“It’s impossible,” Wen Qing said, her voice flat and eyes icy. “Literally impossible. It would kill you both.” “But –” “If you don’t care about your own life, at least care about his,” she said, and Wei Wuxian fell silent; she’d hit him right where it hurt the most, and he turned and stormed away. Wen Qing waited, watching as Wen Ning ran after him, distressed by his distress, and when he was finally out of earshot, she said, “You may regret that, one day.” Behind her there was a rusty bark of laughter, if that horrible twisted sound, low and grating and rasping at the throat until it bled, could be called a laugh. “I won’t,” Jiang Cheng said. “Thank you for lying to him.”

It started with Jiang Cheng being a sticky child, refusing to leave his jie’s side even when she sat for her embroidery lessons; with him being noisy and troublesome and the teacher just shoving the needle and thread into his hands with a muttered comment about it being good for men to know how to repair their own clothing – as if a future sect leader would ever need to know something like that. His mother covered her mouth with her hand to hide her laughter when he presented her with the results of several weeks’ worth of effort: it was just barely recognizable as the world’s ugliest duck. “A symbol of loving devotion,” one of her maids said.

Cloud Recesses, Gusu, age 15 “You don’t think they’re really going to make us wake up at mao hour?” Wei Wuxian whined. “Or sleep by the end of xu hour?” “They’re not going to make us do anything,” Jiang Cheng groaned. “It’s just that activities will be ongoing when they’re awake, so if you miss them all by sleeping until si hour, that’s your problem. It’s not like we made them do anything when they were visiting us at the Lotus Pier…” “What are you talking about?” Nie Huaisang wanted to know. “You all most certainly made poor Lan-xiong stay up past his bedtime when he was visiting the Lotus Pier – and the same for the rest of us, too!” Wei Wuxian, who had led most of the forcing-to-stay-up-late nonsense, coughed. “Yes, well…speaking of Lan Zhan, do you think he’ll be happy to see me?” “No,” both Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang chorused.

Lan Qiren had spent so long trying to save his nephews from his brother’s mistake – he would not now allow them to fall into their mother’s. (in which Lan Qiren notices that there's something wrong with Nie Mingjue...but no matter what it sounds like, he can't believe his nephew would poison his own lover)

nirejseki

When Lan Wangji ran away from the jingshi to look for himself, his back still raw, and on Yiling he found only a small child, feverish but still capable of a little bit of babbling, still able to tell the story of what had happened – when he found the traces of blood on the ground, Wei Wuxian’s from when his power had backlashed on him – when he saw the bodies in the blood pool, already rotting – For the first time in his life, Lan Wangji didn’t want to go home. (what if he had another option?)

On the morning of his birthday, the Chief Cultivator, Lan Wangji, wakes up on time, as always, and finds his normally-fast-asleep husband wide awake and wearing nothing but a ribbon. He does not leave his bed for another shichen, missing breakfast; he will need to make it up to his family later. He does not care. He knows it will be the only good gift he receives today.