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Chapter Text

Even before Jiang Cheng drew his first breath the nursemaids had already declared his birth an auspicious one.

A child that has both Ying and Yang energy, a good omen – a male omega. His mother had pressed him to her bosom as her labored breaths fought with the pain she felt. But she smiled triumphantly, the blood and tears forgotten. She had birthed the perfect heir.

For male omegas born into esteemed families were rare – rarer than the alphas and the betas even rarer than the prized female omegas that mothers gifted for the highest bet amongst the suitors. A male child capable of birthing heirs was the ultimate weapon in a noble’s arsenal.

And so it went without saying that esteemed Sects followed suit. Jiang Cheng’s birth had been celebrated amongst the lakes and towns for three days and three nights, the food at the banquets never-ending.

Little Jiang Cheng had lived his blessing for a while, for several years he was the apple of everyone’s eye – a precious omen, a gifted child.

That is until his father had brought the dirty bundle in his arms and  Jiang Cheng’s eyes had met the large ones of his new brother.

As they grew older, Wei Wuxian excelled in everything Jiang Cheng had instead lacked. And even in the places where Jiang Cheng was good, Wei Wuxian was better.

It didn’t help that Wei Wuxian was also an omega.

Jiang Cheng tried not to see his failings as the reason his father did not care for him but it got harder the more they grew.

It all came to a head the day the maids had sat Jiang Cheng down and carefully combed his hair, he had wondered what it was all about for it was naught but a normal day. His mother had not warned him of upcoming banquets or esteemed guests visiting and Jiang Cheng was but eleven years old so he was most often than not excluded from the festivities and the etiquette that came with them.

As hands gently spread aromatic oils in the roots of his hair, he could not help but squirm in excitement, something was about to occur and he was in the center of it all. The maids carefully dressed him in resplendent robes, his sash embroidered in beautiful brocade. They had even put a collar around his neck. It was soft leather dyed in the colors of his Sect. A clarity bell connecting it at the front, chiming sweetly every time the boy fretted. Jiang Cheng had wanted to protest. He was too young yet to wear protection but for some reason, his father had explicitly ordered it. The maids giggled as they explained it to him. Jiang Cheng meaningfully stared at their bare necks for they were omegas too – their soft scents calming the boy through the process of dressing up.

“I am bonded, young master,” one had giggled as if she had read his sullen thoughts. “Wanna see my mark?”

“Aiyoo, shameless child,” the older one slapped her companion over the head. “The young master needs not bother with scoundrels such as yourself.” But as she said that she had tugged her collar higher as if it could hide the pink marks on her own neck.

Soon he was dressed and ready. The stiff material of his elegant robes made him nervous and the collar felt like it was squeezing his neck. It was proving harder for him to breathe by the minute as he waited at the northern gates of Yunmeng Jiang alongside his father and a dozen of his elders.

A single boat had drifted, breaking through the mists of the chilly morning. Jiang Cheng had craned his neck, curiosity pinching his insides.

From the boat two lone figures emerged. Dressed in white, elegant as birds in flight they had walked to the procession, but giving the illusion they were gliding above the ground. Jiang Cheng had lowered his head so he could not get a good look at their guests and could only stare at their white shoes wondering how the morning dew had not stained them. Just as he had convinced himself the figures were using spiritual energy to fly, instead of trudge through the mud of the pier, his father softly pushed him up front and for the first time Jiang Cheng’s eyes met those of his guest. He could acknowledge that the esteemed guests were two but his eyes, once locked on the smaller figure, could not look away. It was a boy, older for sure, for Jiang Cheng reached barely at the height of his chest. His long inky hair spilled down his back, swaying with the breeze. His skin was white as smooth jade but his eyes, they had caught Jiang Cheng in their snare and he felt himself falling. To what end he had no idea.

The older figure had coughed and Jiang Cheng’s manners had kicked back in. He clasped his hands and bowed low, introducing himself.

Lan Xichen.

The name of the boy with the warm eyes rolled on Jiang Cheng’s tongue as they drank tea in the ceremonial rooms. The elders had naturally ignored him, but Jiang Cheng was too busy to even acknowledge the fact that Lan Xichen had been included and to feel childish indignation at the thought.

Lan Xichen.

His eyes had been a curious color as the weak sun had hit them – not like gold, no. They reminded him of sugar that had been melted and he was playing with it, feeling it sticky in between his fingers.

Jiang Cheng had been so entranced he could not tell how he ended alone with the very same Lan Xichen that had occupied his thoughts so thoroughly.

The older boy had wanted to lead them away from the stifling stares of their elders but he had wavered the moment he found himself in the sprawling corridors of the main house. Jiang Cheng could tell he would lose them in the maze and huffed a little annoyed breath. He was eleven and he had few companions. For some reason, he felt he needed the older boy to call him a friend, so in his mind, a new urgency was born. He had puffed his chest and grabbed Lan Xichen’s hand in his. The long fingers were cold, but Jiang Cheng ran warm so he hoped to transfer some of his warmth as they navigated their way to the gardens.

Why the younger had chosen that as his destination, he had no idea but he suspected that he really wanted to see the light hit the older’s eyes once again.

Jiang Cheng was eleven and his emotions were churning in his chest like a ship battered by a fierce storm. He did not possess the restraints that came with age so he asked immediately as the trees hid their figures from the chaperoning maids.

“Are you to be my friend?”

Jiang Cheng desperately needed the answer to be a yes so he fidgeted with his sleeves as the older boy considered the words, slightly taken aback by where the conversation had picked.

“Do you wish me to be?” Lan Xichen had answered carefully.

Jiang Cheng nodded vigorously with his head, happily trotting further and further between the little enclosure his mother carefully tended to. The trees were bare, twisting towards the sky in hopes of better times and Jiang Cheng felt regret he could not show Lan Xichen their splendor in spring. He really hoped the boy would come back and see them, thus wanting to visit again and again.

Suddenly something occurred to him and he stopped dead in his tracks almost colliding with the boy behind him. 

“Wei Wuxian is about to be back. He was sent with my Shixiongs.” Jiang Cheng knew the cold was about to creep up his body again.“I was not allowed to go, but then again Wei Wuxian is better than me. Father said so last time. For sure my incompetence barred me from going with them.” He felt bitterly jealous but it was not a new sensation for him so he allowed it to wash over him in waves, waiting for the time to break the surface of this sadness and breathe again.

Lan Xichen seemed confused by the sudden influx of information, but he quickly bent down toward his little companion. “Have you considered that they left you here so you can meet with me? My Uncle told me this meeting had been in the talks since the beginning of the year, so it was sure to happen. I bet your father really wanted you to stay.”

No. Jiang Cheng had not known. A ray of hope blasted through the mists swirling in his chest but the warmth was quickly dampened again. “You are going to like Wei Wuxian regardless. Everyone likes him better. He makes friends easily and even Jiejie chastises me to be more like him.” Jiang Cheng wondered if he should just run and hide somewhere, waiting for Lan Xichen to leave again. What was the use of finding a friend if Wei Wuxian was going to come back anytime now? Jiang Cheng desperately wished for this one boy to be his and only his. Maybe he could hide him somewhere. But Wei Wuxian had always been good at finding his hiding spots.

Lan Xichen smiled at him, clearly not repelled by his sullen nature and unjustified anger. “I am here to meet Young Master Jiang. I do not want anyone else’s company but his.” He tipped Jiang Cheng’s chin up and Jiang Cheng could see the sincerity in those comforting eyes. “I want to be your friend, alright?”

Jiang Cheng was so overcome with emotions and he did not even know why. Maybe it was because he had nothing that belonged to him and only him. All of his possessions got stolen by Wei Wuxian and by the time the other boy returned them Jiang Cheng felt like he did not want to touch them anymore. He did not want it to be this way, but the bitterness once taken root could hardly be expelled by a young boy yet to hit maturity.

The other students of his father all preferred Wei Wuxian too, most of the time they allowed Jiang Cheng to come with them only when his shixiong was also present. As if Wei Wuxian was a buffer for Jiang Cheng’s unpleasant nature and without it they could not tolerate him. Even his sister never started to eat before Wei Wuxian had joined them but Jiang Cheng knew of many occasions that she had allowed the older boy to indulge without waiting on him.

“He is our brother now,” she would say and pat his head as if that somehow made the pain in his chest lessen.

