There is more here than an embarrassing discovery, Meng Yao is sure. The message summoning Meng Yao to the Nie family wing had been written in Nie Huaisang’s careful calligraphy, and this room is not so busy that he could not have heard Meng Yao knocking, nor failed to hear Meng Yao calling his name. Twice. Nonetheless, walking in on Nie Huaisang reading an extensive collection of pornography came as a bit of a surprise.

When Wei Ying comes up with a new request, Lan Wangji learns something new about himself: he actually really likes bottoming.

Back at home, when he has time to examine it more closely, it quickly becomes obvious why this ritual never turned up in all his early research. It's not a typical soul summoning ritual. It's not a cultivation ritual at all; as Nie Huaisang puzzles through it, the closest category he can put it in is folk magic...not only that, but sex magic.

Wei Wuxian doesn’t let the Wen Remnants hand themselves over after Jin Zixuan’s death. Instead he makes one last sacrifice to ensure they survive. Months later, a Lan cultivator kneels at the edge of the Burial Mounds, ready to offer himself to the feared Yiling Patriarch. Or: Sacrifice is an old magic, but love is even older.

“Are you trying to propose to me, Zhan-ge?” Yibo asks, lifting his eyebrows. Xiao Zhan laughs, the sound slightly wheezing. “At dinner…” He runs his thumb over the ring, biting down on his lip. “It was cute. You were acting like Yixing’s trophy husband.” His voice probably isn’t as light as he means it to be. It’s too rough around the edges for a joke. Still, the description makes Yibo stick his lower lip out in a frown. “I wouldn’t have if you weren’t ignoring me,” he says. “I wasn’t ignoring you.” He cups his hand around Yibo’s chin, their lips hovering close together again. “I was watching.”

Xiao Zhan doesn’t bother listening or saying anything in response to Yibo's ranting, just holds the phone a little closer to his face and lets a low moan hover at the edge of his breathing. He’s looking at the red tip of Yibo’s cock where it peeks out from his foreskin and thinking about licking it. Yibo’s indignation comes through clearly over the phone. “Are you— Are you jacking it, Xiao Zhan?” “Uh huh,” Xiao Zhan sighs, and tries his best to let the wet sounds of his hand on his cock get louder. Maybe he should grab lube for extra squelchiness. “Oh, no way. Nope, I can’t handle this,” Yibo declares and the line goes dead. Xiao Zhan laughs softly to himself, and somehow that transforms into the convulsions of orgasm and he comes all over his hand. He takes a picture and sends it to Yibo. see you tomorrow

“All you need to do is be a good boy. Can you do that for me?” With Lan Wangji’s eyes covered, Wei Wuxian cannot help but take note of the way it highlights his other features, such as the gentle slope of his nose, the sharp angle of his jawline, and his plush full lips, just waiting to be kissed. “Yes,” Lan Wangji replies, a beat quicker than usual. He tilts his head up in a silent request. “Wei Ying?” Wei Wuxian crawls up Lan Wangji’s body until he hovers above him, close but not enough to touch. Despite still being fully clothed, Wei Wuxian can feel Lan Wangji’s bare skin radiating heat. “What do good boys say when there’s something they want?” “...Please.”

Xiao Xingchen’s hip jerked toward the wand, but against the wide fix of the spreader bar between his knees, he had little leverage. Song Lan just moved the wand with him.

Song Lan likes Xue Yang, obviously. Song Lan likes folding laundry too. Xue Yang is not sure where he ranks in Song Lan’s likes, along the scale from folding laundry to Xiao Xingchen.