After both brothers finished their tea, Wangji leaves Xichen's apartment with a warm contentment he has not felt in a while. His brother insisted he stayed over for the night – the loss of his core meant that he ought to rest – but Wangji gently refused. Sizhui is still with their uncle and Wangji would like to reassure him he is back. His irrational departure has left everyone worried.

Wei Ying is waiting for him outside his brother's apartment. He's leaning on a wall, arms folded and eyes closed. As soon as he hears Wangji approaching, he looks up and offers him a blinding smile.

“Everything alright?” he asks, stifling a yawn.

Wangji nods. Any sign of drowsiness leaves Wei Ying's face as he straightens up, clapping his hands together.

“Good. Jiang Cheng kicked me out his apartment.” Wei Ying waves a hand at the frown already tugging at Wangji's eyebrows. “I'm kidding, I'm kidding. It went better than I thought it would. He punched me, but that's Jiang Cheng for you.”

The only thing Wangji can do is sigh. He has always frowned at Jiang Cheng's treatment of Wei Ying but he knows not to meddle into affairs he need not meddle into. The brightness in Wei Ying's grey eyes tells him he does not need to worry about anything. If Wei Ying is happy, then that is all that matters.

“Let us go home,” Wangji says instead. Wei Ying eagerly nods.

Outside, the car park is silent. It is only past eight in the evening, yet the nearby streets are empty and abandoned. Wangji spots his car in the distance, exactly where he left it when he had rushed here to inform his brother that Wei Ying was missing.

He is still finding it difficult to process the events that have transpired ever since. Wei Ying's presence beside him is a complete miracle.

They enter the car with silence spanning between them. As Wangji starts the engine, he wonders where Wei Ying would like to go. He has said he wanted to go 'home', but that could mean several things. While the threat of Wen Ruohan's gang has passed, the thought of Wei Ying returning to his own apartment does not sit well with Wangji at all.

He studies Wei Ying from the corner of his eyes. What if he asks Wei Ying to live with him? He has already spent many nights staying over at Wangji's house. Sometimes, he remained for days, to the point where the line between dating and married life was beginning to blur. Wangji will admit he indulged in those.

“Won't you regret losing your core?” Wei Ying asks, out of nowhere.

Wangji frowns, forgetting the direction of his own thoughts. He grips the car wheel tighter, feeling no trace of the spiritual energy that used to tingle at his fingertips. It is cold, leaving empty pinpricks in his flesh.

“No,” he says nevertheless. Perhaps, if he had lost his core when cultivators were still prominent, then the loss would have unnerved him more. Now, he only feels... nothing.

“Really? But you've lived for so long with it.”

Wangji loosens his hold on the wheel. “It will be difficult to adjust, but I am relieved. My brother has also lost his core.” Wei Ying raises his eyebrows at this, but remains silent as Wangji continues to speak. “I did not know what to do... if I had to lose you and my brother.”

He trails off into silence. If Baoshan Sanren did not appear, would he have ended his own life? Or would he have forced himself to live on, losing everyone he cared about to time? Without Baoshan Sanren, Wangji would not have known how to bring Wei Ying back. He would be in this car, alone with only the span of eternity left for him.

Wei Ying reaches for his hand. Wangji meets his eyes and, instantly, his dark thoughts dissipate into nothing.

“I'm here,” Wei Ying tells him.

Wangji smiles. His heart radiates with a warmth that even his golden core could have never rivalled against.

After thousands of years, wondering if he will ever find him again, Wei Ying is here. After losing him for a second time and seeing a glimpse of a future he could not live through again, Wei Ying is here.

Wei Ying is here, and this time, Wangji will be able to join him. The loss of his golden core is nothing compared to this overwhelming relief.

“I already told you that I never wanted to come back. When I died at the siege, I was just so thankful it was all over,” Wei Ying says. He pats Wangji's hand and leans back, staring up at the sky through the car's window. His lips pull into a thin line, as if he is reliving memories from long ago. “So many people were trying to summon me back but I always ignored them. I knew they were only doing it to banish me again, in case I really did come back.”

Wei Ying sighs. “I never thought anyone actually wanted me to return.”

“I did,” Wangji says. His days of following the direction of trouble, in case it was a sign of Wei Ying's return, still feel like yesterday.

“Hanguang-Jun, I thought you hated me...”

“Never. I wished for you to be safe. And happy.”

Wei Ying averts his gaze away from the sky and smirks at him. “Well, it was difficult to understand that when we would always fight every time we met...”

Wangji looks down. He has always struggled to voice the truth of his emotions. Rather than tell Wei Ying he wanted him to be safe, Wangji drew his sword and tried to stop him. For many years, he regretted his actions. Moreover, he regretted his inability to voice his true feelings.

“But I know it must have been hard to reach me,” Wei Ying quickly says. “I wasn't acting myself back then. If I met the old me, I'd probably punch him now. I should have agreed to come back with you to Gusu. I wanted to... I was just too stubborn to admit it...”

Wei Ying stops as an elderly couple passes their car. Walking hand in hand, they hobble with their walking sticks, unaware of the two who watch them pass by. A tiny smile flutters on Wei Ying's lips.

“Lan Zhan, did you love me all this time?” he asks. “Even back then?”

“Yes,” Wangji answers without hesitation. The elderly couple disappears as they turn for a corner and the car park is once again empty.

Wei Ying sighs for second time. “I wasted all those years... I made you wait so long.”

“I have already told you that I do not regret—”

His words are cut short. Wei Ying pushes himself closer, pressing a hand on his chest. The warmth of his palm seeps through Wangji's shirt and he breathes in the scent of lotus blooms dancing around him.

“The brand you have on your chest... The marks on your back. It was all because of me,” Wei Ying says. Wangji can no longer deny it; he remains silent. “And that song you played for me on the piano... It was the same song you sang when we were in the Xuanwu's cave.”

A quiet chuckle comes out from Wei Ying. “I'm pretty sure that was what triggered my memories, you know. As soon as you played that song for me again, I started dreaming about you.”

“About me?”

Wei Ying nods. “I dreamt about my old memories. A lot of them were of you.”

Over the centuries, Wangji composed many songs and forgot about them, yet the song he created for Wei Ying always felt like second nature to him. His fingers glided through any instrument, playing the notes he hid his feelings behind for all these years. Sometimes, he closed his eyes and pretended Wei Ying was listening, just as he once did in that cave. He dreaded whenever the song finished and he would open his eyes, met by an empty audience and the realisation Wei Ying may never listen to his song again.

“I can't take away all those years you spent alone, but from now on, what you say to me, what you do for me, I’ll remember all of them—I won’t forget a single thing.” Wei Ying flashes him another blinding smile and it becomes harder to think, to focus on anything but Wei Ying. “Thank you for waiting for me, Lan Zhan.”

Wangji shakes his head. 'Thank you' always sounded wrong coming from Wei Ying, especially when Wangji knows the extent he would go through just to show others his gratitude. He is selfless, eager to sacrifice himself if it meant he will repay those who showed him kindness. Wangji does not want anything from Wei Ying. He only wants him to be happy.

“Between you and me, there is no need for 'thank you' and 'sorry',” he explains.

The smile on Wei Ying's lips does not falter. Instead, he closes the distance between them and brushes his lips against Wangji's. “Then what about... I love you.”

Wangji's heart stutters. Before he can recover, Wei Ying continues on.

“I love you, Lan Zhan. I love you, I want you, I can’t leave you, I whatever you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Every word leaves him more speechless than the last. It is as if his dreams have spilt onto reality and Wei Ying is saying the words he has longed to hear for so, so long. Wangji can only stare at him in shock.

Wei Ying runs his fingers through Wangji's hair, his lips so close that he can almost taste him. “And I want to sleep with you every day. I swear it’s not the heat of the moment or that I'm joking around. I’m not doing it out of gratitude either.”

All of a sudden, Wei Ying clambers onto his lap, uncaring for the cramped space around them. The sudden declaration of his feelings have frozen Wangji; he cannot even begin to care that this position may look compromising to anyone who chooses to walk past them now. He repeats everything Wei Ying has said. He loves him. He loves him.

“It’s not because of anything else. I don’t want anyone but you—it can’t be anyone but you.” Wei Ying cups his cheeks, trapping Wangji with his warm gaze. “You can do anything you want to me, however you like it. I’ll accept everything, as long as you’re willing to…”

Wangji can no longer contain himself. He crushes Wei Ying into his arms and buries his face against his shoulder, shaking at the intensity of these emotions flooding him. There is so much, too much for him to feel. Every sentence Wei Ying said has robbed him of the ability to think. This cannot be real. It would be too cruel to wake up now and realise this is all a dream.

He holds Wei Ying tighter, clinging onto him as if he will crumble into dust any moment. He has always loved Wei Ying. It has been so long that he can no longer remember when he began and why, but he knows he will always love Wei Ying regardless of what the future will bring. He didn't care if Wei Ying did not love him back. All he desired was to see him happy, safe.

Even after they began a relationship with each other, Wei Ying never told Wangji he loved him. He was content with this. He would not burden Wei Ying with his feelings if he was not yet ready.

This...

Wei Ying loves him. Wei Ying loves him.

It is impossible to stop the tears from leaving. He can only embrace Wei Ying, repeating again and again in his head that Wei Ying loves him, Wei Ying loves him.