He was far too old to cry but his eyes misted regardless. Lan Xichen noticed. Of course that he did. Instead of berating him, however, he gently cradled his head in his hands, using his thumbs to rub at Jiang Cheng’s soft cheeks.

“I will be yours if you have me.” He promised gently and something in Jiang Cheng had settled. He was far too young to understand the gravity of those words but the gentle aura of the older boy helped him relax. Lan Xichen sat on the ground, unconcerned with the state of his robes, and took the small boy in his arms, setting him in his lap as he would do with his younger brother. He started rocking them both as Jiang Cheng hid his face in the older’s neck far too ashamed to confess how much that simple gesture unraveled him.

Jiang Cheng did not recognize the smell. His mother smelled oftentimes bitter like the way ginger tasted in soup. It was strong and domineering but it held warmth that he relied on even when her anger soured it.

His father rarely released his full scent around his son. But Jiang Cheng remembered the times he was held as he was young and alone. He remembered hints of the smell of freshly cut plants.

Lan Xichen’s smell was sharp but so pleasant, it held a sweetness that beckoned to Jiang Cheng who had unconsciously started to respond by weaving his own weaker scent with it.

The combination was heady and addicting and Jiang Cheng desired. The sudden urge to rub in it, to bottle it so he remembered how Lan Xichen smelled was making him feel dizzy. It was intoxicating to him and he felt like floating, pleasantly bereft of any unpleasant emotions.

They stayed like this for a while, until Jiang Cheng felt the vibrations beneath his hands. He released the white silken robe he was holding onto for dear life and raised his head in an unspoken question. He did not know what was happening and so it took him some moments to connect the dots. Lan Xichen was purring at him. It was gentle and soft and as the older rocked them back and forth he had unconsciously started to purr.

Jiang Cheng was speechless. No one had ever purred at him before. His etiquette teachers had never told him what to do and his family had never been interested in showing him affection like this.

He knew from books and text that purring was something offered to close companions and friends and he realized as he mulled it over, gently entrapped in the warm hands of the older boy, that he loved the feeling of it as he curiously followed the sound with his fingertips on Lan Xichen’s chest and up his throat that the older bared to him with no hesitation.

Jiang Cheng laughed, exalted by the idea of it all.

“There you are,” Lan Xichen followed suit, his laugh mingling with Jiang Cheng’s.

Oh, how Jiang Cheng wished to stay in this moment. He hid his head in the other’s neck once more, this time tightening his hold of the older boy.

Stay, please.

He could not even explain why Lan Xichen mattered but the moment he had locked eyes with him and then smelled his scent he knew deep in his bones that would stay in this earth long after he was gone, that he needed Lan Xichen.

The soft purr transformed into an ugly growl and it broke Jiang Cheng from his pleasant dreams.

The hands around him tightened and the rocking stopped. Jiang Cheng tried to look up but Lan Xichen gently but firmly pressed his head back down, down towards the comforting warmth he had offered.

And then Jiang Cheng heard it.

“Young Master Jiang?”

The growl grew louder, Jiang Cheng could not see it but Lan Xichen was baring his sharp teeth as the maids drew nearer. His eyes were flashing golden and his pupils had shrunken like those of a stalking predator.

The maids were all betas but even they felt the all-consuming pressure and lowered their heads, their knees bending as they all half-bowed in submission. 

Lan Xichen’s smell turned sharper, almost cloying in Jiang Cheng’s nostrils. He chittered in enquirement. Lan Xichen did not respond but his hand snaked up to glide through the braids in Jiang Cheng’s hair as if he wanted to calm his little friend.

“Xichen!” 

Another voice, another growl tore from Lan Xichen’s throat. This time it was long and fierce enough to make Jiang Cheng’s hair rise in goosebumps all over his body.

He heard the exclaims, the concerned chatter behind him.

“Xichen! Release the boy at once!”A new smell broke through, reaching  Jiang Cheng in waves. It was overwhelming and strong, sharp as if it wanted to burn the hairs in his nostrils. Jiang Cheng felt the urge to bare his neck and a confused whine made its way to his lips.

That was nothing in comparison to Lan Xichen, who by now was shaking from the effort to keep posturing even if every fiber of his being was telling him to submit. But his little friend was precious and they wanted to steal him away. So his instincts had run all over the place and incandescent rage circulated through his veins giving him the strength to oppose even his own Uncle.

He could not fight. Not with his precious load in his arms. And he’d loathe to leave Jiang Cheng as if the other would turn to a wisp of smoke if he did. The sweet, sweet smell of the little omega turned sour and Lan Xichen’s instincts completely overwhelmed him. Enough for his Uncle to near them, despite the growls Lan Xichen was emitting.

His Uncle had realized what was happening and the moment Jiang Cheng had released his confused pheromones, he had seen the opportunity to jab his nephew’s vital points, lighting fast like a striking viper.

Lan Xichen had fallen limply like a doll with its strings cut and Lan Qiren had motioned for the maids to tear the young Omega from him.

Jiang Cheng had kicked and bit, shouted and scratched like he was possessed screaming at them as they led him away.

In the aftermath, he had not spoken to his family for days and refused even his sister’s meals.   With time, his skin had turned sallow and pale. He wandered around like a shadow. His heart yearned for that addicting warmth again.

“He’ll grow out of it.” His father has dismissed his mother’s concerns and so for several years, Jiang Cheng had not seen his one friend.

The one person who promised him they belonged together underneath the shadow of the dead trees. 

***

Jiang Cheng experienced his first heat when he was sixteen, studying in Cloud Recesses alongside Wei Wuxian and his other peers from Yunmeng Jiang.

Wei Wuxian was the first to smell it on him and as he realized what it was, had rudely jabbed his martial brother in the ribs. Jiang Cheng threw him a nasty stare, ready to retaliate if this turned out to be one of those tumble sessions Wei Wuxian randomly sprung at him. Instead, he saw worry on the older’s face and he raised an eyebrow in question, feeling anxiety grab him by the throat. 

“Jiang Cheng…you,” Wei Wuxian looked around hurriedly and then dragged his shidi into an empty room along the hall they were traversing. Jiang Cheng had been so worried about what Wei Wuxian had seen, he did not even protest this breach of the rules. “You smell,” Wei Wuxian hissed at him, he thrust his nose near Jiang Cheng’s neck before the other had the time to deny it, and very demonstratively took a deep breath.

“Cut it out,” it was Jiang Cheng’s turn to hiss at him, also adopting a lower tone of voice, unconsciously mimicking his shixiong. “I bathe as much as you do.”

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes with impatience and jabbed his finger at Jiang Cheng. “You smell sweet,” he said, his voice tinted with a certain doomed finality. 

Horror had swept through Jiang Cheng and he immediately looked around once more, as if the room had somehow changed he did not see a dusty classroom anymore but a dangerous terrain he had to cross.

“How long do you think?” He tried to hide his panic but he felt it scratching up his back.

“I’ll take you to our rooms, no wait I have to call a Senior,” Wei Wuxian was walking back and forth a second away from grabbing at his unruly hair and tearing. “What do we do?” He sounded horrified and Jiang Cheng refrained from sharp remarks, knowing full well Wei Wuxian would have his own first heat spring on him out of nowhere.

“I’ll go back to the room,” he said and pushed Wei Wuxian to the door. “Call someone from the household and tell them to bring the incense.” His mother had drilled the rules in his head from the time he was ten.

“Cheng Cheng, it is not a good idea to go alone,” Wei Wuxian had hesitated and it only served to aggravate Jiang Cheng even more. “Just go,” he snapped and slipped out of the elder’s grasp as he headed down to their rooms.

He could make it for certain. He tightened his collar as if it could offer him some security and then he realized it might attract even more stares. Touching your collar least you were fixing it was viewed as highly provocative and that was the last thing Jiang Cheng wanted at the moment.

He had less than fifteen minutes of walking but he had not been prepared for how fast his heat was setting in. He was sweating and as such he knew his smell was even stronger. For now, the gardens were deserted but the moment someone walked by they would know.

He hastened his steps.

No running. No running . He told himself but at the very next moment, he felt slickness gush from his nether regions. He knew it was not blood, for he could taste the sweet scent of his own smell; it was so potent.

He ran.

