Archive of Our Own

First impressions are everything. They’re why Chu Wanning, who once didn’t care what anyone thought of him, is now more careful in how he presents himself. They’re why Chu Wanning, who would rather righteously discipline a family of high status than sit around and have tea with them, now expresses his dislike in the form of cold glares instead.

Once upon a time, Chu Wanning didn’t have to care about first impressions. Now, as the Imperial Chancellor to King Xue Zhengyong, things are different. As King Xue’s greatest advisor, he’s had to restrain himself, more for the image of the kingdom than for himself. It’s the reason he now makes it a point to remain neutral upon first meetings, not giving the other party any commonality or resentment to take advantage of, not building or breaking relationships too quickly.

He’s slipped up three times.

The first time Chu Wanning met Xue Meng, he listened quietly to the younger boy’s enthusiastic decree that Chu Wanning would be his teacher, for everything from sword fighting to the snooze-worthy politics of the kingdom. Chu Wanning unknowingly let a small smile slip, which everyone in the room had caught. From that moment on, he was heavily teased for his soft spot for their darling prince.

The first time Chu Wanning met Nangong Liu, he scowled at the man’s artificial compliments; Nangong Liu looked like he’d happily abandon his own family for an opportunity to squeeze into the higher ranks. Chu Wanning had refused to shake his hand, instead regarding Nangong Liu’s existence as a stain on their kingdom. Really, the fight that broke out after that was to be expected.

The first time Chu Wanning met Mo Ran, he slapped him across the face.

***

It’s a day that starts like any other, except Chu Wanning and Xue Meng eventually find themselves pulling up to a small farming village just outside the capital in a carriage that jostles wildly on an uneven dirt road.

Earlier that morning, after being subjected to hours of lessons on trade, Xue Meng asked if they could include something in his training that would give him more real-world experience.

“Not that Shizun’s lessons are boring,” Xue Meng had been quick to explain. “I just think that meeting more of the people we lead would be helpful.”

Chu Wanning doesn’t push Xue Meng on the very obvious fact that he does think the lessons are boring, mostly because Chu Wanning agrees. Really, Xue Meng shouldn’t be stuck in a room during his prime. There would always be time to read and memorize laws, but the opportunity to travel and explore would only lessen.

And, if he’s being honest, his agreement is partially for selfish reasons. Chu Wanning had once been a wandering man, providing whatever support he could to the random villages he came across. After becoming the Imperial Chancellor and getting a whole new set of responsibilities, he no longer had time, but the itch to go back to his roots never went away. Now, with Xue Meng advocating for much of the same thing, he can kill two birds with one stone.

That’s how Chu Wanning finds himself pitching the idea to Xue Zhengyong, and after some very enthusiastic agreement (more for him than Xue Meng, Chu Wanning notices with mild confusion, and major annoyance), Yuliang Village is where they end up.

When Chu Wanning steps out of the carriage, the first thing he notices is that it’s hot. The heat in the air permeates his white robes and wears on him like a weight. It’s a little suffocating, after having gotten used to the massive structures and greenery casting shade over every meter of the capital.

The second thing he notices is everyone within viewing distance staring at him in shock, some with their jaws on the floor. It makes Chu Wanning a little uncomfortable, being looked at like he’s something otherworldly, but the tension quickly snaps when Xue Meng jumps out of the carriage with a loud yawn.

“Why’s it so quiet?” the prince asks.

His presence spurs an elderly lady into action. She walks up to them and bows. “Prince Xue, Imperial Chancellor Chu, it’s an honor,” she says, and the people around her mimic her greeting. “To what do we owe this visit? Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Xue Meng says. He crosses his arms over his chest and grins, reciting his much-rehearsed (ten times on the way here; Chu Wanning had counted) speech about the importance of being active in civilian lives.

“You’d like to help out?” The elderly lady blinks in astonishment. “That’s very generous, but please don’t trouble yourselves. Surely there are more important ways you can use your time...”

Chu Wanning had figured this would happen, so he’s quick to stop the discussion before it even starts. After he insists they use Xue Meng for whatever they need, a sparkle lights in their eyes at the thought of having a youthful man to help with all the heavy lifting. In no time at all, Chu Wanning watches as Xue Meng is led away.

Now, he’s left alone with the elderly woman who’d spoken up, and one other woman. The awkwardness builds as the seconds tick by, their eyes plastered on him in silence.

Chu Wanning finds himself unable to take much more of their staring, and his eyes flit to a stack of freshly harvested crops. Admittedly, Chu Wanning has never tried farming, his past self mostly focusing on upholding people’s safety. Still, work is work. “You look like you were in the middle of harvesting these. I can continue.”

The women look back and forth between Chu Wanning and the pile of wheat. “Imperial Chancellor Chu,” one of them begins, a timid smile curling at her lips, “when you say that you’d like to help out, you mean by working in the fields?”

Chu Wanning had thought he’d make that clear from the beginning. What else is he meant to do here? Set up trading routes?

Before he can say as much, the other woman in the duo clicks her tongue and elbows her friend’s side. “Don’t be silly! How could you expect a man of his status to tend to our crops?”