Wei Ying loves him, and he is here, he is real. Wei Ying loves him, and he is alive. Wangji will age with him. His days of watching the world rot before him while he stays the same are over, and the only future that awaits are the days he will look forward to spending with Wei Ying.

Wei Ying loves him.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says in his ear. “Don't cry. I'm here. I'm not leaving you ever again.”

He pulls back and holds Wangji's face into his warm hands again. For a few seconds, Wangji can only stare into his grey eyes, the same grey eyes that used to glare at him whenever he asked Wei Ying to come back to Gusu. Now, they soften as Wei Ying wipes away the tears left on his cheeks.

“I love you, Lan Zhan. I was an idiot for not realising it sooner but I promise I'll spend the rest of my life loving you.” Wei Ying presses a kiss on Wangji's forehead. “And the next life.” Another kiss on his lips. “And the next.” And another kiss on the lips. “And the next! And the—hmf!”

Wangji grabs the back of Wei Ying's head and kisses him breathless. From then on, he focuses on Wei Ying's plump lips, the taste of his tongue, every sound that escapes him, and every tremor of his body. At first, Wangji relishes all there is to Wei Ying, committing this moment to memory. His taste is sweet, addicting—there is no description that comes close to it aside from the fact it is Wei Ying. It leaves him wanting more. Wangji plunders his mouth, pleased when he hears a satisfied moan leave the other man.

Wei Ying's fingers card through his scalp, gently pulling at his hair. The cramped space of this car leaves no room for movement, but the press of Wei Ying's body against his is more than welcome.

Wei Ying is the first to pull away. “Don't you have condoms and lube in your bag?”

Wangji blinks. He is thrown back to the present, where he is suddenly aware they are currently in his car, in the middle of a car park—in a public space.

He stiffens. “Now?”

 

- x -

 

It takes all of Wei Ying's mental strength not to laugh at Lan Zhan's reaction. He bites his lip, watching Lan Zhan's usually stoic face go from confused to scandalised in the space of a few seconds.

“Why not now? Life's too short to wait around.” Wei Ying winks and then leans in to whisper into Lan Zhan's ear. “Besides, I've always wanted to do it in a car.”

Almost immediately, the tips of Lan Zhan's ear turns bright red and Wei Ying can't stop the amused snort that escapes him.

“Wei Ying.”

How cute, Wei Ying thinks, ignoring him. Reaching over Lan Zhan's shoulder, he grabs the bag that's been left discarded on the back seat. He could have sworn he left some condoms and lube packets here last time they stocked up...Beneath him, he hears the faint, defeated sound of Lan Zhan sighing. Instead of stopping him, his long fingers graze over Wei Ying's hips, pushing up his shirt and drawing circles on his bare skin.

Smirking, Wei Ying grinds against him until he hears the quiet hitch of Lan Zhan's breath. He's always happy to rile Lan Zhan up, especially when it results in him getting wrecked afterwards. Unfortunately, their current destination doesn't exactly leave any room for space. The driving wheel is digging into Wei Ying's back and his left leg is starting to get a cramp from being squashed into the door—but that's okay. He'll endure all of this for Lan Zhan. He continues to grind against him, purposely moaning as loud as he can when he feels an unmistakable bulge pressing against his thigh.

Once he finds what he's looking for, Wei Ying sits back up, waving the small packets in front of Lan Zhan's face. The older man offers him a bemused expression, the corners of his lips tugging into one of his rare smiles.

“Lan Zhan... During all those years I wasn't alive, did you ever find someone else?” Wei Ying asks out of curiosity. He almost regrets opening his big mouth as soon as that smile on Lan Zhan's face disappears, replaced by a small frown.

“Never. It has always been you.”

“But... Are you saying that after our first date, that was the first time you ever slept with someone?”

Now, the frown disappears and Lan Zhan blinks off into space. His ears have gotten redder. “...Yes. Is that bad?”

“No! Of course not!” Wei Ying quickly says. “You were... good. You were really good. Did you practice for thousands of years or something?”

If Wei Ying remembers correctly, Lan Zhan didn't even touch his dick that time to make him come—and that was supposed to be his first time? What the hell?

Then again, it also made sense now why Lan Zhan had always been so... strong when it came to sex. Sometimes, it felt like Wei Ying's bones were on the verge of snapping—not that he was scared. Most of the time – if not all the time –Wei Ying encouraged Lan Zhan to be as rough as possible with him.

“And... you?”

Wei Ying grimaces. Now he really regrets opening his big mouth. “I won't lie to you. I slept with a lot of people back in my twenties. I got drunk almost every night and welcomed any distraction I could get.”

Lan Zhan says nothing. Did he already expect it?

“But I never felt anything for them. It was nothing more than sex,” Wei Ying says. “You're the first person I've ever had feelings for, and the only person I'll ever have feelings for.”

When Lan Zhan gives him another one of his rare smiles, Wei Ying knows the words he's said are one hundred percent true. He will never find another man he wants to be with other than Lan Zhan—and he doesn't want to. They've waited literally thousands of years to understand each other's feelings. Wei Ying will be damned if he wastes any more time after this.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying chants, nuzzling the pale column of his neck with his nose. “Lan Er-gege, is it okay if we do it here? I want you now... I missed you so much. I promise I'll be quiet...”

They both know that's a lie. 'Wei Ying' and 'quiet' shouldn't belong in the same sentence at all, especially if it's about sex.

Nevertheless, Lan Zhan groans. He tips up Wei Ying's chin with his finger and grazes his lips before deepening the kiss.

Wei Ying will take that as a yes to having sex in the car. He wriggles to make himself comfortable, purposely grinding against Lan Zhan and smirking as soon as he hears another groan coming from him. Eager, he parts his mouth open, moaning when Lan Zhan's tongue immediately finds his own.

He will never get tired of kissing Lan Zhan. Every time they kiss, Lan Zhan will start off gentle, like he's testing the waters and making sure Wei Ying is comfortable—but it won't be long until that changes. Sooner or later, their teeth bump together and they're gasping into each other's mouth. Wei Ying clings to Lan Zhan until there's no space between them, until this car is unbearably hot and Lan Zhan is the only thing his senses respond to.

Outside, a nearby lamp flickers on and off. Wei Ying hears nothing but the sound of their clothes rustling together. He buries his hands into Lan Zhan's hair and gasps as the bulge pressing into him hardens even more. No matter how many times they've had sex, being with Lan Zhan never fails to make him feel like he's a teenager having sex for the first time. It excites him, makes him giddy and eager to be fucked.

“That's it,” Wei Ying encourages. He lets Lan Zhan guide the kiss, shivering as he sucks his tongue back into his mouth. It's wet, messy, and there's already drool slivering down his chin. Wei Ying wouldn't ask for anything more. He happily moans louder, moving his hips so the hard tent in Lan Zhan's pants rubs against his ass.

In the back of his mind, he wonders if he would have felt like this if he returned to Gusu with Lan Zhan all those years ago. Would they have gotten closer? Would he have loved him too?

Lan Zhan's lips trail down his neck, nipping at the particular spot that always had Wei Ying's toes curling in pleasure. The questions in his head fade away. None of that matters now. What matters is that he's about to get laid.

They can't afford to take things slowly here, not when someone can walk past any moment now. Wei Ying resists the urge to tease Lan Zhan some more; there'll be plenty of opportunity to drive him mad some other time... For now, he wriggles his hips and impatiently tugs his pants and boxers down. He's already hard—

Without warning, Lan Zhan grasps him, stroking his dick. Being quiet instantly flies out of the window. He throws his head back as Lan Zhan pumps him, trailing kisses up his jaw before muffling his moans with another kiss. Wei Ying clings around his neck. If he carries on like this, he'll lose it far too soon. As much as it drives him mad, he shakes his head and lightly pushes at Lan Zhan's chest.

“No,” Wei Ying gasps. “Want you... inside.”

Lan Zhan visibly swallows. His eyes trail outside, quickly scanning their surroundings.

“Quickly,” he says.

Wei Ying smiles. He pushes back Lan Zhan's hair, nipping at his bottom lip. “Depends how fast you can make me come, Hanguang-Jun.”

As soon as those words leave him, something shifts in Lan Zhan's golden eyes. If Wei Ying didn't know any better, he could swear one of Lan Zhan's eyebrows raised just now—

“Mark your words,” Lan Zhan says, and then shuts him up with another kiss.

God. How is it possible for one man to excite him so much? Every nerve in Wei Ying's body responds to Lan Zhan's touch. He shudders as a pair of large hands grabs the curve of his ass. Lan Zhan doesn't stop bucking up into him, not even when Wei Ying begins to whine at how this isn't enough. His dick presses against his own stomach, leaking, and—god, he needs something inside him—

“Ah!” Wei Ying jostles, not expecting a cold finger to suddenly dip against his puckered entrance. He didn't even notice Lan Zhan opening the packet of lube at all. Before he can gather his thoughts, a slicked finger swiftly enters him, arching straight for his prostate.

Lan Zhan really took his words to heart. Wei Ying cries when the finger pulls out, then pushes back in to the same spot—again—then again—then again. Gripping onto Lan Zhan's shoulders, he closes his eyes and digs his ass down to meet him. Lan Zhan inserts another finger, digging them knuckle-deep until Wei Ying is a trembling mess.

