innocent lotus flower

NEW START

The plane touched down in a smooth glide, but Wei Ying's heart wasn't as calm. He sat still, A-Yuan asleep on his chest, while the cabin lights flickered on. The city skyline outside the window was both familiar and foreign. This was once home, but so much had changed since the night he was pushed out of it—pushed out by the man who now claimed to love him.

Two years ago, Lan Wangji had told him to leave.

It hadn't been a suggestion. It was a command wrapped in cold silence, backed by legal papers and a severance envelope. Wei Ying still remembered the chill in his spine when Wangji had stood over him, handing him a ticket, a check, and a thinly veiled threat.

"Ning Xi will be moving in soon," Wangji had said, voice like glass cracking beneath pressure. "sign the papers and leave and it will be only be that touch you.

At the time, Lan Wangji believed he loved Ning Xi. She was beautiful, refined, perfect on paper—and entirely wrong for him. But Wei Ying didn't know that then. All he knew was that the man he hoped would protect him even if not love him had turned cold, abandoned him, and chosen someone else.  frightened, and desperate, Wei Ying had begged him for one thing in return: anonymity.

"Fake my death," he'd whispered, eyes burning. "Let me disappear for real."

Lan Wangji agreed.

Wei Ying's name vanished from records. A staged accident. A closed-casket funeral. For two years, he was a ghost.

But even ghosts can be found.

They had reunited by accident—an unexpected encounter abroad that was wei ying thought,not knowing lan wangji found him deliberately trying to make amends for his mistakes. Lan Wangji had changed by then, his expression no longer composed but weary, regret written in every glance. He'd found Wei Ying and A-Yuan in a cafe in a small town abroad. They hadn't spoken at first—just stared. Wei Ying had been ready to run. But he had wanted to know why this cruel man had been so distraught so...

He stayed.

For months, Lan Wangji did what he should have done years ago. He listened. Apologized. Cried. Held Wei Ying when the past became too much to carry alone. They didn't rush. There were no promises, no kisses. Just quiet moments, awkward dinners, shared laughter over A-Yuan's tantrums, and a sense of healing. Slowly, trust returned. And eventually, so did affection.

Now, they were back.

It wasn't just for themselves. It was for A-Yuan—who deserved to grow up knowing who he was, where he came from, and to be surrounded by people who cared. Lan Wangji's parents had welcomed them back with gentle arms, knowing more than they said. The mansion no longer felt like a cold fortress, but a place of cautious belonging.

Wei Ying had changed too. He wasn't that bright-eyed student desperate for approval anymore. He was a father now. Quiet, watchful, stronger than he'd ever thought he could be.

Their relationship remained strained—too much history to erase with a smile. But now, they talked. They listened. They didn't pretend the pain wasn't there. And that, in itself, was progress.

Most of the city still thought he was dead. Only the Lan family and the Wen siblings—Wen Ning and Wen Qing—knew the truth. The Wen siblings had stayed in touch throughout. Wen Qing had sent advice on A-Yuan's health. Wen Ning had drawn silly comics of "ghost Wei Ying" helping him in the clinic.

It was morning when Wei Ying stepped out into the garden of the Lan estate, sunlight washing over the cherry blossoms. A-Yuan waddled across the path, chasing a butterfly, laughter ringing in the air.

Lan Wangji stood nearby, silent as always, but this time not cold—just patient. Wei Ying met his eyes and offered a tentative smile. Lan Wangji didn't smile back, but he gave a small nod.

It was enough.

They were rebuilding.

Not from scratch, but from ashes.