And kept running feeling like a rabbit in a chase. The people at Cloud Recesses were well-mannered and strict. He tried consoling himself with that fact. No one would dare. He took a shortcut through a wooded area, not thinking at all. The only thing that mattered was to escape from the eyes of everyone around him.

Omegas had to be near their pack. If he had been home his smell would have alerted his close ones much sooner. Wei Wuxian had just been too distracted to notice and he, himself, had never experienced a heat before, so now it was too late. A cramp spiked in his belly so sharp, he tripped and doubled over propping himself on a nearby tree.

His hands were shaking and his raspy breaths were too loud for his comfort. It was getting hard to concentrate. With wavering steps, he tried to shorten the distance to his room once again. Inside, he would be safe. He’d lock the doors, slap an array and open only when the healer arrived with all the items he needed. Then the servants of the household would alert his elders and someone would lock his rooms from outside as well, making sure no intruders could get to him.

He knew most of the omegas that monitored his kind were in the women’s section of the Sect so he was well aware he had to wait and pray no one would snap his weak array in the meantime.

His pants were soiled by now and his stomach was cramping. The pain was horrid, and soon he realized it was not pain. Heat spread through him, all-encompassing and consuming. It was like an itch but it hurt like he was being branded with a hot poker over and over. He whined like he had not done since he was a child. He wanted to be back home. He wanted to lie down and rub himself to alleviate the itch spreading in between his legs.

His thoughts were getting more and more muddy, his steps – uneven and slow, and as such he had not noticed the figure creeping up towards him from the shadows. By the time Jiang Cheng caught the scent of the aroused alpha it was too late. Someone jumped on him and pinned him to the ground. Jiang Cheng tried to struggle but he felt as if all of his strength had been sapped out of him. He tried to reach for his spiritual energy as well but he could simply not concentrate enough to read his own body, the heat was wrecking it too thoroughly. Someone growled above him and Jiang Cheng’s head snapped back faster than he could blink, his throat bared to his attacker. It was a man, or maybe a boy a few years older than him, dressed as a servant.

Of course, no cultivator would attack him. They had years to practice self-control, but he had not accounted for the servants.

Horror swept through Jiang Cheng. The man tore his collar, his arousal giving him strength he did not usually possess. Jiang Cheng’s teeth snapped aiming for the flesh, but he missed and the alpha growled at him again. It was like someone locked his muscles or jabbed at his acupoints.

The dawning realization of the true power of an alpha made him shudder in terror. He was about to be destroyed and he could not even move an inch as one of the hands kept pinning him down.

The man was salivating, his smell sharp and unpleasant. His free hand roamed over Jiang Cheng’s body until it grappled with his belt, trying to unwind it.

That was enough to spur the omega into action and Jiang Cheng weakly began to struggle again. His hands sank into the sleeve of the man as he moved his own hand around Jiang Cheng’s neck and squeezed in a warning. A warning Jiang Cheng did not heed and he scratched like a man possessed. It was hardly enough to stop a half-feral alpha, but Jiang Cheng’s legs were pushed underneath the body of the man so he could only feebly tear at the skin and cloth he could find.

The hand squeezed harder as if the alpha did not care if he was breathing for what was to follow. Jiang Cheng himself did not know the answer. The other hand sneaked into his trousers, the omega closed his eyes in revulsion, so he missed the moment when another figure slammed into the body of his attacker. A growl so fierce it made even the small animals around them submit ripped through the air. It was a terrible thing, almost pained in its rage. Jiang Cheng’s eyes snapped open the moment he felt the heavy weight on him disappear. He was disoriented and the pain inside his body had not lessened, in fact, he felt himself on fire as if really wanted to take off his clothes. Instead, he tightened the robe that had half fallen off him, around himself and turned towards the sound of the scuffle.

It was hardly a fight.

Lan Xichen was standing on top of the servant. His eyes – ablaze and mad. He did not seem in control at all as he lowered his head, his teeth snapping at the throat of the other alpha. His scent was overpowering everything else at the moment but the anger was souring it as it carried the message of danger.

The man underneath him stood no chance, but to meet his grizzly fate. Lan Xichen, however, was no ordinary alpha. Jiang Cheng knew that. Knew of Lan Xichen’s reputation and high martial prowess. Of his status of number one alpha amongst the cultivation world and his gentleness that allowed others to flock to him and bask in his light.

But ever since Jiang Cheng had come to study at Gusu Lan, Lan Xichen had been avoiding him like he was marred by a sickness. The alpha never taught his classes and hardly showed up in places Jiang Cheng might be. Jiang Cheng himself, was afraid to breach that chasm that had grown in between them. Throughout the years he had convinced himself that he had acted in a highly humiliating way around the older Lan when he had visited with his Uncle to discuss their arranged marriage. And even though both sides had refused to disband the highly prosperous deal this marriage was, Lan Xichen had neither visited again nor written. And with his behavior when Jiang Cheng had come instead, it was clear the omega had just read too much into the actions of a sixteen-year-old young boy who had a brother and knew how to console spoiled little children.

That was all it had been.

As for Lan Xichen's unusual reactions towards him, he still had no explanation as to why the older alpha had acted so possessive but both his father and mother had refused to answer that question.

Lan Xichen jabbed at the acupoint on the man’s neck and he immediately stopped struggling, falling unconscious instead. Lan Xichen’s low growling did not cease but he stood up from the other alpha, albeit slightly wavering underneath the weight of his own rage. He turned towards Jiang Cheng and as the smell hit him in the face Lan Xichen closed his eyes as if in pain. Jiang Cheng wondered for a moment if he should run or stay.

“I’ll take you to your rooms.” The words were punched out with difficulty from the mouth of the alpha but he was circulating his spiritual energy enough to allow him to withstand that scent that to him was simply undeniable. It was like the wind – always present on the peak of the mountain whispering temptations in his ear. And now it was in his mouth too and he could taste the omega. Lan Xichen wanted to run or to fall on his knees and beg. But instead, he neared Jiang Cheng slowly as if not to spook him and lowered himself slightly. “I will pick you up now, be calm. I’ll give you Shuoyue, if you feel threatened for any reason, slay me with my sword.”

And so with the sword in his hands, Jiang Cheng was carried the rest of the way by Lan Xichen who made his way towards the guest houses carefully, as he scanned the area.

Jiang Cheng finally relaxed, even the pain lessening. Now that they both had calmed down a bit, Lan Xichen’s scent had returned to its previous sweetness that Jiang Cheng remembered in his dreams.

Somehow being near the alpha made his heat abate enough that his mind had cleared a bit. Finally, reality sunk in, and Jiang Cheng shuddered so hard his teeth almost rattled.

The hands around him tightened, “Are you holding up?”

Jiang Cheng managed a weak nod and so they reached the houses of Yunmeng Jiuang and their entourage. A wave of relief swept through Jiang Cheng so strong he wanted to weep. At his instructions Lan Xichen took him to his room. 

“I’ll guard the house until the Healer comes,” he promised, leaving with no goodbye. Jiang Cheng had closed his room, shivering in terror and arousal.

The next few days had been hell. Jiang Cheng had not known what a heat entailed but this for sure had to be the underworld. He writhed on his bed, begging for something he did not know as his lower regions throbbed with desire. The incense burner the healers had brought in repelled any outsiders and diffused his smell but Jiang Cheng hardly had time to think of his safety as his mind was melting in agony.

It was horrid and he hated his body for it. He had rubbed himself with his fingers and learned the spots that made him shiver in pleasure as the fog in his mind subsided.

But the relief was fleeting and he had kept wanting and wanting.

Most of all as he pleasured himself maddened with desire Jiang Cheng remembered the smell of his alpha and the warmth of that one winter day long ago.

Chapter Text

The collar gripped Jiang Cheng’s neck like the fist of an enemy. He tried to loosen it, surreptitiously throwing a quick look at his companion. The figure of the man was tranquil and with his pure white robes he looked like a fallen god, thankfully the eyes of the alpha were closed as he was in deep meditation.

Jiang Cheng resisted rolling his eyes and fixed his collar, pulling at the leather as if it had personally offended him. Putting it in the morning after a week of writhing on his bed in agony mixed with pleasure, made his mood sour even further. Yet, with the years he had slowly built immunity to every herb offering relief in his time of need, so now he was forced to meet his heats head-on with naught but his fingers and fantasies.

“You should be resting,” Lan Xichen’s voice interrupted Jiang Cheng’s morose thoughts. The omega willed the blush away, hoping his cheeks were not stained red already.