“Now, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying begs. “Need you now.”

Lan Zhan pulls his fingers out, nodding. Wei Ying fumbles at the zip of his trousers, impatiently pulling them down as much as he can. The sight of Lan Zhan already fully hard inflates his ego. Wei Ying smirks, reaching down to quickly stroke the thick girth and watching the way Lan Zhan's pupils dilate. He presses a thumb on the leaking head, making sure Lan Zhan's eyes are on him when he licks it off his fingers.

A low growl grumbles in Lan Zhan's chest. Wei Ying throws his head back and laughs. He quickly lets go and rips open the nearest packet of condoms he can find. Teasing Lan Zhan will have to wait another time.

“I really should have gone back to Gusu sooner,” Wei Ying says, keeping his eyes on Lan Zhan as he slips the condom onto him. “To think I was missing out on all this...” To emphasise, Wei Ying slowly strokes him, spreading the lube all over his hard length, from base to tip. Lan Zhan's jaw clenches and his hands dig into Wei Ying's waist.

Grinning, Wei Ying guides Lan Zhan's dick up the cleft of his ass. He spares a few moments to rub against him, loving the obvious impatience on Lan Zhan's face. His jaw is clenched hard and his golden eyes pierce into Wei Ying. The intensity of his gaze is overwhelming.

“Fuck me,” Wei Ying says. “Hard and fast.”

Lan Zhan doesn't need to be told twice. He grips Wei Ying's hips tighter and pushes him down, breaching him in one, fluid thrust.

“Oh,” Wei Ying gasps. He's given no time to adjust. Lan Zhan begins to lift and drop him onto his cock as if he weighs nothing, each thrust so deep that Wei Ying feels it in his gut. “Lan Zhan—Lan Zhan! Ah, t-that's good! Yes!”

He closes his eyes and eagerly bounces on Lan Zhan's lap. His thrusts are shallow, but so, so deep. For the first few seconds, it hurts – they didn't spend as much time stretching him as they normally did – but Wei Ying grits his teeth and focuses on the feeling of being stretched full. He can't get enough of it. He holds onto Lan Zhan's shoulders and fucks himself onto his dick as fast as he can. The stinging ache slowly turns into a heat in his stomach that spreads, down to the tip of his toes, up to what's left of his mind. He thinks Lan Zhan—Lan Zhan—Lan Zhan.

It isn't long until the car is filled with the sounds of their combined moans. Through the haze, Wei Ying feels one of Lan Zhan's hands slip under his shirt, pinching his nipple between his fingers. When he opens his eyes, Lan Zhan is staring so intently at him that it actually makes him flush. Wei Ying licks his lips, the rhythm of his hips faltering for a second.

“Beautiful,” Lan Zhan praises.

A shaky breath of laughter escapes Wei Ying. For a brief second, his sex-addled thoughts give way to the consuming love he feels for this man. God, I love him so much.

Using Lan Zhan's shoulders for leverage, he continues to bounce on his lap. He pants for breath, desperate whines escaping him every time the thick cock slams into the spot that makes him see stars. It feels so good, so good—but it's not enough. Every time Wei Ying sinks back down onto Lan Zhan's dick, he wants more, he needs more. He wants to feel this in his bones for days, he wants Lan Zhan to fuck him until there's nothing left of his thoughts.

As if reading his mind, Lan Zhan crushes Wei Ying closer, trapping him in the tight grip of his arms. He's left no room to move at all now, only able to cling onto the back of the seat.

Lan Zhan thrusts up into him with a pace that knocks the breath out of Wei Ying's lips. His eyes widen, choking every time he's speared open. What the fuck? Didn't Lan Zhan lose his core? How is he still so strong?

This question dies on Wei Ying's tongue. The only sounds he can let out are garbled moans. Fuck, Lan Zhan's cock slamming into him again and again feels amazing. Wei Ying claws at the seat, his orgasm already nearing.

That's when he hears it. A car door slamming shut.

He gasps. Through the back window, he sees a person walking across the car park.

Shit.

Wei Ying bites his lip and swallows down a moan. Lan Zhan doesn't stop at all. If anything, his pace gets faster. He digs his fingers into Wei Ying's hips and fucks him harder, deeper. Through the window, Wei Ying sees the figure of the stranger, rooting through their bag, completely unaware that someone is right behind them getting fucked to oblivion.

“Lan Zhan, hurry,” Wei Ying gasps. With shaking hands, he reaches down between them to stroke his own dick. “Fuck. Fuck, I'm close.”

“Hm.” That's the only affirmation he gets. Lan Zhan replaces Wei Ying's hand, pumping him from base to tip. Throughout it all, Wei Ying's eyes are trained outside, as if staring at this goddamn stranger will make sure they won't turn around. Fuck. He feels filthy. He's enjoying this more than he expected to.

Fuck it. He doesn't care. This feels too good. The rush of almost being found out makes Wei Ying dizzy. Every thrust is aimed at his prostate, each one harder than the last. Wei Ying is addicted to the feeling of being pushed more and more to the edge. Every time, he thinks—this is it, he's going to come, he's going to come, and then Lan Zhan will slam back up and break his mind apart. He sobs for more. He's so close. He's going to break.

All it takes is one more thrust into his prostate and Wei Ying is spilling between them. At the last minute, he can no longer stop the broken gasps coming out from him as his orgasm shakes his entire being. He has to bite down at Lan Zhan's shoulder to muffle the rest of the moans. His eyes roll back and everything blurs. The person outside is now a distant memory. Beneath him, he hears Lan Zhan's husky breathing, growing more and more laboured as he fucks him through his orgasm. Wei Ying writhes and spasms above him, sobbing at the over-stimulation that's rendered him unable to think.

He knows it won't be long until Lan Zhan comes too. His thrusts are now clumsy, too shallow.

Lan Zhan drives deeps into him one last time, groaning as he finally comes. Outside, the unknown person has stopped rooting through their bag. They start to walk, still clueless. Wei Ying waits until they're a good distance away before he risks letting out a shuddering breath of relief.

Tired and drained, he slumps against Lan Zhan's chest. All Wei Ying can do is cling onto his boyfriend's shoulders, feeling his cock slowly soften inside him. Having sex in the car probably wasn't his best idea, but he'll be damned if he says it wasn't worth it.

“Are you sure you lost your core? You're just the same as ever.” Wei Ying says, still breathless. He pushes himself up, wincing at the immediate ache that stabs his legs. He's starting to get leg cramps from sitting like this for too long. “I'm going to feel this in the morning.”

Sighing, Lan Zhan shrugs off his jacket and uses it to get rid of the cum between them. It's a crude effort in cleaning up—but that's what you get for having sex out here instead of waiting to get home. Wei Ying rises, using the last remains of his strength to crawl back to his seat and zip up his pants. He watches in amusement as Lan Zhan peels off his condom, frowning at it before wrapping it in a wad of tissue to throw away later.

Once they're both dressed and properly clean (or as clean as they can get), Lan Zhan frowns at Wei Ying.

“You need to rest,” he says, as if the reason Wei Ying is so tired right now isn't because he's just fucked him or anything.

Wei Ying scoffs. “Yeah, I feel like I just came back from the dead.”

The frown on Lan Zhan's face turns into a cute glare. Wei Ying laughs, leaning in to quickly press a kiss on his lips. “You make me happy, Lan Zhan,” he says. He's unable to keep the grin off his face. “I didn't think I would ever feel like this; not in this life, or in my past life.”

As easily as that, Lan Zhan relaxes back into a smile that he only reserves for Wei Ying. He kisses him too, lingering on his lips. “I am the same.”

Wei Ying preens at the attention. Completely engrossed in each other, he wraps his arms around Lan Zhan's neck and peppers his face in kisses. “I can't wait to spend every day with you.”

Lan Zhan brushes his lips up his jaw, then pulls back to look into his eyes. “Live with me.”

Surprised, Wei Ying takes a moment to let that sink in. “As in move in with you in your house? Won't Sizhui mind?”

Lan Zhan shakes his head. “He will not.”

Move in with Lan Zhan... He wants nothing more than to spend every day with Lan Zhan, so, naturally, moving in would be the obvious thing to do. Now that he's entertaining the idea in his head, Wei Ying knows he wants to say yes.

Nevertheless, he doesn't want to accept Lan Zhan's offer without at least talking to Sizhui first. Whatever happened in the past, Lan Zhan is Sizhui's father now.

“I still want to talk to him first. Is that alright?”

Lan Zhan nods, understanding as always. “Of course.

“If it's not already obvious, I do want to live with you,” Wei Ying tells him. “But let me talk to Sizhui first. And then I'm all yours.”

He winks at Lan Zhan but deep down his stomach is performing somersaults. After everything they've gone through, it's such a relief to finally see the future clearly before him.

A life with Lan Zhan... He couldn't ask for anything more.

 

- x -

 

Two days pass until Xichen finally musters up enough courage to go to the police station. He gazes up at the building with a million thoughts racing through his head. A majority of them are trying to convince him that he should turn around and forget about this. Tempting as that is, he knows he will never be able to live his life in peace if he allows this guilt to fester forever. He has been a coward for too long. It's time.

