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1.
Lan Wangji saw him sitting on the pier, staring into the waters, tails drawing ripples in the tranquil surface where they dipped into the lotus pond.
Wei Wuxian hadn’t seen him yet, lost in thought as he fidgeted with something in his hands. It wasn’t often that he got to see Wei Wuxian like this—quiet, unguarded. Very nearly still. Lan Wangji stayed hidden behind one of the lotus flowers for a little longer and enjoyed seeing him in this new light.
Soon, though, he couldn’t resist any longer. Lan Wangji was not impatient by nature, but Wei Wuxian always did strange things to him.
He swam forward, weaving carefully through the lotus flowers, trying not to disturb them with the strokes of his powerful tail.
“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian cried happily when he spotted him, a brilliant smile blooming across his face, warm and radiant as sunlight.
Lan Wangji swam right up to the pier, head tipped up to Wei Wuxian, who pressed a kiss to his damp face even as Lan Wangji used his arms to pull himself onto the dock.
“I was waiting for you!” Wei Wuxian declared, as though it hadn’t been obvious. It warmed Lan Wangji nonetheless. “It’s been too long, Lan Zhan! I thought, what if he doesn’t come? What if he’s sick of me already? Three days, and already abandoned! Too cruel, Lan Zhan, how could you?”
“Ridiculous,” Lan Wangji said, reaching out to pet one of Wei Wuxian’s tails as they danced excitedly behind him, relishing as Wei Wuxian’s eyes fell shut, his mouth caught open in pleasure.
“Maybe.” Wei Wuxian seemed too distracted to be aware of what he was saying, the word soft and agreeable. Lan Wangji huffed, and Wei Wuxian’s eyes flew open in surprise. “Lan Zhan! Are you laughing at me?”
Lan Wangji quickly arranged his face back into a blank mask, knowing Wei Wuxian wouldn’t be fooled. He reached out and grabbed Lan Wangji’s cheeks with both hands, squishing them in an undignified manner as he laughed. “Too mean, er-gege! Laughing at your Wei Ying! And too cute. You can’t let anyone see but me, okay? People will fall at your feet—fins to worship you, and where will that leave me?”
“With me, always.”
Wei Wuxian squeaked at that, a lovely flush to his face as he squeezed harder and ducked his head. “Warn a guy, Lan Zhan. My heart can’t take it.”
“Mn,” Lan Wangji hummed, unconvinced. Wei Wuxian could take a lot.
“Cruel,” Wei Wuxian muttered, but with no real heat. “And here I brought you a gift and everything.”
He picked up the small, brown paper wrapped parcel Lan Wangji had seen him fidgeting with earlier and handed it to him, face still red, but eager. “It’s nothing naughty this time, I promise.”
Lan Wangji hummed again, equally unconvinced, earning him another laugh from Wei Wuxian as he took the package and began to untie the brown paper, revealing a small journal, about the size of his hand, with a pretty red cover.
“Oh, hang on!” Wei Wuxian grabbed Lan Wangji’s hand and began to blot it with the fur of his tails. “Don’t want to get the paper wet!”
Lan Wangji felt his ears heat. Touching Wei Wuxian always felt like a little too much, the soft, light texture of his tails, the heat that radiated off of him into Lan Wangji’s water-cool skin. But when he did this—when Wei Wuxian grabbed him, when he touched him carelessly and artlessly, simply knowing that he could—these were Lan Wangi’s favorite touches. The ones that reassured him that, yes, this was real. Yes, this was something he got to have, despite all the impossibilities.
“Attempt the impossible,” Wei Wuxian had said to him from the dock just three short days ago, before he had leaned in and let Lan Wangji kiss him.
Lan Wangji, with his freshly dried hand, slightly fuzzy now where loose fur stuck to it, opens the journal and finds page after page of flowers drawn in delicate strokes of ink and splashes of paint. His eyes widen as he flips through. There are more than he could have imagined, of every color. Lan Wangji had traveled a lot in his life—it wasn’t until recently that he’d decided to swim the channel into the lotus-clogged lake of Yunmeng to make his home. But many of these were clearly inland flowers, far from any rivers or lakes. Far from the sea. Lan Wangji paused on a page with a flower so pale pink it was nearly white, with dark, pointed leaves that drooped like a collar ringing the bud.
“This one,” Wei Wuxian said, “is one of my favorites. From the mountains. It … it reminded me of you.” He reached out and traced a finger over the leaves, then touched Lan Wangji’s tail. “They look like fins.”
