Wei Wuxian rolled the bite of cabbage roll around his mouth, exploring his mouthful from every angle, using all of his senses to ferret out little hints of flavor that the Lan cook had somehow forgotten to boil out.

Ahhh, the joys of eating real food!

Lan Wangji was watching him with a hint of amazement. “It was that bad?” he murmured, because he couldn’t believe how much honest enjoyment he was seeing on Wei Wuxian’s face for the traditional foods of Lan Clan.

Wei Wuxian beamed at him. “What? The rice is really good today!”

“Mn.”

“I think I will love this food for at least... one year.”

“Mn.”

“You heard me!”

“Really?”

“I promise Lan Zhan, no complaints, not a single complaint for one whole year!”

“Mn.”

“Wait — wait! Where are the shredded carrots in the cabbage rolls!?”

“...”

“I can’t eat this! Even rabbits get carrots, how could they forget? Lan Zhan, who made these, I will have a talk with them—wait, where are you going? What’s in your hand? What’s this, Lan Zhan?!”

“...”

“Oh look — a raw carrot from the rabbit stash. See, didn’t I tell you I wasn’t going to complain? Ah, Lan Zhan, truly you think of everything — wonderful husband!”

“Mn.”

finis