As luck would have it, the very person he wishes to talk to leaves the police station. Nie Mingjue freezes as soon as he sees him, a deep frown quickly forming between his eyebrows. Shortly after, Jiang Cheng also emerges out of the police station. He stops in his tracks, staring between Xichen and Nie Mingjue.

“Xichen... What are you doing here?” Jiang Cheng asks.

Xichen keeps his gaze on the chief officer. Before he stopped, Xichen spotted a noticeable limp in his step, but aside from that, Nie Mingjue seems to have recovered from his injuries at the casino.

Regardless, Xichen is quite certain Nie Mingjue would still force himself to go to work even if he had not fully healed. He will always be stubborn no matter what life he is reincarnated into.

“I... I wanted to talk to Chief Nie,” Xichen forces himself to say. “And Meng Yao, if he is here.”

Nie Mingjue's dark eyes narrow at him. “I had Meng Yao released.”

Released? Meng Yao was... released? He did not expect that. He was under the impression that Meng Yao was still in custody.

This revelation leaves him speechless. He fumbles for any words to say. Nie Mingjue beats him.

“I'm busy right now,” he says. “My shift ends at five. We can talk then.”

“Oh. Of course, that... that is fine.”

Nie Mingjue gives a stiff nod. “Meet me at that café we first met. I'll tell Meng Yao to come along too.”

He does not wait for Xichen to respond. Instead, he limps past him and disappears off into the car park. Once he's out of sight, Xichen releases a sigh of relief, his shoulders sinking down.

“You're finally talking to them,” Jiang Cheng says.

Slowly, Xichen nods. He runs a hand through his long hair, still gazing at the path Nie Mingjue has disappeared off to. “I am tired of running,” he says.

“Well, good luck. I don't know what happened between you three, but... I hope you sort it out.”

Facing him, Xichen beams at the younger officer. Like Nie Mingjue, Jiang Cheng also looks well. After the incident, he sported a few bruises and cuts from Wen Ruohan's gang, though, thankfully, most of those have healed now. There is, however, a small scratch on his cheek. Xichen's hands itch to stroke it, wondering if it still hurts.

He clenches his hands into fists and forces his smile wider. “Thank you, Jiang Cheng.”

Jiang Cheng looks away. “Um, maybe later... We can talk as well?”

Curious, Xichen raises his eyebrows. “You wish to tell me something?”

For some unexplainable reason, Jiang Cheng's cheeks turn a bright shade of red. He turns away even more, trying in vain to hide it. “It's nothing bad,” he quickly mutters. “I-I'll meet you after you finish talking to Chief Nie and Meng Yao.”

Strange... What could he possibly wish to talk about? The evident blush on Jiang Cheng's cheeks is feeding the fire of Xichen's curiosity, although he dampens it down and nods at the officer. Jiang Cheng must be busy today. After all, Xichen has visited him during his shift. He will wait until later.

“Okay,” he says. “Have a nice day at work, Officer.”

Jiang Cheng gives him a smile of his own. There is still a faint flush of pink on his cheeks and his smile is lopsided, but it is enough. Xichen bids him farewell and watches as he leaves to join Nie Mingjue.

Later, then...

Waiting is harder than Xichen expects it to be. He has not opened the library today, simply because he does not think he is in the right frame of mind to work. In the end, he goes to the café despite it only being noon. He will wait here until Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao come. Fortunately, he has brought a book along that he can read to pass the time—although, he doubts he will be able to focus on it with all these thoughts in his head.

Nie Mingjue has released Meng Yao despite his involvement with Wen Ruohan... Xichen is still reeling from that. The Nie Mingjue from the past would have never done this. He was stubborn, refusing to rest until Meng Yao – Jin Guangyao – was brought to justice. Could it be that things have changed?

Well, it is not as if Meng Yao has committed a crime on the same level as he had done so in the past. If what he said was the truth, then he was also a victim in all this. He blindly followed Wen Ruohan until it was too late to stop.

Xichen sighs. As expected, he's unable to focus on his book at all. The hours are long and arduous.

He's actually thankful once he spots the familiar figures of Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao enter the café. The relief, however, is short-lived; as soon as they see him, all Xichen can hear is the thundering of his pulse. He desperately tries to ignore it as they sit before him.

As per usual, Meng Yao is wearing sunglasses to disguise himself. He takes them off as soon as he sits down, quickly scanning the café around them to ensure it is empty enough that he will not get recognised.

Nie Mingjue pulls his chair closer to the table. “Well?” he prompts.

Well... Now that they are here, everything Xichen planned to say has been forgotten.

“What is the aftermath of the casino infiltration?” he asks. They can start at that.

“We arrested Wen Xu and Xue Yang, along with anyone involved with the gang,” Nie Mingjue explains. “Oh, and that Wei Ying came yesterday. He seems okay.”

'Okay' is an understatement. By some miracle, Wei Wuxian has been brought back to life and he has all of his memories from his past in tact. Although Wangji told Xichen that he received help from an immortal, it is still surprising nonetheless. Xichen never considered the possibility of sacrificing your golden core for someone. He did not think such an act could be done.

“I know,” he says. “My brother went with him.”

“Yeah, I saw him too. We interrogated them but... well, there's not much I can do about you and your brother.”

Xichen doesn't miss the dissatisfaction in his tone. He ducks his head down, frowning at the table. “I have told you everything.”

Nie Mingjue sighs. “I know, but I can't exactly tell everyone else that you and your brother are immortal magical beings that helped us in taking down Wen Ruohan.”

“We're not anymore... We lost our golden cores.”

“That proves my point more. If I say anything else, everyone will think I've gone insane.”

He's not wrong. No doubt people will think he has lost his mind if Nie Mingjue tells even a fraction of the truth. They will most likely doubt his capability for his position, thinking that all of the stress has gone to his head. It is no surprise that Nie Mingjue is frustrated with this. He has always been the type to believe firmly in justice. Most of all, he despised liars.

“I'm sorry,” Xichen says. He turns to Meng Yao, who has been silent all this time. Nie Mingjue does the same. Under both of their gazes, Meng Yao offers a hesitant smile that could hardly pass for a smile at all.

“I'm keeping an eye on him,” Nie Mingjue tells Xichen.

Meng Yao pulls at the sleeve of his cardigan, sighing under his breath. “I've told you, Chief Nie; if you find me guilty, then I won't resist. Arrest me if you must.”

Nie Mingjue narrows his eyes at him. “Do you think you're guilty?”

“I didn't do any of it for self-gain if that's what you're thinking. I trusted Wen Ruohan at first, but as soon as I realised the truth, I remained with him because...” Meng Yao pauses, glancing up at Xichen. His mouth parts open, then he closes it again, swallowing back what he was going to say. After a while, he's the first one to break eye contact, frowning into the distance. “I wanted a chance to make things right,” he says, quietly.

“He was the one who told Xue Yang to kill the people Wen Ruohan sent after you and Jiang Cheng,” Nie Mingjue adds on, noticing Xichen's confusion.

Meng Yao shrugs. “I suspected that if you were attacked, you would defend yourself. There would have been too many witnesses that would see you use cultivation... and I needed Xue Yang to lure all of you to the casino.”

“Why lure us in the first place?” Xichen asks.

“I told you.” Meng Yao rubs his forehead, massaging the frown off his face. “I only realised Wen Ruohan's true motives that night. I had my suspicions but after seeing his reaction to you, it dawned on me that he remembered the past. The gang attacks... His attempts to anger Chief Nie... It was all part of his stupid, elaborate plan. In order to beat Wen Ruohan, you need to manipulate him into thinking he still has control.”

The way he spoke about it reminds Xichen that Meng Yao had bested Wen Ruohan in the past. He knew how to manipulate people, how to find their desires and use it to his own advantage. Hearing him talk like this now... Xichen stiffens, feeling goosebumps rise on his arms.

“Where do Xue Yang and Huaisang fall into this?” he continues. “Do they... remember as well?”

Meng Yao purses his lips together, staring up at the ceiling in thought. “I had my suspicions that Xue Yang remembered. He tried to follow Xiao Xingchen one evening...”

This time, it's Nie Mingjue's turn to ask a question. “Why would Xue Yang care about Xiao Xingchen?”

“They were... acquainted in the past. Xue Yang was responsible for Xiao Xingchen's death. I suspect part of him remembers, at least enough that he may regret it.” Meng Yao shrugs once again and waves it off. “Xue Yang is a difficult character to predict.”

When Xue Yang was in the police station, he acted as if the whole situation amused him. He wasn't scared—or, rather, it was that nothing scared him. He didn't care about anything. He did not even resist with they arrested him.

It reminded Xichen of Wen Xu, who stared into nothing as the police led him away. Jiang Cheng told him that Wen Xu seemed like he only wanted this farce to be over.

Was Xue Yang the same?

Xichen shakes his head to himself. It is as Meng Yao said; Xue Yang is unpredictable.

“And what about my brother?” Nie Mingjue asks. “Don't tell me he's part of all this.”

At the mention of Huaisang, Meng Yao shifts on his chair, grimacing. “I didn't know what else to do that night. I thought it would be best to tell Huaisang what I had planned... I'm sorry for my deception, but I did what I thought was best. Wen Ruohan would have suspected something otherwise.”

