WangXian Oneshots

Lost In Thought

Lan Zhan closed his eyes as his mind started to wander. It was obviously late in the night and he was clearly not minding (nor caring at this point, thanks to a certain someone) the 9 to 5 schedule imposed by his sect. Even though he rarely spoke, his mind was gushing out a million thoughts that could not be spoken. Even before Wei Ying had come back, he could not stop himself from thinking of that man who just irritated the life out of him.

And yet, he loved him down to the core. He even let the said man touch his forehead ribbon (according to one of the witnessing disciples who was talking about it one time when he had just sobered up and was eavesdropping into their conversations). It was surprising for the disciples but then again, he was drunk but no one noticed any difference in his temperament. That alone made others (who were not part of the sect) think they truly can handle their liquor.

(Wei Ying could vouch otherwise.)

This Wei Ying—the Yiling Patriarch, the Grandmaster of the Demonic Cultivation, the only man who dares to smuggle Emperor Smile into Cloud Recesses whenever he had the chance—highly infuriated his Uncle and his sect. Yet, Lan Zhan could only find himself getting more infatuated by him. He was falling deeper and deeper into the pit he dug himself.

How? He has yet to figure that out himself as well. But he theorizes that Wei Ying was the only one who could ever bring any excitement and joy in his life.

When that stupid idiot got himself killed by his shidi (that's what the cultivation world had been whispering about), Lan Zhan couldn't help but mourn for the lazy (yet outstanding) person he loved. He mourned for thirteen long years, playing Inquiry in hopes of finding—or even hearing at this point—news of his beloved. Lan Zhan never got to say anything to Wei Ying, and he mostly regretted about it too.

Sometimes he wondered if it was a good thing that Wei Ying could read his mood nearly as well as his brother can. Nimble fingers blessed with the ability to play Chenqing grazed it's presence upon his lover's face. His eyes snapped open.

"Lan Zhan, ah," Wei Ying whispered, sleep still evident in his voice. "Why are you still up so late? Come back to sleep."

"Wei Ying." He looked at his husband whose face was buried into his chest and lazily drawing circles and other shapes to it. Wei Ying let out a tired huff before hugging Lan Zhan tighter, bringing himself ever closer than they already were (which is already quite close).

"Mn…"

Lan Zhan closed his eyes again. He reassured himself in his heart and let himself slip a miniscule smile onto his face.

He's here, he's alive, he's breathing, he's with me. He's in Gusu.

Wei Ying.