“They do,” Lan Wangji said, carefully turning another page. The pages were empty but for the drawings—no notations, no names, just page after page of pink petals and drooping blue-headed buds and golden clusters that looked like a school of tiny, shiny-scaled fish close to the surface, flashing in sunlight.
Lan Wangji turned to the final page—this one was familiar. A pair of lotus blossoms, mostly white with a blush of pink along the tips. “They look like your ears,” Wei Wuxian laughed quietly as he reached out a finger and stroked it delicately over the point of Lan Wangji’s ear. “I missed you so much when I saw it, I knew it was time to come back.”
“Here you are.” Lan Wangji reached up and grabbed his hand, bringing it down to his lips and pressing a kiss into the soft skin, dusted in downy auburn fur.
“Here I am.”
2.
Wei Wuxian was not at the dock.
It was not abnormal for Wei Wuxian to be elsewhere—he was busy teaching the little Jiang cranes who so often splashed about in the water, plucking at underripe lotus seeds and cracking their teeth.
Lan Wangji liked to watch Wei Wuxian teach, when he could. They didn’t always train close enough to the water for him to see, and sometimes Lan Wangji’s responsibilities took him elsewhere. This was Jiang territory, and Lan Wangji had to admit that they did a decent job of keeping the land and the sky safe. But the water was his responsibility, and he took it seriously. For people who lived on the water, the Jiangs seemed either unconcerned or unaware of the dangers it possessed.
Today, Lan Wangji was back from having vanquished an eel guai—a nasty, slimy thing that had proven more tricky than dangerous. He had been looking forward to having dinner with Wei Wuxian, hearing about his day with the junior disciples, having the details of his own day wheedled out of him over food—Lan Wangji was slowly warming up to speaking over food.
He approached the empty dock, noticing a small bundle of bright colors as he drew nearer, too small to make out clearly. Curious, he pulled himself onto the dock, a warm feeling blossoming in his chest, spreading out into the softening edges of his mouth. A small bouquet of pink and gold blossoms tied up in a red string awaited him, as much a love letter as any Lan Wangji had ever received.
The bouquet could not come with him to the water without being ruined, but it didn’t matter.
Lan Wangji tucked his tail beneath him, the long fingers of the setting sun drawing orange flames across his scales as he waited for Wei Wuxian.
3.
Sometimes, when they were feeling very daring or industrious, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian traveled together.
It was never a simple matter, figuring out the logistics of such trips. Lan Wangji could be out of water for several hours without issue—longer if he wetted his fins regularly to keep them from going dry and brittle in the air. But he was cumbersome on land, and felt foolish being toted around in a palanquin, no matter how Wei Wuxian insisted he deserved to be treated like a prince.
Likewise, Wei Wuxian could swim—of course he could swim, having grown up by the water—but his tails grew heavy when waterlogged. He could put them away, but Lan Wangji knew it caused him discomfort to do so, even if he wouldn’t admit it. His smile was always a little more fragile, a little more like thin-worn cloth, so Lan Wangji wouldn’t ask it.
They had their ways, though. For shorter trips, for casual daytimes spent together just for the joy of one another’s company, Wei Wuxian would acquire a boat—the means of acquisition never being entirely clear—and they would wade together through the lotus lakes, sometimes going as far as the gullet of the river that fed them, beyond which lay the path that led back to Gusu.
“Will you take me there someday?” Wei Wuxian asked as they idled at the edge of the lake, his gaze pinned distantly to the north on something neither of them could see.
“If you like,” Lan Wangji answered honestly. He would take Wei Wuxian wherever he wanted to go. Gusu was easy. Lan Wangji would go much farther for Wei Wuxian.
“Some day…” Wei Wuxian trailed off with a sigh, shaking himself, little drops of water spraying from the end of one of his tails that Lan Wangji had been holding beneath the water. “Not now though. Lan Zhan! I’m hungry! It’s not quite dinner time, but what if we—” He made a quick scan of the shoreline, then whooped in triumph, paddling for the bank. “I’ll be right back, Lan Zhan, wait here!”
Lan Wangji did. He watched as Wei Wuxian rowed up into the silty bank and hopped out of the boat, the hems of his robes instantly soiled with mud even as he held his tails primly aloft of the muck. With a broad smile, he waved to a pair of young women each holding a basket.
He leaned in toward them, his body loose and open, bent at the waist as his tails swayed flirtatiously behind him, the fur fluffed out in the way it did when Wei Wuxian was trying to look particularly soft and captivating. Even from here, Lan Wangji could see the effect it had, could hear the tinkling laughter of the girls from behind their hands.