Of course, the damn alpha had smelled the heat on him. He softly cursed under his breath. He should have used more scented oils. 

“Your desk is better than the one in my room,” Jiang Cheng fired without thinking. They have had this conversation numerous times by now, and Lan Xichen has yet to win.

He shouldn’t.

Ever since Lan Qiren had sent the letter – one of desperation and humility, Jiang Cheng had been staying in the Cloud Recesses. Lan Xichen’s uncle was smart and he had crafted the most meticulous plan, using all means at his disposal. That was to say he had invited the betrothed omega to his oldest nephew, knowing full well how to exploit the rules of his Sect. No one was allowed to visit Lan Xichen, he refused all requests, even those of his Uncle.

But his betrothed was to stay at his own residence. Those were rules stemming from thousands of years of tradition. And who was Lan Xichen to oppose them? In fact, hospitality was so engraved in Lan Xichen’s bones that for the last month he had had to host Jiang Cheng, he had neither complained nor raised any fuss over it.

But that was all it was. Lan Xichen was the picture-perfect host, but he had been distant. Firmly drawing a line between himself and the omega. And well, Jiang Cheng had no right to push for more. Their betrothal was one of convenience, an old tangled thread barely hanging. It had rotted to simply a memory of a past glittering with safety and comfort.

Before all had gone to hell.

Jiang Cheng had no illusions Lan Xichen had any feelings towards him. Jiang Cheng had never undone the betrothal. He was an omega, he had no right to do so and after the fall of Lotus Pier, during the agonizing years it had taken to rebuild, the omega had harbored a secret hope that Lan Xichen would honor the deal and help Jiang Cheng elevate his status in the cultivation world.

Lan Xichen had done nothing of the sort. Instead, he had entered a sworn brotherhood with the rest of the Great Sect leaders at the time and abandoned Lotus Pier to its own fate.

But Jiang Cheng did not blame him. Now, years later he was proud of all he had achieved on his own and reasoned he would have resented himself if his secondary gender had been all that had saved them. 

Still, even to this day, Jiang Cheng wondered why the alpha had not escaped this binding contract either.

Lan Xichen did not answer. He stood up from his place in the sun and moved slowly across the room. Even his gait was stiff and pained. He looked like a ghost. Maybe that was why Jiang Cheng had had such an easy time invading his personal space. He simply did not act like he was living. Just existing and going through the motions. Jiang Cheng thought he should not have even bothered hiding in his room and locking it for his heat. He could have writhed in front of the alpha and Lan Xichen wouldn’t have reacted.

He almost wished he had. Anything was better than the polite apathy that had settled over the Lan Leader.

Jiang Cheng had neither pried nor tried to crack open the comforting shell of grief Lan Xichen had erected around himself.

After all, he knew from his own experience what it was like. Still, Lan Xichen’s grief was a different thing from the beast that had roared in Jiang Cheng’s soul. It was quiet and unnerving. Never hurting others. All of the jagged edges Jin Guangyao had torn into Lan Xichen’s soul were pointed inwards, digging only into his own flesh.

But Jiang Cheng had hardly given up. He would allow Lan Xichen to grieve but he would like to try and point the daggers outwards.

“What news comes from afar?”

One way to get Lan Xichen out of his own self-sustained punishment was his curiosity. And so Jiang Cheng had gotten to work.

He had never had the patience for scheming. He was not the silver-tongued omega Lan Xichen had adored. But nowadays Jiang Cheng had involved himself in all sorts of sordid tales and bet his own coins on the outcomes to not one or two risky affairs. All because Lan Xichen would perk up slightly if Jiang Cheng mentioned politics, or aired out his own observations about the state of the world at large.

Lan Xichen craved information from the outside, but all he had to rely on was Jiang Cheng’s letters and thoughts. And those did not come cheap.

Jiang Cheng pushed the full cup of tea towards the alpha. It was not an invitation but a demand. Lan Xichen did not make a face, not even his eyebrows twitched in annoyance. He simply took the cup and sipped slowly as if his body had forgotten how to enjoy it. He was practising inedia and only his high levels of cultivation were keeping his body as strong and lithe as if he had never suffered.

Tea did not count according to Jiang Cheng so he prepared a fresh batch every morning and stuffed in it as many herbs as he could. All sorts of plants for health and vitality went into Lan Xichen’s cup.

Sometimes even those for deep slumber found themselves in it.

Jiang Cheng hummed in approval and handed his letter over. He had sent his men all over the land to gather intel. Learned what piqued Lan Xichen’s interest – the state of the villages and a good harvest season usually relaxed Lan Xichen’s furrowed brows.

The alpha greedily soaked in the symbols written on the paper, but the most expensive intel Jiang Cheng kept to himself.

“When I was…detained in my rooms,” Jiang Cheng started, still slightly miffed by his own biology for keeping him for an entire week, “Did you sleep, Sect Leader Lan?”

Lan Xichen stiffened. His fingers gripping the paper in a silent battle he waged in his mind. Yet, not even a moment later the rigid upbringing of the Lan won over. “I may have meditated for most of the nights.”

Jiang Cheng frowned. “ Did you even try?”

Lan Xichen fidgeted for a moment then shook his head in defeat. But he could hardly admit that the thought of the omega on the other side of the wall and the sweet smell of his surrender had not even allowed him to meditate properly.

Jiang Cheng sighed with exaggeration. He toyed with Lan Xichen’s paperweight as he said, “Pity for I have a report of the night hunt escapades of my nephew and the young Lans.”

Lan Xichen wilted as he realized he won’t be getting anything more from Jiang Cheng, but the omega would crack mere shichens later. He always did.

***

 It was not the smell but the slight tremor in Lan Xichen’s hands that alerted Jiang Cheng. He darted from his seat, Lan Xichen did not struggle as the omega tipped back his head.

“Damn it,” Jiang Cheng’s fingers pressed on the rabbiting pulse of the alpha. “Why now?” 

But he knew why, his own heat had triggered Lan Xichen’s rut unexpectedly. This entire soon-to-be ridiculous situation was all because of Jiang Cheng’s nature.

“You can leave,” Lan Xichen breathed heavily, his voice was a brittle, dry thing like it took him an effort to even force the words out.

Jiang Cheng’s eyebrows clouded his face, “You are not eating,” he remarked with more calm than he currently possessed. Panic was stirring in his gut and biting at his chest. “Pray tell me, how are you going to last?”

Lan Xichen didn’t answer. He averted his gaze, but before he did, Jiang Cheng saw resignation in those deep amber eyes that had enchanted him all his life.

Ruts were exhausting. A vicious and consuming sickness of the body. Alphas required so much energy to sustain themselves, that Jiang Cheng could not see a way Lan Xichen would last his if he did not eat. And he hardly believed the Lan Leader would take care of his well-being on his own.

Maybe Lan Xichen would try to meditate it away. Maybe he would perish slowly, overtaken by the desires of his body now that his soul’s desire had been snuffed away.

“No!”

The cry was torn from Jiang Cheng’s chest and it was both a horrid thing and a vow.

“I am staying,” he hissed, but with unexpected strength Lan Xichen grabbed at his wrist. “Go now,” he said, squeezing the hand in warning or a plea, Jiang Cheng did not know.

“It is my fault,” the omega tore his hand away. He hurried to the door and as he opened it, the deserted gardens of the Hanshi bared their brilliance at him. But Jiang Cheng had no time to indulge, he pursed his lips and whistled using his spiritual energy to amplify the sound to a shrill piercing thing that startled all the birds around. They had not yet disappeared in the sky as a hurried young pupil stopped before Jiang Cheng, panting but straightening his back, trying to hide his heavy breaths.

Jiang Cheng rattled a long list of items and slammed the door again before he took notice if the child got it all, but also before the smell of alpha nearing their rut escaped the safety of these walls.

Lan Xichen loomed at the edge of his vision as Jiang Cheng looked for the incense burner he knew should be stacked somewhere in the bedroom. It was sacrilegious to enter someone’s space like that but Jiang Cheng had neither the time to care nor the curiosity to indulge. Panic was gripping his lungs now, squeezing his breaths out shallow and weak. He did not know why he was so scared – was it the possibility that Lan Xichen would refuse him or was it facing the idea of his first time? He discarded those thoughts as quickly as he could.

