Yuki_Kirkland



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    Lan Zhan finds out about Wei Ying’s core removal from an unlikely source, and it isn’t the only secret the two teenagers have been keeping from each other.

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    Wei Wuxian dies at twenty-two and doesn’t come back. Lan Wangji dies in an “unfortunate accident” in a temple in Yunping at thirty-seven. The world moves on.

    Thousands of years later, Wei Ying and Lan Zhan have a senior thesis in cultivation to co-write on the Yiling Patriarch. It doesn’t go exactly how they were expecting.
    -
    “I still do not understand why you were able to read the journal in the first place,” Lan Zhan says.

    Wei Ying grins. “You’ll laugh,” he says. He won’t, of course. Lan Zhan doesn’t laugh. But maybe he can swing a smile. “It’s because of the name thing. He wrote his name into the scrambling talisman. So it says that no one can undo the lock but Wei Ying.” He hooks a thumb at himself.

    Everyone’s always said his name is unlucky. This is the first time it’s worked out in his favor. It’s not a coincidence either; apparently his mother thought it would be funny. Mrs. Yu had told him that with a curl in her lip, as if it didn’t make him wish he knew his parents even more.

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    "Eh! 'Little brother,' what!" Wei WuXian says, mock-outraged. "I'm thirty-five!" (Sort of. He was born thirty-five years ago, anyway.) "You must be, what, twenty-five tops?"

    "Nooo," Xie Lian says, smiling. "I'm eight hundred years old."

    "You don't look a day over four hundred," Wei WuXian says. "Seriously, how old are you?"

    "Seriously, I'm eight hundred years old," Xie Lian tells him.

    --

    Lan WangJi had a lot of time to pray to different gods while Wei WuXian was dead. One of them was Hua Cheng.

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    "San Lang," he says, still combing his hair.

    "Mmm," Hua Cheng says through the rumbling.

    "I think you're purring," Xie Lian tells him.

    --

    two bros chilling in a hammock 0 feet apart because they are gay

    now available in russian: here

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    “Hanguang Jun!” He exclaims, wide-eyed, shamelessly lingering in the other man’s arms. After all, how many opportunities does anyone get to see His Excellency from such proximity? Wei Wuxian is going to look his fill no matter how impertinent it is to stare at a high immortal.

    As he endeavours to memorize every exquisite detail of that face, there is a minute crinkle in Lan Wangji’s brows, a slight downturn of the lips. “Are you quite finished,” Lan Wangji asks with a frosty glare.

    OR

    Wei Wuxian schemes to get close to the hero he admires - with only the purest of intentions, of course.

    As usual, things do not go according to plan, but he ends up closer to His Excellency than ever intended.

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