The bitter taste in his mouth was ridiculous, Lan Wangji knew. Wei Wuxian was just like this—he didn’t know if this was a huli jing trait, or uniquely Wei Wuxian, but Lan Wangji could never be mad about something that made Wei Ying Wei Ying. He swallowed the vinegar, ignoring the sour sting of it in his stomach.
Soon, although much too long later, Wei Wuxian returned, little beads of sweat like gems on his forehead from the urgency of his rowing as he made his way back to Lan Wangji. His mouth, too, was glistening, wet and sticky where he had bitten into a peach.
“For you,” Wei Wuxian said, reaching out with the rest of the peach.
Lan Wangji took it, never able to turn down any of Wei Wuxian’s gifts. As he did so, Wei Wuxian reached behind himself into something else stashed within the boat, and pulled out a blue and white flower bouquet.
“And see here!” He smiled brighter with pride as he tucked the bouquet into the soft strap of Lan Wangji’s top. “I brought you flowers!”
Lan Wangji’s heart felt as though it might burst as the vinegar evaporated away under the heat of so much affection. Wei Wuxian pinched the tip of his ear gently, as he was fond to do in these moments. “So cute, my er-gege. Were you so jealous? The sweet meimeis asked me my favorite color—I said blue, of course. Blue like my Lan Zhan’s tail. But this pink is cute too.”
“Mn,” Lan Wangji hummed, turning the bitten peach over in his hand as he brushed the other over Wei Wuxian’s auburn fur, nearly black where it had soaked in the water. “For that reason, I would have said red.”
“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian predictably spluttered, hiding the dark flush of his face in his hands.
Lan Wangji smiled to himself, a small, secret thing, and sunk his teeth into the peach.
4.
It was winter.
Wei Ying, for all his fur and the many cloaks wrapped around his shoulders, shivered as the snow fell into the still liquid surface of the cold springs lake.
“Is it always like this?” he complained, his breath blossoming out in cold puffs. Lan Wangji longed to reach up and taste the misty flowers that grew from his lips, but he refrained. The dampness would only make Wei Wuxian colder.
“Yunmeng is much warmer,” Lan Wangji said, a sidestep from the question that caused Wei Wuxian to scoff another bouquet of breath into the air.
“I wish I could come with you.”
Lan Wangji said nothing, but squeezed Wei Wuxian’s fingers in agreement. He wished it as well, but some things could not be done, no matter how much wishing they did.
“Next time,” Wei Wuxian said forcefully, ruffling his tails as he steeled his conviction. “Next time, the talisman will be ready. I won’t let you do it alone again, er-gege, I promise.”
Lan Wangji couldn’t help himself this time. He pulled on Wei Wuxian’s hand so he bent down low enough that Lan Wangji could catch his lips in a kiss. He felt the shape of Wei Wuxian’s mouth smiling against his, and pulled him down further still, until Wei Wuxian was teetering dangerously on the water’s edge.
“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian scolded, pulling back. “You’re going to pull me in! Then you’ll have a wet fox on your hands, is that what you want?”
“Mn,” Lan Wangji hummed, his tail slapping against the surface of the water.
“Lan Zhan! It’s too cold!”
Lan Wangji hummed again, dubious this time, earning a yip of laughter from Wei Wuxian. It echoed off of the sheer stone walls that ringed in the lake, coming back to them in bright peals like a bell.
“Oh,” Wei Wuxian said, eyes catching on something out in the water. “They’re here.”
They were. Lan Wangji could feel them in the water, the gentle music of their voices having brushed along his scales in greeting. He didn’t respond yet, instead placing one final kiss to the soft back of Wei Wuxian’s hand. “I will be back,” he said—a reassurance to both of them.
There was an impatient slap of a fin in the water—his uncle, no doubt. Indecorous behavior, but Wei Wuxian always had seemed to bring out the worst in him. Wei Wuxian’s eyes flicked worriedly away from Lan Wangji’s, back to where Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen waited. “I know you will,” he said. “I’ll be waiting. But don’t leave your Wei Ying alone in the cold for too long.”
“I will not.”
With effort, Lan Wangji released Wei Wuxians hand, turning to swim toward his family, when—
“Wait!”
He stopped, turning back to Wei Wuxian, who had dropped to the ground, rummaging through his pack. “I brought it, it’s in here somewhere—hang on, I just—ha!” He whooped in triumph as he pulled out a spray of long-stemmed blue flowers, not quite fully bloomed. “It’s… it’s for her,” Wei Wuxian said as he held them out to him. “They should be okay, under the water. I’ve dipped the paper in wax, so it should be waterproof.”