There was no time to indulge in self-pity.

“Jiang Wanyin,” Lan Xichen warned quietly. He sounded more in control and the omega knew he was circling his chi to expel the effects. Jiang Cheng cursed under his nose the stupid alpha might be in control now but this little stunt would bite him in the ass later. He could not expel the rut through spiritual energy, he was just suppressing it, giving it the opportunity to crack his self-control and flood his mind like a broken dam.

“I know I am not the one…” the words choked Jiang Cheng like river stones. “But this is my fault and I will not let you rot!”

“I do not force omegas,” Lan Xichen said cooly.

Jiang Cheng winced but even if he really did not wish to reveal any of it, he muttered, “I am willing, and besides in a couple of hours you will not have the choice.” He turned to the alpha and neared him, noticing the way Lan Xichen’s eyes flashed a rusted gold color. “Try to fight me, Sect Leader Lan and if you win I will leave with my tail in between my legs.” He was leaning into the alpha now, knowing full well his scent had hypnotized Lan Xichen. In a moment it wouldn’t matter that he was not shorter and slimmer, that he did not smell like the flowers Lan Xichen craved.

“But hurry up and surrender,” he whispered in the alpha’s ear. The next truth he parted with unwillingly. In no other circumstances and especially not in front of this alpha would he ever gift this secret. “I am untouched and I fear once the rut has overtaken you, it might not be enough that I am omega. I need you to be able to think when you open me for the first time.”

Lan Xichen gasped audibly, the glow in his eyes dimming. “Jiang Wanyin, do not do this.” He was begging now, but they both knew it was futile, because of that unspoken thing between them, the thorn that had grown in a hedge – meant to bring them together but torn them apart. A secret they all knew but no one uttered for it was an ugly reality no one wanted to face.

They were fated mates and Lan Xichen was mere moments away from falling down on his knees before the omega fate had gifted him. It did not matter how they felt in all of this, nature had spoken and bound them together with a red string that had suffocated Jiang Cheng ever since he met the alpha for the first time. It had wrapped around his neck tightly and he had felt it every time Lan Xichen had smiled at his sworn brother with adoration that sometimes, in his darkest, loneliest moments, Jiang Cheng wished he owned.

“Who else?” Jiang Cheng hissed but it was a wounded thing – the desperate cry of a small animal as the jaws of the predator locked around it. With a decisive snap, he loosened the collar around his neck, releasing his smell to dance with the sweetness of Lan Xichen’s own pheromones. The Lan Leader growled deep in his throat, for a moment forgetting his speech and thoughts, a mere alpha lured into a trap.

Jiang Cheng divested himself of his clothes in a perfunctory, clinical way. He was in his underrobes by the time Lan Xichen had managed to wrestle his mind back into order. Jiang Cheng turned to him and for the first time since this madness began, he faltered. Lan Xichen had knelt on the ground, baring his throat in submission. The effort of drowning his instincts and submitting had to be extraordinary. Jiang Cheng whined in distress and fell as if his string had been cut.

“Stop fighting it!” 

The omega neared the alpha and nuzzled in that barren, pale neck as if to try and relax Lan Xichen, and indeed, Jiang Cheng hated seeing him like this. He scented the alpha, hoping to clear Lan Xichen’s mind a bit, hoping to relieve the rut. “Do you despise me this much?” came unbidden – a stray thought, a loose arrow that had fallen from Jiang Cheng’s pierced heart and through his mouth in the form of a plea.

A mere wisp of indignation, the sweet scent souring, and Jiang Cheng was on the ground – his arms pinned above his head, Lan Xichen’s hair in his nose, his sharp teeth mouthing at the leather around his neck. “Do you think it is revulsion that has kept me away for so long? Do you think it is not fear? Do you know how much I crave your essence?”

Lan Xichen straightened as his hand danced down Jiang Cheng’s chest. His knees were around the omega’s waist and Jiang Cheng could feel the scorching heat coming off from the alpha. He did not fight though, even if he was pinned like an insect. “It doesn’t have to mean anything,” he tried again. And he would keep trying lest he was forced to take mindlessly.

For the first time since his seclusion, Lan Xichen’s face softened, his guard melting. The hand now traveled up to Jiang Cheng’s face and cupped his cheek. “You are offering me a gift I do not deserve, Jiang Wanyin.”

And it was only then that Jiang Cheng wavered. He was not a fool, he knew what he was offering and what it would cost him. And he was afraid.

He had never lain with anyone, always keeping himself in case…

It did not matter though, it had never mattered to Lan Xichen the way it used to matter to his betrothed. And so with a dash of anger and a heart full of trepidation, Jiang Cheng raised his chin in defiance, his arms still locked above his head, his legs pinned beneath the heat of the upcoming rut and said, “It is mine to give.” That gave him the strength to fight, he surged upwards to crash his lips to those of his alpha.

Lan Xichen’s restraints gave a last valiant effort before snapping clean like a rope. In a moment Jiang Cheng was once again on the floor, this time the body atop him was fully pressing on him as if to consume him. As if Lan Xichen was trying to devour him, the alpha’s mouth took control of the kiss and Jiang Cheng found himself overwhelmed by the intensity of it all, there was a hand tipping his chin and the other had managed to wrestle his last layer of clothing and was exploring his chilled skin, warming it in a new unfamiliar way.

All of it was too much and Jiang Cheng could only whine in the alpha’s mouth. Lan Xichen broke the kiss but it was not mercy he was willing to impose, his lips sucked the skin of Jiang Cheng’s neck next, the sharp teeth working at it in a warning. Once he reached the collar Lan Xichen growled low in his throat and bit the offending leather. Later, Jiang Cheng would find the deep holes in the smooth surface left by the alpha’s canines – a mere travesty of the real mating mark.

Jiang Cheng was at a loss, but the growl had dispersed the mist of pleasure that had clouded his mind. An age-old instinct awoke in him and he embraced the alpha, gently stroking his hair. He spread his legs in full submission, he could feel his entrance leaking in preparation of what was to follow and knew it was enough to appease his lover for now.

Properly distracted, Lan Xichen delved further down. The trail of kisses left, overwhelmed Jiang Cheng – he had never felt as vulnerable or wanted in his life. When Lan Xichen’s lips found his nipple, Jiang Cheng could not hold back anymore, a tingle of electricity crawled up his spine and he arched, pressing that damn mouth closer. He was floating again, the pleasure those hands were wrecking all over his body unexpectedly, like an enemy he had no chance against. One of the hands slithered down to his core, spreading his folds. A finger slipped in.

“Easy, Wanyin.” Lan Xichen whispered in his skin as the omega buckled in confused rapture. The finger skimmed over his cunt almost skittishly but in a moment it was pressing on his clit, drawing lazy circles as if teasing the omega was something Lan Xichen had been craving.

Jiang Cheng felt indescribable pain, no pleasure spike every time Lan Xichen’s digit slightly pressed on his pearl. At the last teasing touch the finger pushed on but did not release immediately. Jiang Cheng could feel his pulse drum in his ears as he also felt it scratch down between his legs. He sighed long and in defeat.

“There you go,” the alpha crooned and his fingers twisted, pinching Jiang Cheng’s clit and making the omega cry out once again.

“P-please,” Jiang Cheng was begging now, lifting his hips into the mercy of the alpha.

“Do you want to come, Wanyin?” 

Jiang Cheng’s body had a mind of its own so it responded where Jiang Cheng was too proud to answer – his legs squeezing Lan Xichen. 

“Hush, omega. I’ve yet to claim my prize,” Lan Xichen muttered and then dove straight for Jiang Cheng’s cunt.

Suddenly those gentle hands were vices around Jiang Cheng’s thighs and a tongue was marking him, swirling around his clit in one moment and plunging in his opening the next. Jiang Cheng’s fingers were in the alpha’s hair, pulling hard at the onslaught of sensations.

It did not last long, the tongue swirled around its prize, but Lan Xichen was insatiable so his mouth closed around Jiang Cheng’s clit and sucked as his long finger made its way into Jiang Cheng slightly crooking to reach a place the omega had never known of. It was too much, with a cry Jiang Cheng peaked into that realm of pleasure he had only ever experienced on his heats. His walls contracted, sucking in the digit that was prolonging his fall for as long as it was possible.