How ironic it was that Meng Yao and Huaisang both worked together to deceive Wen Ruohan... In the past, Huaisang tried his best to reveal Meng Yao's crimes to the world, at the cost of his own life. Xichen is thankful history did not go down that path this time.

Meng Yao had said it was because he wanted to make things right... Did that mean he regretted what he had done in the past?

“But why?” Xichen says before he can stop himself. “You say that you did it because you wished to make things right... Why?”

For a while, Meng Yao is silent. He keeps his gaze on the table, unblinking, until Xichen wonders if he has heard him—or if he is simply choosing not to answer.

“Wen Ruohan asked me something similar. He asked me what I wanted...” he mumbles after some time. “I told him that I wanted closure.”

“Closure?”

Meng Yao nods. He stares back up at Xichen, and it's then that Xichen realises how uncannily similar he looks to the person he used to be. Not because they are the same—but because this is the Meng Yao that Xichen trusted back in the Sunshot Campaign; the Meng Yao that hid him from the world; the Meng Yao that distracted him at night, telling him about his own mother so that Xichen would not think about the burnt home he left behind.

Deep down, he always wondered if that Meng Yao was only a figment of his imagination. Had he always been ambitious? Had he always hid evil intentions underneath those large eyes?

Xichen would like to think there was a time when Meng Yao was just Meng Yao. He would like to think that time is also now.

Meng Yao tucks his hair behind his ear and slowly speaks. “It's an odd feeling having memories of your past life... I don't think I remember everything, and I still feel as if this is my life now, not back then. But I know I had regrets. I couldn't rest until I redeemed myself—or at least tried to.” He looks up at both Nie Mingjue and Xichen. “Of course, it is your decision if you forgive me or not.”

His gaze lingers on Nie Mingjue. A wry smile spreads on his lips. “I am aware Chief Nie doesn't remember anything... but I wanted things to be different between us this time too.”

Xichen holds onto the hope that this is possible. When he burnt the corpses of his sworn brothers all those years ago, not only did he hope it would give them another chance at life, he also hoped that, one day, the three of them could settle their differences.

Is it naïve to still hope for that, even after everything that has happened?

Folding his arms, Nie Mingjue scrutinises both Xichen and Meng Yao. Xichen will admit it is harder to talk to him, solely because he does not remember anything. He does not want to overwhelm the officer with details he will not understand, moreover when Nie Mingjue is not known for his patience. Quite the opposite in fact.

“What exactly happened between the three of us?” he asks.

“The three of us were sworn brothers,” Xichen answers. “We were like family. Companions. I trusted both of you with my life.”

Meng Yao rubs the back of his neck, avoiding Nie Mingjue's gaze. “I had my own goals.” He coughs. “In short, I murdered you, as well as many other countless people. Xichen-ge found out and... stopped me.”

“You? Murder me?” Nie Mingjue scoffs. There's no anger on his face. In fact, he actually looks.. amused. Xichen is at a loss for words.

“I'm glad you find it more amusing now,” Meng Yao bristles. “I was quite lethal back then.”

Nie Mingjue laughs, loud and clear.

Now, Xichen really is taken aback. He can only blink in stupefied confusion as Meng Yao rolls his eyes, clearly resisting the urge to smile at Nie Mingjue's reaction.

Nie Mingjue leans back on his chair. “How else am I supposed to react? I don't remember any of this. I don't even know what you two are talking about.” Xichen expected as much, although he never thought Nie Mingjue of all people would be amused. “I just know none of this should matter now. When did all this happen?”

“Over two thousand years ago,” Xichen answers automatically.

The officer waves a hand as if to prove his point. “Then why does it matter now? Move on.”

Meng Yao shakes his head, laughing lightly. “Back then, you would have been the last person to disregard a person's wrongdoings.”

“Maybe. It's easier for me to say this because I have no memories of what you two are talking about.” Nie Mingjue shrugs. “But letting something affect you when it happened thousands of years ago just sounds...”

“Silly,” Xichen says.

“I was going to say unnecessary.”

“But it is silly,” Xichen insists. “I had always been too scared to face reality... In the past, I would come across similar reincarnations of either of you and I would run away. Sometimes, I would flee the country and find solitude with my thoughts. I spent so many centuries living in guilt.”

The direction of this conversation is making him want to laugh. He had been living thousands and thousands of years, dreading the day he would have to face these two again... And now? Now, Meng Yao and Nie Mingjue are laughing like the old times. Why had he been so scared?

“In hindsight, it is silly,” he says. Before he knows it, a short chuckle leaves him. Truthfully, he is frustrated he has spent so much time wallowing in guilt, but he is tired of belittling himself for every emotion that he feels. Laughing about it is better than locking yourself up in seclusion.

“I hope you won't do that anymore,” Meng Yao mutters.

Xichen shakes his head. “I won't. As Chief Nie said, I think it is about time I moved on.”

“Good for you,” Nie Mingjue says. Praise from him is rare; Xichen basks in it and allows himself to laugh again.

Stretching back, Nie Mingjue yawns. His relaxed expression breaks away as he accidentally kicks a table. He grips his leg, muttering a string of curses. “Meng Yao, next time you want to play the hero, at least make sure I won't get shot,” he snaps.

Meng Yao's lip curls. “In my defence, I didn't expect that you would lunge at Wen Xu when he had a gun.”

Xichen has to smile at that. Nie Mingjue was an action-first, think-later kind of man. He would not just wait for the enemy. “Of course Da-ge would do that,” he says without thinking.

Meng Yao's eyes widen just as Xichen realises it is best he does not call Nie Mingjue that. Old habits – even if they are from thousands of years ago – die hard.

Nie Mingjue frowns, scratching the back of his head. Before he can question it, his phone rings and he quickly fishes it out of his pocket with an irritated grumble.

As soon as he answers, Xichen can hear frantic screaming coming from the other line. There is only one person who will call Nie Mingjue in such a state, and volume.

“Huaisang, stop yelling! What the fuck happened?” Nie Mingjue demands. After Huaisang presumably answers, Nie Mingjue only yells louder. Around them, the customers in the café are staring with annoyed glances. Meng Yao shrinks into his chair and pretends to be enamoured with the menu, purposely hiding behind it.

In the end, Nie Mingjue hangs up and swears some more. After he finishes, Meng Yao peeks out from the menu.

“Is something the matter?” Meng Yao asks, just as Nie Mingjue rises from his chair with a sigh.

“Huaisang's car broke down in the middle of the road,” he explains. “He's freaking out and asking me to help him.”

Ah. Typical Huaisang, then. It is good to see that, even after being held at gunpoint, Huaisang has returned back to normal.

Meng Yao's brows wrinkle together. “Is your leg fully recovered yet? I can help him—”

“It's fine. I'll survive,” Nie Mingjue insists. “Anyway, I'll be going now.” He turns to Meng Yao, kicking his chair lightly. “Stay out of trouble.” Then, to Xichen he offers a crooked grin. “I'll see both of you around.”

The remaining two watch as he leaves the café, a limp still evident in his steps. Once he is gone, Meng Yao releases a sigh, muttering under his breath about how stubborn the old oaf was. It warms Xichen's heart.

“I expected him to be... angrier,” Xichen admits.

“He was. After the casino thing, I went to the police station with them... He was livid.” Meng Yao rests his chin on his hands, half-heartedly looking around the café. “I thought I was going to jail—I wouldn't have minded. I expected it. I was in custody for days.”

“But...?”

“I don't know. They said I could go yesterday but didn't elaborate why.”

Xichen gazes out of the window. Even with his limp, Nie Mingjue's presence is so intimidating that everyone in his path quickly moves out of the way. Rounding a corner, he finally disappears out of sight.

Perhaps it is as he said it is; Nie Mingjue does not remember anything, therefore it is easier for him to disregard these things... But no, that does not sound like him at all. Nie Mingjue was, and will always be a stubborn man. He stuck to his beliefs in what he thought was right.

“Maybe part of him does remember,” Xichen muses. “And he did not want to repeat history.”

Meng Yao raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. “He didn't want to repeat history... by arresting me?”

“He was tired of the hostility between both of you. It is as he said: we should move on.”

Xichen would like to think this is the case. Nie Mingjue is not the type of person to shrug off anything. Part of him, somewhere deep down, must want closure too.

“...Maybe,” Meng Yao mumbles.

Silence dawns between them. Meng Yao seems to be lost in his own thoughts, frowning intently at the small vase of flowers in front of them. What could he be thinking about?

Once, Xichen thought he could read Meng Yao better than anyone could. He prided himself in being the closest to the elusive man, thinking that he was trusted above all.

In truth, Meng Yao did trust him—but not enough to show him his true colours until the very end. Now, Xichen barely knows anything about him.

And that is okay. In time, if it is meant to be, they may trust each other again. For now, this is okay. This is all he can ask for. Some closure.

“I should go as well,” Meng Yao eventually says, offering an apologetic smile. “I promised my brother I would meet him for dinner tonight.”

Jin Zixuan?

Sensing his curiosity, Meng Yao beams. “Da-ge is back from America—not Chief Nie. My actual Da-ge. Xuanyu and I are meeting him for dinner. It's been a while since the three of us saw each other.”

Xichen finds himself smiling at the thought of Meng Yao having dinner with his half brothers. Back then, their father's animosity created a rift between the three of them. They were barely even family as it is. It is good to see that has changed now.

