Moonlit Hearts

Chapter 20: Haunted by Memories

Wangji materialized beside the water fountain, his arrival heralded by the gentle flutter of butterflies slipping from his sleeves, their delicate wings shimmering in the moonlight before settling into stillness. To the untrained eye, they were nothing more than intricate tattoos adorning his arms—a subtle deception that allowed him to move unnoticed among mortals. "Rest well," he murmured, his fingers tracing their fragile forms before they vanished from sight.

His gaze swept across the quiet courtyard, but Wei Ying was nowhere to be found. Though part of him had anticipated this absence, a sliver of hope had lingered—hope that the elusive man would be waiting. With a quiet sigh, Wangji seated himself at the fountain's edge, trailing his fingers through the cool water. The sensation stirred something within him, a distant memory rising like mist on the surface of a dream.

This fountain had been their first creation, a symbol of serenity born from their shared will. He could still recall the night it all began—a time when their ambitions intertwined, forging a sanctuary beyond the reach of the waking world.

On that particular evening, exhaustion clung to Wangji as he returned to his quarters, the Jingshi. Yet the weariness melted away at the sight that greeted him. Wei Ying lay sprawled across his bed, half-buried in a sea of books and parchment, utterly absorbed in his studies.

"Wei Ying?" Lan Zhan's voice was soft as he approached, his heart warmed by the sight of his beloved.

"Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying's face lit up in a radiant smile as he bounded over to embrace Wangji, his energy infectious. Without preamble, he launched into a fervent tirade.

"Tell me, how is it that you, the God of the Moon, the very Sandman himself, have never carved out a haven of your own? You grant peace and slumber to the weary, yet where do you rest?" Wei Ying's words tumbled out, bright with passion.

Wangji listened in silence, captivated by the fire in his beloved's gaze.

"It's called the Dream Realm of the Dream Maker, but that's so dull!" Wei Ying declared, shaking his head. "You deserve something grander, Lan Zhan. Something worthy of you. With the right spiritual energy, the proper talisman, and your divine power, you could craft a sanctuary—a place meant for you and those you hold dear."

Wangji hesitated. "Wei Ying, I am not certain..." he murmured, wary of unforeseen consequences. But, as always, Wei Ying's conviction was an unrelenting force. He cajoled, persuaded, and finally, with that impish smile that Wangji could never resist, won him over.

Weeks of meticulous study followed. If they were to bring this realm into existence, it had to be undetectable, a place known only to Wangji and those he permitted within its bounds. Their first idea was to use Wangji's forehead ribbon as a passage talisman, but its sacred purpose within the Cloud Recesses made it unfeasible.

"What about your butterflies?" Wei Ying proposed one evening, eyes gleaming. "They're unique to you, always hidden away under your sleeves. Wouldn't it be poetic if they became the key?"

Wangji had been skeptical—until Wei Ying sealed the suggestion with a kiss so ardent it left him breathless. In the haze of affection, he found himself nodding, unable to deny Wei Ying anything.

Thus, the incantation was performed. The butterflies, once mere embellishments upon Wangji's skin, were transformed into living conduits, their delicate forms now imbued with divine purpose. They would guide him and those he chose through the veil of reality, weaving a path between the mortal world and the sanctuary they were about to create.

And so, it was born—a realm shaped by their shared will, a place of undisturbed tranquility. Wangji insisted that it reflect them both, blending their energies into its very fabric.