Tears streamed down Jiang Cheng’s cheeks. He was valiantly trying to take in more air, as his muscles had snapped and his back had arched, but Lan Xichen was not relenting. Jiang Cheng’s legs tried to close and end the waves after waves of pleasure.

“S-s-stop,” he whined but Lan Xichen purred happily as he kept pressing in Jiang Cheng. “Tense your muscles, petal,” he engraved the command in the sensitive skin of Jiang Cheng’s thighs and dove right back to servicing the omega. Jiang Cheng did not need to be told, for he was still experiencing the aftermath of his orgasm, still not pliant, still fighting a losing war as the second wave caught up to him. 

This cannot be pleasure he thought deliriously, it was better than the first like an itch someone scratched up in him – a feeling overshadowing everything he knew, one he could get addicted to. But the second orgasm was as short as it was satisfying. Jiang Cheng realized he had thrown his head back – the muscles of his neck cording, his collar fighting him as Jiang Cheng had screamed.

Lan Xichen brought him down carefully, stroking his body light as a feather, if Jiang Cheng had the strength to open his eyes he would have spotted the reverence in the alpha’s stare and the near worship of the act. Instead, Jiang Cheng was being lifted and deposited on the bed, Lan Xichen lighting the incense burner, his head clear for the time being. He would remain alert as long as it took for the thick smoke to fill the room.

They disrobed and soon the tension between them turned to lost kisses in the near darkness of the room. It was a revelation, another language that Jiang Cheng could use to communicate his loneliness and longing. He panted as Lan Xichen broke another one of their kisses, his breaths mingling with those of the alpha. “It will be soon now,” Lan Xichen said, his pupils blown wide but his eyes still the tame color of melted honey. “Are you sure about this?” He asked again as if he had not torn Jiang Cheng to pieces and put him back together just a few moments ago.

Jiang Cheng did not deign that stupid inquiry with an answer, instead pulling the alpha for another breathless kiss, where he could lose himself in the heat of the closeness between them. Lan Xichen’s fingers got to work again, tickling Jiang Cheng’s puffy folds.

“Do it,” the omega barked half out of arousal, half out of fear. The fingers breached him – first the one and then the second, gentle as the dew on summer leaves. Lan Xichen worked him slowly but Jiang Cheng was relaxed after his first orgasms so he only felt the half-pleasure, half-pain of the overstimulation. He sighed, his hands gripping the sheets beneath him, lifting his hips in invitation. A surprised growl left Lan Xichen’s lips and their eyes locked as the alpha’s hand gently massaged the inner walls of the Jiang Sect Leader.

“You feel so good,” Lan Xichen purred in contentment.

“Wha-” Jiang Cheng had no words to battle such shamelessness feeling heat spread through his cheeks, Lan Xichen smirked back at him and lowered his head for one more kiss as he distracted his target. A third finger entered the omega, but he was too busy reeling from the all-consuming passion Lan Xichen was gifting him in this ill-fated affair.

Lan Xichen’s thumb found Jiang Cheng’s clit again, pressing on the little bud with patience. Jiang Cheng mewled underneath him, trying simultaneously to get away and press closer to the teasing fingers. He felt full and stretched out too thin, he did not know if he could peak again but his body was speaking for him – twisting like an erotic dancer underneath the ministrations of the one man he had always wanted. His slick was gushing out, and the fingers in him crooked to press to the spot that made the omega scream.

“Just like that, Wanyin,” Lan Xichen’s voice had gone rough, he seemed on the edge of snapping, his eyes – a rusted gold color.

In the following hours, Lan Xichen would lose himself to the pleasurable mist of his rut but that first time he entered Jiang Cheng he had been gentle and slow, as if he could feel the omega’s uncertainty. And he probably did at some level smell the discomfort Jiang Cheng had hidden.

It had turned into a present for Jiang Cheng. The Jiang Sect Leader, who had come to offer himself on a platter to save the alpha, and instead, here he was, underneath that same damn alpha, lost in waves of passion as the tears streamed down his eyes. 

Lan Xichen had soothed his own rut for a brief moment, a gesture of utmost gentleness. And Jiang Cheng knew for certain he had done this with Jin Guangyao too, that he had been soft and kind, always giving first and taking last.

And as he was brought to ecstasy once more, Jiang Cheng roared his pain. And when Lan Xichen slowly lost himself to the sex, Jiang Cheng almost cried in relief at the bruises left on his hips, at the strength of the thrusts and the pants in his ear.

Jiang Cheng could deal with the almost animalistic dance of the sex, he learned the steps. He fed his alpha – opened his mouth in the rare moments of clarity and gave him sustenance and passion both. 

At the end, an almost cynical idea was the only thing keeping Jiang Cheng going in his mind.  Kept him whole and well enough not to cry and beg his fated mate for scraps of attention – he would give more than even Lan Xichen could. He’d turn the martyr into the executioner, challenge that placid kindness into anger, and mold some of his own understanding on the pristine jade of Lan Xichen’s soul.

He arched underneath those reverent hands, spread his legs every time as if to accept a duel, and watched even as Lan Xichen tried to sink into the oblivion of his wildness, as the ropes of tradition and guilt kept him from losing himself.

In the end, Jiang Cheng could not do it. Even as he had sat astride his naked alpha and rode him, slowly, in a teasing rhythm of push and pull, Lan Xichen had not angered, even in his feral state he had not bitten where he could not leave blood. He did not tear at Jiang Cheng’s collar – he did not take what was his to own.

Long after Lan Xichen had tired and finally succumbed to slumber, Jiang Cheng could not close his eyes. Every time he pressed his legs together he could feel the slight sharp pinch of his core, reminding him that he had given something in return – that he had paid his price in full.

“Alright then,” he muttered into the silence. A slight movement came from behind him, a slight shifting in the air.

“Let’s end this betrothal,” Jiang Cheng said, feeling the hand on his waist tighten its hold. 

Chapter Text

The silence hadn’t changed. Their everyday rhythm was still the same. Jiang Cheng took care of the alpha, and made sure he at least drank. Tried to shake the foundation of grief Jin Guangyao had left. But Lan Xichen’s kind nature was an excellent soil for pain to take root. And his tendency to blame himself for what had happened did not help Jiang Cheng either.

Their betrothal was over. Lan Xichen had not tried to stop him, as if he had been waiting for this moment for the longest time.

He did not try to evict Jiang Cheng either, and Jiang Cheng had no intention of leaving.

Not yet.

As the chasm between them grew, so did Jiang Cheng’s determination to try and destroy the cocoon of grief Lan Xichen resided in. What came out of it, he did not know. Jiang Cheng was not the gentle soul Lan Xichen deserved to nurse him back. But the omega’s constant companion in life was pain, so he’d tried his damnedest to see Lan Xichen through the path to something better. He liked to think he had walked it numerous times by now.

They chat, sometimes for hours. The atmosphere softened and their tongues loosened. They’d talk about the past before. The before and after were marked by the same chalice of tragedy for both. They’d speak of the parts that connected the world but oftentimes they would listen in silence.

It was comfortable.

Jiang Cheng had come to love these moments so much, he’d forget home and water, the roots of the lotuses and his honour spanning from generations passed down to him.

In these quiet pockets of stillness, Jiang Cheng craved and forgot. Undressed duty and responsibility. For a shichen, he’d guiltily wished for another life.

And he realized he was staying not only for Lan Xichen but for himself as well. He was floating in the arms of a long-forgotten dream – a dream of love and freedom he did not possess. 

And as much as Lan Xichen could not tear himself from his pain, so could Jiang Cheng not give up his childish longing.

Maybe this frozen moment of time they spent in the Hanshi suited them both.

Jiang Cheng gripped Sandu harder. The hand that had been gliding down the magnificent blade stopped. A barrier of thin cloth was the only hiding Sandu’s bite. But he had not used his sword in a while. These days he only cleaned the blade, both of them trembling in desire to go and cut.

Lan Xichen had been staring at his xiao for a while. His long fingers toying with the jade instrument. He’d stroke it gently, place it down again, then pick it up as if his hands were itching for it.

It was agonizingly frustrating.

“Just play,” Jiang Cheng muttered and lowered his eyes to his work. The cloth in his hand scraped along the blade. Once, twice.

No movement.

Before Jiang Cheng’s scathing words had the time to emerge, his mouth readily open to unleash them, Lan Xichen spoke, “I do not know songs not meant for battle or healing.”