Lan Wangji took the bouquet, reading the talisman that was tied around it with a white ribbon. “Wei Ying…”
“Like I said,” Wei Ying gave him a lopsided smile, nearly bashful, “next time, it’ll be ready for me to go with you. But until then… I hope she likes them.”
“She will.” Of all the gifts and all the beautiful things that Lan Wangji had brought to his mother’s grave, he was certain that none had ever been so precious and beautiful as this. “Next time, we will give them together.”
5.
Despite the distance, Lan Wangji did not idle in Lotus Pier every day. Usually, he made the journey between Gusu and Yunmeng weekly, taking care not to fall behind his duties at home, lest it give his uncle more reason to complain about the bad influence of Wei Wuxian.
On the days when he traveled back to Gusu alone, Wei Wuxian slept on the pier, making a nest out of whatever cushions and soft things he could drag with him before Jiang Wanyin took notice and inevitably began to berate him for sleeping outside “like a dog.”
“A dog he called me, Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying had wailed to him the last time it had happened. “Me! As though I’m some vicious street mongrel!”
Lan Wangji had hummed in sympathy, but had not dared to say more. It was best, he had learned, not to speak his true thoughts when it came to Jiang Wanyin.
This morning had been the same, as he had kissed Wei Wuxian awake to bid him goodbye before he left for the week. It was never easy, being separated for so long. Though he had just seen Wei Wuxian that morning, Lan Wangji’s heart already ached with the distance as he went about his tasks in Cloud Recesses. The juniors were a distraction, at least, but he still felt dull, his world a little dimmer as he labored away the hours until he could return to Yunmeng.
Despite his mood, it was not lost on Lan Wangji that the others were acting strangely. The junior disciples, usually well-mannered and focused, seem distracted. More than once during class he had to remind them to study in silence, interrupting the whispers hidden behind their hands.
He might have written it off as a strange mood that had struck the young people, had he not seen Uncle swimming up to him, only to stop short, his face turning pink as he huffed a stream of bubbles, before turning and swimming quickly in the other direction.
Later, when Lan Xichen smiled at him and asked if Wei Wuxian had done his hair that morning, Lan Wangji had reached up and felt the petals of a flower. Wei Wuxian had insisted, despite the sleep he had yet to blink from his eyes, that he wanted to do Lan Wangji’s hair, and Lan Wangji would deny Wei Wuxian nothing.
That evening, as he removed his guan, Lan Wangji made sure to set it delicately aside so as not to dislodge the beautiful magnolia tied onto it, determined that it should last for the whole week.
+1
“I’m ready,” Wei Wuxian said as he waded into the cold springs, robes discarded in favor of the long tunic the Lan sect wore, paired with trousers for his own modesty. “I’m glad I wrote the part in for warmth, I wasn’t sure I would need it in the summer—is the water this cold year-round, er-gege?”
“It is colder in the winter,” Lan Wangji said, repressing the urge to drag Wei Wuxian into the water. He had waited a year to bring Wei Wuxian to his home beneath the water. He could be patient for another minute.
Wei Wuxian shook his head disblieveingly, then took the chain necklace from his pocket, to which he had attached a wax-sealed talisman. “Well. Here goes nothing. If it turns me into a turtle or something, promise you’ll still love me?”
“I will,” Lan Wangji said without hesitation. “But it will not.”
Wei Wuxian laughed, then, taking the talisman in his hands, activated it with a small spark of spiritual energy.
It worked. Of course it worked. Lan Wangji had never doubted Wei Wuxian’s abilities, nor his inventions. Still, as they swam deep into the Cold Springs, diving for the gate of Cloud Recesses, it felt something like a dream.
He kept a firm grip on Wei Wuxian, both to remind himself that this was real, and to assist as they swam deeper beneath the lake. Wei Wuxian was a strong swimmer by terrestrial standards, but his tails were heavy beneath the water, and Lan Wangji had insisted that he leave them out. He wanted Wei Wuxian’s first visit to be a pleasant one, and didn’t want him hampered by the concealment.
Wei Wuxian was a perfect guest—at least, by Jiang standards. He complimented everything and everyone, he expressed wonder at every corner, he laughingly introduced hismelf to every person he met. Uncle would not approve, of course, but it warmed Lan Wangji to see Wei Wuxian’s delight at Cloud Recesses.
The jingshi met similar praise, Wei Wuxian bubbling with excitement as he probed into every cun of Lan Wangji’s home. “Do you need anything?” Lan Wangji asked after Wei Wuxian had finished his fifth circuit of the room, having peeked into every crevice and beneath every piece of furniture.