“Have fun,” Xichen says. “And thank you for coming here.”

“No, thank you. I... I'm glad we talked.” Meng Yao stands up, gathering his things. As he slips his sunglasses back on, Xichen is suddenly reminded that Wen Ruohan had been his manager. With him gone, who is Meng Yao working for now? Is he still an actor?

...He should not pry into Meng Yao's business, but whatever has happened, Xichen hopes he is happy.

“Er-ge, are you happy?”

Xichen blinks. He is surprised, not only because he didn't expect Meng Yao to ask that question, but also because he immediately knows the answer.

“Yes,” he says. “Yes, I am.”

“Truly? I remember that you would always smile at everyone... It made me wonder if your smiles were genuine, or forced as mine were.”

Meng Yao continues to astonish him. With his sunglasses on, it is difficult to read his expressions—but it has always been difficult to read him from the very beginning, anyway. In the past, Meng Yao hid behind a charming smile, using it as a shield against those who mocked him on a daily basis.

Similarly, Xichen has developed a habit of hiding his true emotions. It is easier to pretend everything is okay, rather than burden others with your problems.

This time, Xichen offers him a genuine smile; one that reaches the corner of his eyes and lifts the weight that has been engulfing his heart for many, many years.

“I am, truly. Talking to both of you has lifted a weight off my shoulders.”

Meng Yao nods. “That's good.”

“And you? Are you happy, Meng Yao?”

A smile spreads across the actor's lips, revealing dimples in his cheeks. “I am.”

“And is that a forced smile or not?”

The smile spreads into a grin. Even through his sunglasses, Xichen knows Meng Yao's amber eyes are bright. Genuine.

“I'm happy to have met you again,” he says.

Xichen does not realise his eyes are stinging with unshed tears until Meng Yao waves to him, bidding another farewell before leaving the café. He blinks rapidly and allows Meng Yao's last words to sink in. I'm happy to have met you again.

He feels the same. Xichen is glad the three of them have been given a second chance.

Now with Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao gone, Xichen shudders in relief and all but sinks in his chair. It's over, he thinks. It's all going to be okay.

Goodness, he hasn't felt like this in... in ever. Half of his head is still reeling in shock that the three of them actually managed to talk, and the other half is laughing at how easy it had been.

Sighing, Xichen gazes out of the window and sees that the sun is only just beginning to set. How long had they been in this café?

And... huh?

Xichen sits up, spotting a familiar uniform in the distance. As he squints his eyes, he recognises the unruly locks of black hair, the tired look on his face. Jiang Cheng.

That's right, didn't he wish to talk to him?

Quickly gathering his things, Xichen leaves the café and squeezes past everyone in the street. It doesn't take long for Jiang Cheng to see him. As soon as Xichen joins his side, Jiang Cheng stiffens, leaving the older man to wonder what on earth could be the problem.

“You're here,” Xichen says.

Jiang Cheng's signature scowl makes its way onto his face. He folds his arms and scoffs to the side. “I said I'd meet you after, didn't I?”

“Should we sit down at the café? You said you had something to tell me.”

“N-No,” Jiang Cheng stutters for some reason. “Let's just... Let's take a walk around the city.”

Xichen nods. A walk would be nice.

Silently, the two of them walk to a quieter junction of the city. Around them, there are countless people rushing home; children eager for the weekend, parents tired after a long day of work. They pass a young girl walking her dog and spare a few seconds to smile at the over-excited bundle of fluff running around Jiang Cheng's legs. Grinning, Jiang Cheng kneels down to ruffle the dog's ears.

Eventually, they reach a bridge overlooking one of Gusu's rivers. Purple is beginning to seep through the blue skies, signifying the end of this day. Xichen breathes in the clean air and leans against the bridge, watching the water rippling beneath them. In the distance, there is the never-ending chatter of people blending into one another. Gusu has changed much from the quiet city near the mountains, and yet, it is still his home. Gusu will always be his home.

Jiang Cheng leans by the bridge too. “So how did things go with them?” he asks. “Did the three of you talk?”

“Yes. It was... It was fine.” Xichen laughs to himself. “I've spent so many centuries dreading this moment, but... but it's over now. I feel silly for avoiding it for so long.”

Jiang Cheng remains quiet, letting him continue despite his thoughts not making sense.

“I let the guilt consume my life for thousands of years... and now I just feel...” Xichen purses his lips. “I don't know what I feel.”

“Is it that bad?”

“No, no. Not bad at all. No. Perhaps it is shock. I'm still getting acquainted to living each day as it is.”

Nodding, Jiang Cheng stares at the river beneath them. He has not yet looked at Xichen, purposely avoiding his gaze whenever he can.

Maybe he's tired, Xichen thinks. After all, he has just finished work, and it must be hectic at the police station with all the news about Wen Ruohan.

“Will you stay in Gusu?”

Xichen tilts his head at the unexpected question. “Yes, of course. Why?”

“I just thought that you might want to move away,” Jiang Cheng mumbles. “I don't know, see the world or whatever.”

Xichen chuckles at this. “I've seen enough. If anything, I wish to settle down. Gusu is my home.”

“Right... That's... That's good.”

More silence. It is starting to worry him. Even if Jiang Cheng was tired, usually he would be ranting or glaring at anything he walked past. Rather than tired, he looks preoccupied. He is constantly fiddling with the braided bracelet he always wore around his wrist, twisting it one way and then twisting it the other

Xichen leans closer. “What did you wish to tell me?”

His approach doesn't work. Jiang Cheng quickly turns away, but not before Xichen spots the red hue spreading through his cheeks. What in the world is the matter? Does he have a fever?

“Jiang Cheng?”

He hears a frustrated groan coming from the younger man. When he turns around again, Jiang Cheng is glaring straight at him.

“Did you mean what you said that night?” he sharply asks.

“What... night?”

“When we had that argument. After the gang attack!” Jiang Cheng waves his hand between them. “You said that what we had between us was... was nothing.”

Oh. That.

After the attack, Xichen was worried that his involvement with Jiang Cheng would hurt him the way he hurt his sworn brothers. He never expected to get attached to the officer at all. Neither of them interacted with each other outside of sect business in the past; and while Xichen saw Jiang Cheng in previous reincarnated lives, he never spoke to him either. They had always been crossing paths, never stopping to get to know each other.

“I... I never apologised for that. I did not mean to upset you,” Xichen mumbles, eyes downcast. “I was... I was lying. I was scared of involving you in case it would put you in danger.”

He hears Jiang Cheng's sharp intake of breath. “If you were lying, then what exactly are we?”

Xichen pauses. He meets Jiang Cheng's blue eyes, repeating the question to himself.

“Friends?” he answers, but even then, the word feels strange on his tongue.

Jiang Cheng flinches. “Is that it?”

The chatter of people in the background muffles out. What are they exactly? Acquaintances? Friends?

Or...?

No.

They are friends, but that... that does not feel right to Xichen. He enjoys Jiang Cheng's company. A day will feel strange and incomplete if he does not see the younger officer.

He has not entertained the thought of being anything more to someone in a long while. Some time in the 1980s, Xichen separated from Wangji and travelled the world by himself, trying to find a reason for this bleak existence they referred to as a life. He cast aside the Cloud Recesses' rules, ignoring the voice inside his head that told him his behaviour was wrong. Instead, he drank, he explored new places, and he visited the brothels hidden deep in the heart of every city.

But those days did not last long. The brothels reminded him of the days he spent hidden with Meng Yao. Sex did not pleasure him, and wine only wiped his memory for one evening, until everything returned in full force come the rising sun. Xichen returned to Wangji and apologised for his disappearance, vowing he will never do anything so reckless ever again.

Sometimes, he looked at his brother and wished that he was in love the way Wangji was in love with Wei Wuxian. Xichen knew Wangji stayed alive because he wished to reunite with Wei Wuxian one day—but what about him? What did Xichen live for?

Would he ever find a love as strong as what kept his brother alive?

Those questions made him feel like a terrible brother. He knew Wangji was suffering as much as he was, regardless of whether he had a reason for living or not. And so, Xichen buried these thoughts and desires inside him, hiding everything with a smile.

Now, he looks at Jiang Cheng and wonders if, maybe, after all this time, the answer had been right in front of him all along.

He sighs, feeling his heart slowly race at the thought that blossoms in his head. When he was drunk, had he not kissed Jiang Cheng? They chose to brush it off and remain friends, but...

“I... I was under the impression you would not welcome any... advances,” Xichen says.

Jiang Cheng looks personally offended. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“You were not exactly happy when I kissed you.”

“You were drunk!”

Xichen raises his eyebrows, composed even in the wake of Jiang Cheng's rising wrath. “Would you prefer it if I was sober?”

As if he had hit him, Jiang Cheng flinches. He covers half his face, doing a very poor job of obscuring the blush on his cheeks. “How the fuck am I supposed to know if you won't do it?!”

Xichen freezes. His raised eyebrows furrow into a frown.

“Wait,” Jiang Cheng quickly says. “Forget I said that. I didn't mean it like that.”

“What did you mean?”

“Nothing! Forget I said anything!”

“Jiang—”

“I said forget it!”