Jiang Cheng closed his mouth with a click. “So?”

“There is no use in them now,” Lan Xichen smiled, still staring at Liebing.

Jiang Cheng begged to differ. Lan Xichen was ill, the poison of betrayal rotting him from the inside. But he could not say something like this out loud.

Instead, he chose to humiliate himself.

Well, he had done much worse in front of the alpha by now, might as well go full circle.

The song was a simple one – a nursery rhyme. For where Lan Xichen knew of battles and survival, Jiang Cheng knew only how to put his nephew to sleep. It was a silly little verse. But it contained the touch of a mother’s love and the long-forgotten memory of every child as they are held high in the air, secure in someone’s grip.

There was also a magical rabbit, of course.

His voice was scratchy and he missed the notes, more often than he hit them. It was, frankly, a horrendous performance that only his little toddler of a nephew could love.

Yet he sang it again, and beneath the unease, a spark of melancholy spurred him forward.

Liebing joined him.

Skittishly like a child learning to walk, Lan Xichen played into the melody. At first, it was quiet and wavering, but Jiang Cheng raised his voice challenging the alpha to follow. And, to his surprise, Lan Xichen picked the jaunty song up.

For a moment, they harmonized. But the song was short and Jiang Cheng faltered at its end, his voice – an ugly croak.

He winced, sheepishly raising his eyes to evaluate the damage.

There was wonder in the eyes, the color of which Jiang Cheng dreamt throughout the night.

“You can sing?” The question slipped almost reverently. Lan Xichen looked shaken as if the image of Jiang Cheng in front of him had buzzed along its contours, the edges of him unweaving and rearranging anew.

“As much as anyone can,” Jiang Cheng said with dismissal, returning to polishing Sandu.

***

“Have you ever loved, Jiang Wanyin?” 

Jiang Cheng was just about to take a big swig of the jar when Lan Xichen had asked, petrifying him like a stone. The wine sloshed in its confines wetting his now firmly clasped lips.

They were at the ceremonial room of the Hanshi – it had the best views of the gardens Lan Xichen had been confined to and were supposed to be observing the night sky.

Truly just a pretense to get mightily drunk. Jiang Cheng’s idea of course. Lan Xichen had been reluctant at first, but the omega knew how to cajole him by now. Mainly, by refusing to drink on his own. And it worked like a charm. Lan Xichen had been convinced Jiang Cheng was dying to indulge and his kind and soft nature went against seeing someone moping around his home, sighing in mock theatrical longing.

“What kind of love?” Jiang Cheng asked, suspicious of the alpha’s intentions.

Lan Xichen kept observing him for a while, but Jiang Cheng was past the point of caring about the scrutiny. They were naught but friends now, Lan Xichen should not make his heart stir.

“Ah, so you have,” Lan Xichen’s smile was slightly too stretched out to be warm and not pained.

“Why would you ask something so stupid?” Jiang Cheng took his swig of mulberry wine, feeling it go down his throat.

“Does it burn you?”

Yes, yes it did. 

But Jiang Cheng would cut out his own tongue before admitting it. Instead, he decided to be diplomatic, “When a loved one is gone the anchor in your soul will sink deeper and deeper in despair, weighing you with it.” He leaned on the side of the open door they were sitting at, and passed the jar of wine to Lan Xichen so he could fill his cup again. “All I can promise is that in time, the anchor starts weighing less. So in time, you could swim up again instead of down.” He made a vague gesture with the hand holding the wine, spilling precious liquid on the desks beneath them. “But you must be stronger this time around. When you swim up you carry much more weight.”

Jiang Cheng was pleasantly tipsy, floating in the crisp night air, imagining Lan Qiren’s scandalized face if he ever saw the wine spots on his perfect nephew’s floor. “Jin Guangyao might have been a piece of work, but even a bastard has someone to mourn him like that, eh?”

The words spilled out of his mouth without much thought. And immediately, Jiang Cheng regretted it.

Lan Xichen was staring into his own cup long enough for Jiang Cheng’s mind to start working again, albeit a bit slowly. The omega fidgeted in his seat, ready to apologize. Before he had the time to open his mouth and swallow his pride, however, Lan Xichen said,

“We were not in love, him and I.”

With that one confession, it felt like the stars stopped moving in the sky. 

“You are drunk,” Jiang Cheng stated calmly even if his heart was beating wildly.

Lan Xichen shook his head, “Not that much,” he smiled slightly,  swirling his wine lazily.

“He smelled like you, you know.” Jiang Cheng said, because he was angry and because, even if they were not betrothed anymore, he wanted Lan Xichen to feel remorse for what he had done. Now, as he had said something ludicrous like that Jiang Cheng’s truth had tilted and he was desperately wanting to set it right again. “During the Sunshot Campaign, he’d walk around the camps proudly wearing your scent on him.”

“Now, I think I can believe that,” Lan Xichen said, sadness dripping from his voice. “We slept together. He’d help me with my ruts and I, in turn, stayed with him throughout his heats. It started before the campaign, whilst we were on the run. It was our only contact not meant to pain us. A human connection we revered.

But I was not meant for him, nor he for me. We were never lovers, Meng Yao’s fated mate was Nie Mingjue.”

Jiang Cheng balked, sure the alcohol had muddled his brain enough to be hearing things. “Explain,” he rumbled.

“Yes, I do think I owe you that.”

Lan Xichen raised his head towards the stars, and began,

“When Nie Mingjue first saw Meng Yao, he attacked me. It was like something had possessed him, by the time they managed to tear him away from my throat, he had completely lost himself.

Later it all made sense. My smell on Meng Yao had enraged him. No one else could even tell we smelled of one another, but Da-ge was unusually attuned to Meng Yao. He learned to control himself around the omega, but it took time and immense effort. They drew one another like magnets, Meng Yao in particular always opposed Da-Ge just to get a rose from him. Nie Mingjue preferred to close off any feelings and emotions he had towards the omega, but it was a futile effort. They’d end up tumbling in bed after every fight.

The Nie Clan was deeply opposed to such a connection. Maybe, they foresaw what was bound to come. Maybe they had better sense to shun Meng Yao than we did. Whatever the case, Nie Mingjue came to me with a desperate plea. Thus our Triad was formed. I was the tipping scale in that love. Meng Yao was to pretend to be faithful to me, so the Nie Elders could be appeased but those two refused to be separated as well. And so we three swore fealty as I watched them both destroy one another.

My mother and father were the same – bound by fate, torn apart by love.”

Jiang Cheng’s world was rearranging itself the longer Lan Xichen spoke. When he ended up, the omega tipped the jar back and emptied its contents, trying to drown the influx of emotions swirling in his chest.

No wonder Lan Xichen had been wary of him. Yet, this confession could not stitch up Jiang Cheng’s wounded pride, or broken heart. He raised his hand high in the air, the empty jar firmly in his grasp. “A toast to fate. Such a bad matchmaker.”

Lan Xichen did not laugh though. Jiang Cheng was getting too drunk to understand why complicated emotions were flickering over the alpha’s face.

“Jiang Wanyin,” Lan Xichen’s voice was soft as a sigh. “Ever since I first met you, I’ve never wished to own someone as much as you. Your smell lives in the chambers of my heart, keeping it pumping.”

The alpha tipped his own cup and emptied its contents in one go. “I want to devour you every time we meet, open your chest, and ink myself in your soul.”

And Jiang Cheng finally understood. “You are afraid,” he whispered in awe.

Lan Xichen averted his gaze.

Jiang Cheng rose unsteadily to his feet. “Ask me then, go on. Ask me what I think. You owe me that much.”

He loomed over the First Jade of Gusu – a righteous god, resplendent in his drunken anger.

Lan Xichen understood. He raised his head and his eyes locked with those of his omega. “What do you wish for, Jiang Wanyin?”

That was all Jiang Cheng had been waiting for. He leaned into Lan Xichen’s space, his smell invading the omega’s nostrils speaking promises of devotion and possession. “Who said you could ever succeed in owning me?” Jiang Cheng mouthed the words at Lan Xichen’s pale neck, right on the spot where a mating mark was supposed to go.

***

Later, he’d blame Sandu. The blade was itching for a fight. So when Jin Ling wrote a plea to his Uncle to join him and his friends in a Night Hunt, Jiang Cheng wavered.