“Lan Zhan, of course not! It’s perfect!” Wei Wuxian enthused, just as his stomach rumbled loudly. “Ah. I mean. Maybe some food?”
“I will get some,” Lan Wangji said. “It will not take long.”
Lan Wangji returned with food a little while later, having had little trouble coercing the kitchen staff into preparing something, though it was not yet mealtime. The fascination with their strange guest was cause for greater leniency than was generally afforded, it seemed. That, and the challenge of predicting what would be suitable to the fox’s palate. Lan Wangji had provided what guidance he could, though he had little hope that Wei Wuxian would find the meal particularly to his liking.
He entered the jingshi to find Wei Wuxian sitting on the floor, holding the book of flowers he had given to Lan Wangji a year ago. He smiled up as Lan Zhan entered, waving the book at him. “Lan Zhan, you know, I always wondered where you kept it!”
Lan Wangji swam over, placing the meal at Wei Wuxian’s side, hoping to distract him.
“You copied that talisman? I’m glad you were able to keep it with you, you know. I always thought that—what’s this?”
A page floated out of the book between them, Wei Wuxian plucking it before it could get too far to take a closer look. “Lan Zhan—is this the drawing that I gave you, back when we first met?”
Lan Wangji could feel his ears heating as he hummed in assent. Wei Wuxian laughed in surprise. “Really? Lan Zhan, you kept it this whole time? I was sure you’d torn it to pieces as soon as I gave it to you—you hated me so much back then.”
Lan Wangji could not let that stand, no matter how much face this cost him. Taking Wei Wuxian’s wrist in his hand, he shook his head. “I did not hate you.”
“Lan Zhan! I thought lying was forbidden! I annoyed you so much back then, you can’t deny it!”
Lan Wangji merely shook his head again as he floated before Wei Wuxian’s bent knees, giving his wrist a gentle squeeze. “I was not used to it. The attention. But it was not unwelcome.” He caught Wei Wuxian’s eyes, and saw the fox draw in a reflexive breath, despite being beneath the water. “I always liked Wei Ying’s attention.”
“No, stop that! You have to warn me, er-gege! In writing! No springing sweet things on your Wei Ying!”
“Mn,” Lan Wangji said.
“Was that agreement? That didn’t sound like agreement.”
Lan Wangji merely hummed again as Wei Wuxian groaned, throwing his free hand—the one holding the book—over his eyes, the picture of an aggrieved lover. “How cruel! My Lan Zhan cares not for his poor Wei Ying’s heart… What’s this?”
Between the pages of the book, a blue flower slipped free. Wei Wuxian sat up straighter, taking his time now to turn through all the pages of the book. Lan Wangji stayed perfectly still as Wei Wuxian discovered page after page of pressed flowers, each with a preservation talisman carefully attached.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian said quietly as he reached the end. “How did you… are these from… other admirers?”
Lan Wangji sighed, one of Wei Wuxian’s tails curling around him as he took the book, slipping each flower back into place. “No,” he said. “Not from other admirers.”
“Then they’re…”
“From Wei Ying.”
“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian yelped, spinning on him, then tipping backwards as he overbalanced, unused to moving quickly in the water and the momentum of his tails. Lan Wangji grabbed him, holding him tight as Wei Wuxian looked up at him through thick, soft lashes. “There’s so many of them!” he protested, smacking his hand weakly against Lan Zhan’s chest. “Did you… all of them?”
“Yes.”
Wei Wuxian whimpered, his ears twitching, tickling against Lan Wangji’s nose. “You liked them that much?”
“I did.”
With a sob, Wei Wuxian threw himself into Lan Wangji, burying his face in Lan Wangji’s tunic. Lan Wangji held him tighter as Wei Wuxian groaned. “That’s it,” he mumbled into Lan Wangji’s chest. “I’m going to give you all the flowers, Lan Zhan. Every flower I see. I don’t care if it’s someone’s garden. If they try to stop me, I’ll just tell them that it belongs to you! It’s the rules. Can you add that to the wall? ‘All flowers belong to Lan Wangji.’ You should do it, Lan Zhan. It’s a good rule.”
“Wei Ying.”
“I’ll do it, you know,” Wei Wuxian said as he pulled back, looking up into Lan Wangji’s eyes. “I’ll pluck every flower in the world for you. You’ll have to get so many more books to put them in.”
“Then I will,” Lan Wangji said, pulling Wei Wuxian in to kiss him, until the meal and the book were both forgotten.