The words make Chu Wanning’s brow twitch. Weren’t they just so eager to accept Xue Meng’s help? Xue Zhengyong always jokes about how everyone seems to be more scared to talk to Imperial Chancellor Chu than their own King, but here, too? He hasn’t frowned once since getting out of the carriage. “I’ll do it,” he says, crossing his arms behind his back. “Where are your tools?”

The women gape at Chu Wanning. He stands in wait, and it’s only after his seriousness dawns on them that they, very cautiously, hand him a tool he can’t even begin to guess the name or function of.

Whatever, he’ll figure it out. With a hum, he gathers his robes in his hands and starts his trek across the muddy field.

Big mistake.

Chu Wanning misjudges the unevenness of the terrain and sinks his foot into a pit that’s too deep for him to get out of. He knows this, because he tries, and then he trips, and then he plummets towards the ground face-first.

And then, miraculously, he stops. The impact that he braced for with a clenched jaw and eyes squeezed shut never comes. Instead, Chu Wanning feels a warmth circle his waist, breaking his fall, and the press of something sturdy against his back.

A frown tugs at Chu Wanning’s lips, the situation so bizarre he doesn’t process what’s happening until he’s flipped around. It’s then he comes face-to-face with a set of vibrant eyes speckled with purple, a dimpled smile below them.

“Are you okay?” the man in front of him asks, the corner of his lips twitching as if trying not to laugh. He’s clearly amused. Any other time, Chu Wanning’s annoyance would’ve flared. Now, he’s trying to come to terms with the fact that a voice this deep exists. 

Chu Wanning realizes his hand is braced against the man’s chest. Against the man’s warm chest. Against the man’s warm, toned chest. Against the man’s warm, toned, bare chest, and Chu Wanning’s fingers twitch against his skin as he eyes a bead of sweat trailing down its expanse, and the man is too close, much too close, and Chu Wanning feels his breath against his skin, and—

And then Chu Wanning retracts his hand as if he’s touched fire, and slaps the man across the face.

***

“I’m very sorry,” Chu Wanning says for the tenth time as he stands in Mo Ran’s home.

“It’s fine.”

“I didn’t mean to do it,” he continues, lamely. The mortification of people thinking the capital goes around smacking their civilians weighs down on him.

“Mm. I know.”

Chu Wanning stares as Mo Ran, currently sitting on his bed and lounging against the wall behind it, presses a cool rag to his cheek. Chu Wanning wonders if it would be rude to ask for a rag, too. He feels like the slap caused him more harm than it did Mo Ran, the white of his palm stained a light pink.

“You just startled me,” Chu Wanning mutters. “With your…” Lack of clothing, he doesn’t want to say, because Mo Ran is still half-naked in front of him and he doesn’t want to draw more attention to that fact than necessary.

“I get it.” Mo Ran flashes him a smile. “I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that.”

Mo Ran’s sympathy only makes the guilt roll off Chu Wanning in waves. “I—”

“But,” Mo Ran continues, his smile widening into a wolfish grin, “I do wonder what Imperial Chancellor Chu was planning on doing once he got out into the fields with only a spade in hand?”

Chu Wanning’s brow twitches.

Maybe he shouldn’t feel sorry for assaulting this man after all.

“What else would I plan on doing? I was going to help with the crops,” Chu Wanning snaps, never having been one to tolerate jabs at his capabilities. Mo Ran’s grin only grows wider and wider, and the sight of it makes Chu Wanning’s ears flare red with embarrassment. Whatever filter he’s tried to maintain completely shatters. “And you should be ashamed of yourself, off doing who knows what while the elderly are stuck harvesting the crops. With your physique, you could easily get through ten times more land ten times faster, and yet— Why are you laughing?!”

“Imperial Chancellor Chu,” Mo Ran begins, clearing his throat, “I harvested all the crops today. I just asked if my tools could be held while I got some water.”

Chu Wanning freezes.

“But I’m flattered that you think my physique—”

“Impudent!” Chu Wanning turns on his heels and makes for the door, needing some fresh air to combat the quickly rising temperature of his body. “Absolutely ridiculous. Never in my life have I met someone as insolent as—”

The words stop short in Chu Wanning’s throat when he feels a large hand tug his own, spinning him back around. Upon getting a faceful of bare chest again, his nostrils flare and he rips his hand from Mo Ran’s hold. “Don’t touch me!”

“I meant no disrespect,” Mo Ran says, and when Chu Wanning’s gaze darts to his face, there’s no more mischief sparkling in Mo Ran’s eyes. His mouth tugs into a small frown. “I was just trying to lighten the mood, since you seemed so concerned about what happened.”

When Chu Wanning doesn’t respond right away, Mo Ran quickly adds, “I won’t speak out of line again. I’m sorry.”

Chu Wanning purses his lips, guiltily eyeing the nervous wrinkles on Mo Ran’s forehead. In truth, Mo Ran didn’t do anything too out of line outside of invading Chu Wanning’s personal space more times in ten minutes than anyone else had all year, but his pride has already caused enough of a fuss to take it back. He mutters, “As long as you realize your mistakes.”