“You are not bound here,” Lan Xichen had read his mind, but maybe Jiang Cheng’s restless pacing along the confines of the house told him so. “Go and enjoy it.”

And well, Jiang Cheng did not owe Lan Xichen anything anymore so he’d sneaked out of the Hanshi at the appointed night, his blood boiling with the call of the hunt.

The sun was almost rising by the time he made his way back to the house. Jiang Cheng tried to be stealthy and fast, sneaking in like a shadow in the night. Once he reached his rooms he began the laborious task of removing all of the layers he was wearing.

It was a bit hard now that the blood had caked and dried, peeling in painful strips from his skin. He cursed silently. It was hardly the worst wound he had ever received but it was up there, the claws of the yao almost ripping his entire back. The three gashes were crawling all the way down from his shoulder blades to the small of his waist.

“Your steps were heavier than usual,” Lan Xichen said from where Jiang Cheng had left his door open in his haste.

Jiang Cheng startled, too preoccupied with his sorry state to pay attention to his surroundings.

A disciple mistake.

The omega fervently hoped Lan Xichen had not spotted his ruined clothes or the wounds on his back. The lone candle barely threw enough light, so he turned towards his uninvited guest.

“I can tell you tomorrow how it went,” Jiang Cheng was past pleasantries, his skin was burning and he had used most of his spiritual energy to fly to the Cloud Recesses and not bleed to death in the meantime.

Lan Xichen did not seem perturbed by his dismissive words, instead, he glided elegantly into the room – a specter of grace and beauty in the weak light of the candle. “Let me see how bad it is,” his voice – peculiarly low.

“No need,” Jiang Cheng truly did not want to involve anyone in this. “It will heal by tomorrow night, I just need to meditate.”

But Lan Xichen did not listen. In an egregious lack of manners, he crossed the space between them, bending down to take in his hand Jiang Cheng’s discarded outer robe. The blood on it was damning evidence. Jiang Cheng opened his mouth, ready to argue, but Lan Xichen did not give him the chance. 

“Sit,” he commanded and well Jiang Cheng never listened unless he wanted to, but something in the voice of the alpha gave him pause. He decided against aggravating his host and sat at the very edge of his bed.

“Turn around,” a new smell fought for dominance over the smell of iron and the incense sticks. It was heavy and commanding, Jiang Cheng gasped, an age-old instinct telling him to submit – bare his throat and whimper in contrition.

“Wha–” he tried to turn around and confront the alpha, but a hand on his neck stopped him. Jiang Cheng had no time to even resist, the fingers lightly pressing on his mating gland, enticing him, making him want to pant with desire.

“Take off your shirt.” Lan Xichen commanded and between the sharp smell cloying his mind and the unusual dark note in the alpha’s voice, Jiang Cheng complied.

He bared his skin to the watchful eyes of his companion and realised how vulnerable that made him.  It lasted but a moment. Jiang Cheng snorted, remembering that Lan Xichen, at one point, had tumbled in bed with him for days. This hardly mattered.

A slight intake of air and then fingers skimmed over the omega’s back. Their touch was so light, almost not there, but Jiang Cheng was expecting it. His skin pebbled, his pain – forgotten for the time being.

“How did this come to be?” Lan Xichen asked, the bitter smell intensifying once more.

Jiang Cheng waved his hand in dismissal. “ It was hardly my fault, that menace of mine distracted the Lan disciples. Someone had to cover for them. Honestly,” he huffed, the intensity of the situation forgotten, as he felt he was about to rant his frustrations over. “Your little students have no idea how to hunt properly.”

“You jumped in front of them didn’t you?”

Jiang Cheng spread his arms in an exasperated gesture, feeling his wounds prickle. “Someone had to remind them to be vigilant.”

“Wanyin,” Lan Xichen had positively growled this time around and suddenly all – the bitter smell, the constrained voice – made sense.

Lan Xichen was angry.

Jiang Cheng gaped, absolutely flummoxed by such a possibility. He was about to confront the stupid alpha when he felt the cool spiritual energy spill into his body. He shivered, the healing reminding him of another, more intimate touch they had shared.

“Don’t do it again,” the alpha said, his voice now silent, almost gentle again. “Gusu Lan disciples can handle themselves, you are too quick to jump in front of other people.”

“I dare say it was effective,” Jiang Cheng muttered, still reeling by the possibility that his little stunt had mattered so much to Lan Xichen as to make him angry.

Here he had been for months trying to somehow press out an emotion out of the alpha other than his gentleness tinged with pain and indifference and all it had taken was jumping in front of a maddened beast.

The challenge sparked in his veins.

“I’d do it again you know,” Jiang Cheng smirked in the shadows, “help their sorry asses when they get distracted.”  He felt the hand on his skin trembling in response. A slight loss of concentration, the cool stream of healing energy stopped.

“Did you assess the risk posed to my disciples?”

Jiang Cheng shrugged, “there was no time to think.” Smugness made its way to the surface of his confused emotions. He was poking a dangerous bear. “I can hardly wait for these brats to remember themselves before I have to haul their injured–”

“Jiang Cheng!”

Lan Xichen’s smell was overpowering, sitting heavily on Jiang Cheng’s tongue. “Do you think so little of yourself?”

Jiang Cheng whipped towards the alpha in confusion. “How is this about me?” He had thought Lan Xichen was angry with his disciples, at them for their incompetence, and at Jiang Cheng for his own tardiness.

But Lan Xichen looked stricken. A maple tree, bowed down by too much snow. “You never think about yourself do you?” he said, his voice trembling like a shard of glass about to burst into sparkling dust. “That is why you are still here.”

Anger roared in Jiang Cheng’s chest. “I am here because I want to be, it has nothing to do with you. I am a selfish man, Zewu-Jun, do not think too highly of yourself.”

“No, you are not.”

“I told you, do not think of yourself as special, you damn alpha. I care not–”

“But you do, you care so much.” Lan Xichen looked stricken by that revelation. “You foolish man, Jiang Cheng. You foolish tender heart that would throw yourself in front of young disciples and then walk it off, a foolish soul that entangled itself with the likes of me.”

“What do you mean by the likes of you?” Jiang Cheng was so angry he spit the words like poison. “None of what happened was your fault. Can you not see that?”

Lan Xichen’s fervor died down like the sails with no wind to carry them further. “Therein lies the problem, no? I have always walked this path – a blind man, stumbling forth by some miracle. I didn’t even see what was in front of me.”

Jiang Cheng knew the moment the windows closed and the same apathy was about to befall his alpha again. “Fight you, stubborn man,” he uttered with fervor. “Jin Guangyao made us all look like fools, he almost destroyed all of you for his stupid ambitions and a feral bond. Why are you not angry?”

“I do not know how,” Lan Xichen sighed.

That was all it took. With a snarl Jiang Cheng attacked him. 

It wasn’t a real hit, more like a warning and of course, against a man such as Lan Xichen, it was completely useless. The alpha glided away and Jiang Cheng ended up sending a chi blast to the empty wall, shaking the entire foundation of the Hanshi.

But the omega was far from done. They fought like they were dancing, it was ridiculously synchronized as if they had known each other since they were children, as if they had trained as peers and bowed to the same Master. Where Jiang Cheng was a thunder – all sharpness and speed, Lan Xichen was like the tree – welcoming and never yielding. It lasted for moments or maybe a night and a day but in the end Jiang Cheng attacked and Lan Xichen grabbed him in his arms, toppling on the floor with the alpha straddling the omega. 

They observed one another as their labored breaths mingled. Lan Xichen looked wild, his hair was in disarray and red splotches had marred his perfect face.

More than anything for the first time since he had locked himself in here, his eyes looked alive.

“I was so blind,” he whispered reverently, Lan Xichen’s lips almost touching Jiang Cheng’s own.

But the moment was shattered before it was even given the chance to bloom. Jiang Cheng covered the alpha’s mouth with his hand.

“Then go outside and look at the sun for the first time.”

Lan Xichen had no right to his lips anymore and he seemed to understand the implicit command. He bowed his head as if to compose himself and then rose gracefully, extending his arm to help Jiang Cheng.

***

Three days after their fight, Jiang Cheng received a plea to return and for the first time since arriving at the Hanshi, in this little mirage of play pretend he had indulged, Jiang Cheng donned his ornaments and robes once again and, in the middle of the night, left his alpha on his own.