During the wedding tea ceremony, it is only attended by their closest friends and family. In place of their parents’ places, their tablets have been arranged in their honor.
For Wei Wuxian, Jiang Fengmian and Madam Yu had flown from Lotus Pier just in time for the wedding, seated beside Jiang Cheng and Shijie. As for Lan Wangji, Lan Qiren, who had declared Wei Wuxian to be the bane of his existence but also a fervent companion in pursuit of knowledge, and Zewu-jun had sat on the opposite side of the table.
It goes smoothly, smoother than Wei Wuxian had initially thought it would be, but he’s probably too distracted by the sight of Lan Wangji in robes.
They head to the main hall for the banquet and is greeted by the sight of welcoming and curious expressions.
Most guests, as Wei Wuxian knows, are only here to discover who it is exactly that caught the attention of the esteemed Hanguang-jun. After years of remaining a bachelor, a traveling bachelor at that, they wonder why it was Wei Wuxian, the head disciple from the Jiang sect, that finally pushed him into marriage.
Wei Wuxian doesn’t really care about those or the rumors that thave sprouted because of them. As long as he can marry Hanguang-jun, he’s happy to let those words bounce off his back.
The rest of the wedding banquet is a combination of familiar and new faces, greetings and gifts, dishes that his husband—husband!—feeds to him by hand, and the sheer volume of joy that he feels bubbling within his chest. Happiness soars through his veins, his cheeks hurting from the amount of smiling he’s doing, and he can’t help the overflow of affection for the person who bowed with him in front of the heavens and earth.
“Husband,” Wei Wuxian calls softly, caressing Hanguang-jun’s cheek as they head to the Jingshi. His new husband had swept him off his feet the moment it was polite to do so, earning cheers and catcalls from the audience. Wei Wuxian didn’t dare hold back his giddy laughter.
The main path is decorated with endless swathes of red fabric, red banners, red lanterns—everything red. It’s a stark contrast to the main blue and white theme of the Lan sect; the colors seem more vivid and bold, especially in the dimming light of the afternoon.
“Hmm,” Hanguang-jun hums in reply, briefly tightening his hold. His eyes had never left Wei Wuxian all throughout the wedding and even the banquet, only flicking away when greeting the other Lan elders and the Jiang family.
Lan Wangji opens the door to the Jingshi with a burst of qi and sets Wei Wuxian down after sealing them shut inside, winding his arms around his waist and drawing him into a warm embrace. Wei Wuxian wriggles further and breathes him in. His heartbeat is erratic, blood rushing through his ears in equal parts excitement and anticipation.
“Hello,” Wei Wuxian murmurs. At first, he doesn’t know if he's actually heard, but a hand cups his chin through the fabric of the veil and tilts his head upward. Gold meets his gaze, blown pupils almost swallowing the color.
Hands tug at the edge of the veil and removes it, revealing Wei Wuxian’s face to Lan Zhan for the first time that day.
Hanguang-jun doesn’t answer him and instead, he pulls him into a devastating kiss, sweet yet bruising, a foreshadowing of what is to come. Wei Wuxian dives into it fully, returning the passion with ferocity. They kiss for a long while until the seconds blur into the background, teeth clashing and sweeping over lips, tongues tangling and dancing with each other.
Wei Wuxian leans back a little, struggling to catch his breath. His mouth is wet and slick and watches Hanguang-jun’s eyes flicker to them before returning upward.
“Gege,” Wei Wuxian breathes out. “Why don’t we try for a young one now? It’s better to do it while the marriage is still fresh, after all. What if laoshi won’t find me attractive anymore when I grow old and wrinkly?”
