Mischief in Gusu

Chapter 5: Unspoken Bonds and Quiet Moments

The moon had risen high, bathing the Cloud Recesses in a soft, silver light. A serene calm settled over the sect, but the echoes of the day’s events lingered in the minds of those who had witnessed the extraordinary transformation of Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji. After being toddlers for a day, the two cultivators were back to their usual selves, but something unspoken lingered between them—a quiet acknowledgment of their unbreakable bond.

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian strolled leisurely back to the Jingshi, their footsteps almost in sync, a natural rhythm they had developed over countless walks like this. The night air was cool, filled with the faint scent of jasmine and pine, carrying with it the soothing sounds of crickets and the occasional rustle of leaves. The tranquility of the Cloud Recesses was a stark contrast to the chaos that had unfolded earlier, and both men seemed content to simply bask in the quiet.

Wei Wuxian, ever energetic, swung his arm as he walked, glancing up at the night sky. "It’s strange, isn’t it, Lan Zhan? One moment we were small, and now… it’s like nothing changed. But it felt… different."

Lan Wangji hummed in agreement, his gaze fixed ahead but his mind clearly elsewhere. The experience of being a child again, even for a short time, had stirred something deep within him—memories of a simpler past, tinged with both sorrow and solace. He had seen a glimpse of what it might have been like to grow up alongside Wei Wuxian, a chance stolen from them by the twists of fate and time.

"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji began softly, his voice carrying a rare vulnerability that only Wei Wuxian ever got to hear. "Did you… enjoy it?"

Wei Wuxian turned to him, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "Being small again? Yeah, I did." His voice was gentle, lacking the usual teasing lilt, as if the day’s events had nudged him into a more reflective state. "It reminded me of… simpler times. Before everything got so complicated."

He paused, his eyes drifting towards the moon, its pale light illuminating his features in soft relief. "But you know, Lan Zhan, what I realized most is that, no matter what age we are, or what form we take… being with you feels the same. Safe. Like… home."

Lan Wangji’s steps slowed, his eyes flickering with a mix of surprise and something deeper—an emotion he rarely let show, even to himself. Wei Wuxian’s words struck a chord, resonating with the quiet truths he often kept buried beneath his composed exterior. To Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian had always been a beacon, drawing him out of the shadows of his own rigid upbringing and into the light of his own emotions.

"Mn," Lan Wangji murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t need to say more; Wei Wuxian understood. They continued walking, the silence between them not uncomfortable, but rather filled with the weight of shared memories and unspoken sentiments.

As they approached the Jingshi, the familiar sight of the small, tidy courtyard greeted them. The moonlight cast soft shadows across the wooden floorboards, and the gentle breeze stirred the chimes that hung near the entrance, producing a soothing, melodic sound. Wei Wuxian hesitated at the doorway, his hand resting on the wooden frame as he looked back at Lan Wangji.

"Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian said suddenly, a spark of mischief returning to his eyes. "Remember when I made that flower crown for you? I think it suited you. Maybe I should make another one sometime."

Lan Wangji’s lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile playing at the corners. "It was… acceptable," he replied, his tone deadpan, but his eyes held a gentle warmth.

Wei Wuxian laughed, a bright, carefree sound that seemed to chase away the remnants of the day’s tension. "Only acceptable? I’ll have to try harder next time, then," he quipped, stepping into the Jingshi with a lightness that belied the weight of his past.

Inside, the Jingshi was as pristine as ever—minimalist, yet comfortable, with a soothing atmosphere that Lan Wangji had carefully cultivated over the years. The room was filled with the faint scent of sandalwood incense, and the soft glow of candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls.

Wei Wuxian settled onto the floor cushions, his posture relaxed as he leaned back on his hands. He watched Lan Wangji move around the room, his motions deliberate and precise as he prepared tea—a ritual that always seemed to calm him. As Lan Wangji poured the tea, the quiet clinking of porcelain filled the room, blending seamlessly with the gentle crackle of the candles.

"You know, Lan Zhan," Wei Wuxian began, accepting a cup of tea from Lan Wangji with a grateful smile, "I’ve been thinking… today was like a little reminder. That no matter what happens, or how much time passes, some things never change."

Lan Wangji sat opposite him, his gaze steady as he listened. "What do you mean, Wei Ying?"

Wei Wuxian took a sip of his tea, the warm, earthy flavor grounding him. "I mean us. Even as kids, we just… fit. Like two puzzle pieces that were always meant to be together. It’s funny, isn’t it? We were toddlers for a day, and yet… it felt like we’d known each other forever."

Lan Wangji’s eyes softened, his usually impassive expression giving way to a rare openness. "Wei Ying, I believe… we were always meant to find each other. In every life, in every form."

Wei Wuxian’s heart skipped a beat at the quiet conviction in Lan Wangji’s voice. It was moments like these that reminded him of why he had fallen for Lan Wangji in the first place—the unwavering support, the quiet strength, the way Lan Wangji’s presence could calm even his most restless thoughts.

A comfortable silence settled between them as they drank their tea, each lost in their own reflections. For Wei Wuxian, it was a rare chance to simply be—without the burdens of his past or the expectations of the future. For Lan Wangji, it was a moment of quiet contentment, knowing that the person he cared for most was right beside him, sharing in this simple, peaceful reprieve.

After a while, Wei Wuxian set down his empty cup, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Lan Zhan, do you think… we’ll ever have a normal day? Just the two of us, without any chaos or surprises?"

Lan Wangji considered this for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "Perhaps," he said eventually, his voice gentle. "But even if we do not, Wei Ying, I am content. As long as we are together, any day is… enough."

Wei Wuxian’s smile widened, his heart full as he reached across the table to take Lan Wangji’s hand. "You’re right. And anyway, who needs normal when we have each other?"

Lan Wangji’s grip tightened ever so slightly, a silent affirmation of Wei Wuxian’s words. They sat there, hands clasped, two souls intertwined in a quiet promise that transcended words and time.

Outside, the night deepened, the moon casting its gentle light over the Cloud Recesses, a silent witness to the bond that had weathered so much and yet remained unbroken. In that moment, as they sat together in the warm glow of the Jingshi, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji knew with absolute certainty that, no matter what the future held, they would face it together—side by side, heart to heart, always.