Jiang Cheng is stubborn, but this time, Xichen is even more stubborn. He grabs onto Jiang Cheng's wrist before he can walk away, yanking him back.

“Jiang Cheng, I enjoy being with you a lot,” he hurries to say. “When I first met you, I did not expect to enjoy your company at all.”

Although he is still flushed, Jiang Cheng scowls at him. “Is that supposed to flatter me?”

Unable to help himself, Xichen laughs loudly. He slips his hands down Jiang Cheng's wrists, slowly stroking his palms instead. When Jiang Cheng does not move away or resist, Xichen entwines their fingers and smiles at how well their hands fit together.

“In my defence, you arrested me when we first met. It wasn't a pleasant first impression,” he says. Jiang Cheng's hands are warm and surprisingly soft. Xichen squeezes them, watching the slight twitch that tugs at Jiang Cheng's eyebrows.

“What the fuck was I supposed to do?” Jiang Cheng mutters. He looks down at their hands. “Y-You were just standing in the middle of nowhere with a damn sword...”

“You also searched my home without a warrant.”

Now, Jiang Cheng glances back at him. It is amazing how his expression can flicker between being flustered and being irritated in a matter of seconds.

He glares. “I apologised for that.”

Xichen shakes his head. “What I am trying to say is that despite your explosive temper, I've grown very attached to you.” He cautiously takes a step forward. Jiang Cheng's shoulders tense and his eyes widen. Xichen strokes the back of his hand, searching his face for any sign of discomfort. “I have been so used to keeping people at a distance from myself... I did not want to hurt anyone as I had done in the past.”

Slowly, he leans in. Jiang Cheng squeezes his hands, his lips parting.

It is only when Jiang Cheng's eyelids flutter shut does Xichen finally close the distance between them. Gently, he presses their lips together, giving the younger man the opportunity to stop it in case he did not want this. As the seconds pass, Jiang Cheng does not pull away, and neither does Xichen. He slides his mouth against his, darting forward his tongue.

Jiang Cheng stiffens. He parts his lips open, allowing Xichen inside. Their kiss is soft and gentle, as if the whole world has stopped in its axis just for them alone. Jiang Cheng is the first to let go of their hands, wrapping his arms around Xichen's neck and pulling him closer.

Gripping his waist, Xichen loses himself in the taste of Jiang Cheng. Behind them, the sunset continues to bleed purple into blue, and the chatter of the city has not stopped once.

When Jiang Cheng pulls away, everything is different. The blues of the sky is the same colour as his eyes, and the distant voices of strangers cannot drown out the pulse beating in Xichen's ears. Jiang Cheng licks his lips, looking at anywhere but him.

“So...?” Jiang Cheng mumbles, coughing slightly.

Xichen licks his lips too. Jiang Cheng's taste lingers.

“To answer your prior question; I would like there to be something between us. If you would allow it,” he says.

Jiang Cheng looks up, eyes large. “Some... Something?”

“Yes, something. I think I would like there to be something more between us.”

There it is. Another scowl being thrown at him, coupled by the reddening of Jiang Cheng's ears. “Y-You think?”

Endeared, Xichen smiles at him. It may be too early to compare this to the love Wangji has felt for centuries, but Xichen thinks he is finally beginning to find some clarity in his life. For once, he feels light, happy. For once, he sees someone in front of him who he is not afraid to get closer to, who he wants to get closer to.

Xichen tips up Jiang Cheng's chin with a finger, brushing his lips over his. “I know,” he says. “I like you a lot, Officer Jiang.”

Jiang Cheng shivers. He scoffs and grits his teeth. Then, without a warning, he grabs the back of Xichen's head and pulls him in for another kiss.

Xichen will take that as a sign his feelings are mutual. Smiling against Jiang Cheng's lips, he wraps his arms around his waist and kisses him back.

 

- x -

 

Aside from the fact that he had a lot of explaining to do, life hasn't been too different ever since Wei Ying returned to Gusu two days ago. Wen Qing yelled at him for an hour straight but he survived her onslaught and lived to tell the tale. Wen Ning had also been worried; if Wei Ying didn't reassure him that he was one hundred percent fine, then he was pretty sure Wen Ning would have actually cried on the spot. Both siblings thought he had started drinking again, to the point where he had a breakdown and decided to disappear off the face of the planet. Wei Ying didn't blame them.

On top of that, Shen Yuan gave him another week off work, having been thoroughly convinced that Wei Ying was suffering from a fever, rather than being abducted and dying. Wei Ying felt bad for lying, especially after everything Shen Yuan did for him. Realistically, it is best not to tell your boss that the reason you didn't turn up to work was because you died and came back to life. Shen Yuan is nice to him, yeah, but he's not that nice.

So, yeah; explaining to his friends was fine, work was fine... He also had to go to the police station and tell Chief Nie that, hey, he was alive. As luck would have it, Lan Xichen already did the impossible job of convincing Nie Mingjue that cultivators were real. He didn't know how he did it, but thank god he didn't have to lie to Nie Mingjue. He doubts Nie Mingjue would have let him out of the police station otherwise.

Life is slowly returning back to normal... or as normal as things can get. The only thing left to do is to talk to Sizhui.

“Don't you usually pick up Sizhui from school?” Wei Ying asks Lan Zhan. They're currently waiting for the teenager to get back from school, drinking tea in Lan Zhan's dining room.

Lan Zhan glances up from the book he's reading and shakes his head. “He said he will take the bus today.”

“Has he asked why I haven't been in school?”

Putting down the book, Lan Zhan pours more tea into his cup. “Brother said Jin Ling was told that you were missing. I believe Jin Ling then informed Sizhui. They have not told anyone in your school though.”

Wei Ying sighs in relief at that. It would be awkward if Shen Yuan heard rumours that he went missing, instead of suffering from a fever back at home like he's supposed to be. If Jin Ling and Sizhui know, then does that mean Jingyi does as well? Those three came in a package. Then again, if Jingyi heard of rumours that his teacher had gone missing, Wei Ying doubts the overexcited teenager would have been able to keep that a secret.

As he's left mulling over this, the door to Lan Zhan's house clicks open. Wei Ying glances up just in time to see Sizhui walking inside. He stops as soon as he sees him, eyes widening.

“Teacher Wei! You're okay!”

Wei Ying waves at him with a grin. “Hey, Sizhui. You miss me?”

Setting down his school bags by the side, Sizhui joins the two adults at the table. Lan Zhan pours him his own glass of tea.

“Are you okay?” he asks Wei Ying. “Everyone's been worried, Teacher Wei.”

Unable to stop himself, Wei Ying ruffles Sizhui's short hair and laughs when the teenager gives out a surprised squawk. “I'm alive,” he says, pulling his hand back. “Anyway, how have you been? Are you still being a good boy? Your grades haven't gone down?”

“Teacher Wei, you've only been gone for four days.”

“And? Gotta make sure my best student is still the best.”

At this, Sizhui's face reddens. He sips his tea, wincing when it's still too hot.

“How are you feeling now, Dad?” Sizhui asks, setting down his cup. “You didn't look so good this morning...”

Wei Ying frowns at Lan Zhan. Earlier, he asked him how he was doing without his core and Lan Zhan reassured him he was fine. He should have known that wasn't completely true.

“It is nothing,” Lan Zhan tells Wei Ying, already knowing the direction of his thoughts. “I am well.”

Still, Wei Ying's frown doesn't go. Awkwardly, Sizhui turns away from them and checks inside the teapot. “There's not much tea left...” he mumbles. “I'll go make some more.”

After he's gone, Wei Ying leans closer to Lan Zhan and nudges his side. “Have you told him about your core?”

“Not yet,” Lan Zhan answers with a low voice. He's watching Sizhui as he makes more tea from the kitchen, unaware of the two adults currently talking about him.

“Why not?”

Lan Zhan's brows knit together. “It would have worried him. I have been... tired for the past two days.”

The hesitance in his voice reveals everything Wei Ying needs to know. Lan Zhan's body was still adjusting to the loss of his core. As much as he's trying to ignore it and carry on as normal, even his son can see that something is wrong.

Wei Ying sighs. For the past two days, he'd been busy trying to fix everything after his disappearance that he hadn't managed to spend enough time with Lan Zhan. What little time they spent together was during the evening, when Wei Ying would return to his house instead of his apartment. By then, both of them were already too tired to do anything but stare up at the ceiling and cuddle in bed.

He trusts Lan Zhan can take care of himself, core or no core. Even so, that doesn't mean he's not concerned for him.

Wei Ying reaches over for Lan Zhan's hand and squeezes it, just as Sizhui returns with a newly filled pot of tea.

Smiling, the teenager refills both their cups with a small smile.

“Thanks, Sizhui,” Wei Ying says, blowing over the surface of the drink.

All three of them sit in silence, waiting for their drinks to cool. Wei Ying came here today to talk to Sizhui and ask him if he could live with them. He's wondering now how he can approach that conversation.

Well. Patience and tact has never been his strongest points. Setting his drink down, Wei Ying turns to Sizhui.

“Sizhui, I know your father's immortal.”

Almost immediately, the teenager chokes on his tea and coughs into his hand. He winces, squinting at Wei Ying. “E-Excuse me, what?”

Lan Zhan sighs. “Not anymore.”

