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[https://archiveofourown.org/works/25089004] - - public:opalsong
Lan Xichen’s hands were shaking, hidden in his sleeves, and his mouth kept opening and closing, trying to find something to say. “A-Yao,” he finally forced out through numb lips. “A-Yao, you swore an oath.” Jin Guangyao blinked, then laughed. “I swore many oaths,” he said. “Which one are you referring to?"