Poor Sizhui looks even more confused now. His head snaps between Lan Zhan and Wei Ying, the frown on his face getting deeper and deeper by the second. “What? I... I don't understand. Dad, what do you mean 'not anymore'?"

“I am no longer immortal.”

“But how?”

Seeing as the poor kid has never looked so lost before, Wei Ying decides to step in.

“In order for a cultivator to become immortal, they need to train their golden core,” Wei Ying tells him. Of course, the confusion on Sizhui's face only multiplies as soon as he starts talking. “A golden core is what stores and controls spiritual energy. The more you train it, the stronger your core will become. If you train it enough, then you can become immortal. Your dad's golden core was what kept him alive for so long.”

Sizhui stares at him as if he's grown another head. “But... But Dad's saying he's not immortal anymore. Will he be okay?”

He's confused but his first concern is for his dad. Even though Sizhui must be wondering how the hell Wei Ying knows all this as well, he wants to make sure his father is okay first. How sweet.

“Your dad will be fine. He's just any normal dad now,” Wei Ying reassures him.

Sizhui's face relaxes slightly, then tenses again as he remembers something else. “What about Uncle Xichen? What about him?”

“He has lost his core too,” Lan Zhan answers. “We are both human now.”

It takes a while for this to sink in to Sizhui. He stares at his dad with wide eyes for the longest moment. Then, he ducks his head down and sniffs, his shoulders shaking slightly. Wei Ying's heart clenches for him. How strange would it have been; to have your father tell you they're immortal while you're not? As he grew older, Sizhui would have noticed that, no matter how many years have passed, Lan Zhan didn't age at all. On the outside, Sizhui acted like any well-behaved child, but it must have been difficult to live with the fact that, one day, he would grow older than his own father.

“On most days, I almost forgot you and Uncle Xichen were immortal,” Sizhui mutters quietly, so quietly that Wei Ying almost didn't hear him. “But then Uncle would make something float while he was cooking and then I'd remember. I didn't want to accept that I would grow older than both of you one day, especially you, Dad...”

The cool ice of Lan Zhan's usual expression warms. He reaches over and wipes the tears on Sizhui's cheeks, further embarrassing the boy. Silently, Wei Ying watches the scene in front of him with a fond smile.

“I will not leave you this time,” Lan Zhan promises. “I will always be here.”

Sizhui's bottom lip trembles. He tries his best not to cry more, but – bless him – his eyes tear up again and he frantically wipes at them, hiding his face. Then, to both Lan Zhan and Wei Ying's surprise, Sizhui stands up and flings himself at his dad.

Lan Zhan's eyes are wide, clearly not expecting to be hugged. Wei Ying grins at him over Sizhui's shoulder, pretending to wipe away tears as Lan Zhan returns the embrace. Lan Zhan has really done a good job of bringing Sizhui up...

After Sizhui composes himself, he pulls back and turns to Wei Ying. “But I still don't understand... Teacher Wei, how do you know all this?”

“Ah.” Wei Ying sits up, resting his chin on his hands. “Long story short: Your father and I used to know each other waaaaay back then. Like two thousand years ago. I, uh, only just remembered this week.”

If he said that to anyone, they would have most likely thought he was insane. Fortunately, Sizhui only nods very, very, very slowly.

“Did you... Did you know me?” he asks.

Before he answers that, Wei Ying turns to Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan nods at him.

“I did...” he says. “I knew you very well.”

Sizhui's eyes brighten. He gives him a large smile; the same smile A-Yuan would have whenever he wanted a toy from a merchant. Wei Ying resists the strong urge to ruffle his hair again.

“Really? How?”

“I only knew you when you were a little kid. You would always cling to my leg and never let go—you used to cling to Lan Zhan's leg too!”

Sizhui grimaces, looking very much like he wants the ground to swallow him whole. “I used to do that when I was young as well...”

Wei Ying cackles. “You were also so small that I planted you in the soil in the hopes it would make you grow!”

A horrified gasp leaves the teenager. Wei Ying carries on. This is too fun. “You would cry every time I didn't buy you a toy you wanted, so Lan Zhan ended up buying all of them for you. After that, you wouldn't leave him alone and even preferred him over me!”

By this point, Sizhui's face is bright red and his eyes frantically flicker between Wei Ying and his dad. “T-That's—! I-I'm not like that anymore!”

Wei Ying laughs some more. Sizhui is about twice the age he remembered him, but he still reacts the same to being teased. For extra measure, Wei Ying ruffles his hair again.

“Lan Zhan brought you up well. I'm happy—”

He freezes when, out of nowhere, Sizhui is suddenly clinging to him. Shocked, Wei Ying stares wide eyed at Lan Zhan, who gives him a smile of his own.

As quickly as he had hugged Wei Ying, Sizhui pulls away. “I-I don't remember anything but that... that felt familiar. Almost as if part of me remembers you, Teacher Wei.” He looks down. “But I'm sorry if I overstepped my boundaries!”

Wei Ying releases an exaggerated sigh. He grabs the teenager back into another embrace. “It's okay, I like hugs too.” Not one to leave anyone out, Wei Ying yanks at Lan Zhan's wrist as well, pulling him into their hug. It's probably one of the most awkward group hugs Wei Ying's ever had, but he laughs it off and hugs both Sizhui and Lan Zhan tighter.

Sizhui laughs. Lan Zhan stiffens. Wei Ying is content right where he is.

They sit back on their chairs afterwards, only just remembering their cups of tea. Wei Ying takes a sip of it, blanching at the fact it's now gone cold. Oh well.

“Sizhui,” Lan Zhan calls. “I have asked Wei Ying to live with me.”

“If that's okay with you, of course,” Wei Ying quickly adds on. “I know that knowing each other from the past doesn't change the fact you don't know me very well now—

“Yes! Yes, its okay with me!” Sizhui grins at him. “I'm happy for you both.”

Wei Ying smirks, lightly kicking Lan Zhan's leg. “That was easier than I thought.”

Sizhui laughs into his hand. “I wouldn't have said no. I've always felt comfortable around you, Teacher Wei. Being around you reminded me of being around Dad...” He stands and gathers their cold tea, then looks up at the kitchen. His eyes brighten, like he's suddenly gotten an idea. “I can make dinner for all three of us to celebrate!”

Wei Ying winces. “Not tonight, sorry. I promised Jiang Cheng I'd have dinner with him today.” He offers Sizhui an apologetic smile. “Next time, we can celebrate.”

Nodding, Lan Zhan pulls him closer and kisses his forehead. “We will have plenty of days to celebrate.”

Wei Ying's heart swells and his stomach performs backflips. He leans closer and rests his head on Lan Zhan's shoulder. He's right. They have the rest of their lives to celebrate this.

 

- x-

 

“I was going to make A-Jie's lotus pork rib soup but I wouldn't have been able to get it the way she did it.”

Wei Ying looks up at Jiang Cheng just as he's finished wolfing down his bowl of rice. Instead of lotus pork rib soup, there's twice-cooked pork in hoisin sauce, served with caramelised onions and stir-fried bell peppers.

“This is good though,” Wei Ying tells him, wiping his mouth. “You were always the better cook out of the both of us.”

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “That's because you'd just put chilli on everything.”

“It's bland without chilli...”

Although, to his credit, Jiang Cheng did put some chilli in Wei Ying's sauce. Wei Ying got a bit emotional when he took a bite of the pork and realised that, after all these years, Jiang Cheng still remembers he likes spicy food.

He was surprised when Jiang Cheng invited him for dinner. Naturally, there's been a few awkward silences that hang over them now, but that's to be expected. It's been over a decade since they last acted like proper brothers.

“Where's Jin Ling?” Wei Ying asks, reaching for his glass of water. Jiang Cheng really piled all the chillies in this sauce. It's good.

“With Jin Zixuan.”

“Oh, he's back? I thought he was in America.”

Nodding, Jiang Cheng steals the last strip of pork that Wei Ying's been eyeing for ages. He ignores the outraged cry coming from him, shoving the pork into his mouth before Wei Ying can do anything about it.

“Yeah,” he says, still chewing. “He just got back today.”

If Jin Zixuan is back in Gusu, then... Wei Ying looks at Jiang Cheng. If he asks about Jiejie, would it make things between them tense again?

He braces himself. They may as well talk about this.

“How's Jiejie doing?”

Just as Jiang Cheng is about to answer, there's a knock on the door. Both brothers freeze, slowly turning towards it.

“You invited someone else for dinner?” Wei Ying asks. He gasps. “Or—wait, is it Xichen-ge?”

Instantly, Jiang Cheng's whole face turns red. “Shut up! Why the fuck would it be him?!”

Wei Ying raises his eyebrows and runs to the hallway, ignoring Jiang Cheng's explosive screaming. That reaction only means there is something going on with him and Lan Xichen. One day, Wei Ying's going to catch them on the act and make Jiang Cheng tell him everything. Still grinning at Jiang Cheng, he throws wide open the door.

“Why wouldn't it be him? You know, you should invite him to dinner with us in the future. I can bring Lan Zhan along too! It can be like a double date—”

His words are cut short as soon as he sees who their visitor is. It's not Lan Xichen. It's not Lan Xichen at all.

Jiejie beams at him, giggling at his dumbfounded reaction.

“Hello, A-Ying,” she says. “I'm home.”