Mo Ran’s shoulders sag in relief. “I do. If I may ask, though… Were you really planning on working out in the fields?”

Again with the question. Chu Wanning clicks his tongue. “I didn’t know this would be such an issue.”

“It’s not,” Mo Ran assures. “It’s just that you don’t have to? I’m sure you have lots of other responsibilities, and given your status, maybe work as rough as this isn’t—”

“If you want to bring up my status,” Chu Wanning interrupts, irritation bubbling in his chest, “then you can bring up that it entails me helping this kingdom as much as I can. I’m not bound to whatever elegant work you think I do all day. If that’s what being the Imperial Chancellor meant, I never would’ve taken the position.”

Mo Ran falls silent, clearly not expecting that answer. Chu Wanning takes advantage of what seems to be a rare moment of speechlessness for the man. “If you don’t need anything from me, fine,” he says harshly. “But I’m not so incompetent I can’t even help.”

The continued silence annoys Chu Wanning, because Mo Ran must be trying to process through his thick head what he’s just said. When the quiet stretches even further, Chu Wanning scoffs and angles his body towards the door to leave.

But he doesn’t, because then Mo Ran’s face relaxes into something soft, boyish, and a dimpled smile shapes his lips. “Then, Imperial Chancellor Chu, why don’t you stay a bit longer so I can show you how to harvest crops?”

***

It probably would’ve been less embarrassing, the way the lessons crashed and burned, if Chu Wanning hadn’t said “I’ll get it on the first try” beforehand. Instead, he manages to get stuck in the mud three more times, and gets a face full of it when he shovels the ground too hard. As the night settles in and Chu Wanning looks half ready to snap a rake in half, Mo Ran suggests he come back the next week to try again.

“I’ll be waiting,” Mo Ran says, and Chu Wanning closes the curtain to his carriage right as he hears, “Safe travels, Imperial Chancellor Chu.”

Chu Wanning spends much of the next week hunched over in the library, reading whatever he can on the basics of farming. Fifteen books and many skipped meals later, he hopes he’ll now be better suited to help and less likely to embarrass himself in the process.

So when Chu Wanning returns the following week and drags a shovel into the fields, it’s humiliating, the way he manages to trip over seemingly nothing again only to be caught by a pair of warm arms. At the feeling of a familiar grip around his waist, a jolt of electricity shoots up his spine, numbing his body.

At least Xue Meng, who a distance away can be heard being piled on by a bunch of children, seems to be having fun.

The next week isn’t much better.

When Chu Wanning arrives in Yuliang, a smile awaits him as soon as he steps out of the carriage. Mo Ran extends a hand. “Imperial Chancellor Chu.”

Chu Wanning eyes his hand, but ultimately decides not to take it. He gets out of the carriage on his own and stands with his back perfectly straight. “I’m ready.”

Mo Ran grins. “Oh, are you?”

“I am.”

“You studied?”

“It doesn’t concern you.”

“For how long?”

“Mo Ran,” Chu Wanning snaps. “Just take me to the field.”

So he does. Mo Ran hands him a spade and steps back, and Chu Wanning gets to work. He actually ends up making good progress in digging a trench, and turns to calmly rub it in Mo Ran’s face. His breath catches in his throat at the sight of Mo Ran, though, his arms and back lined in a thin sheen of sweat, flexing as he swings a hoe up in the air and strikes it into the ground.

Chu Wanning fumbles over his footsteps, trips over a hole, and eats dirt.

The next week goes more smoothly, with Chu Wanning remaining upright the entire time, though that may have something to do with Mo Ran constantly insisting he rest under a tree. In any case, he and Mo Ran manage to finish planting everything before the sun sets, and as they wait for Xue Meng to finish his own work, Mo Ran spends the rest of the day showing Chu Wanning the more scenic areas of Yuliang.

Chu Wanning almost doesn’t agree to the tour, but he quickly finds himself engrossed in it. With no farming to try and be competitive about as he’s shown around, Mo Ran’s company becomes a surprisingly soothing one.

Really, these visits have become a nice breather from his daily work, and Chu Wanning finds himself looking forward to them more every week. At this point, there’s nothing he can complain about.

Well, except one thing. One person, to be more accurate.

Ling-er.

Chu Wanning will admit she’s an outgoing young lady with a natural charm, but he hadn’t had much of an opinion of her when they’d met. Then Chu Wanning had noticed every time he visited, Ling-er would hang off of Mo Ran until she snatched him away for a chore she probably made up and likely didn’t need help with. After that, his impression of her took a hit.

A month into his visits, it’s still happening, and it’s when he and Mo Ran are getting ready to pound rice cakes he hears a flowery giggle for the third time that day.

“Mo Ran!”

Chu Wanning’s jaw tightens.

“I need your help by the well!”

Really? Can no one function without Mo Ran? If that’s the case, it’s clearly a good thing Chu Wanning and Xue Meng decided to come here, because god forbid the chaos that would erupt if Mo Ran ever fell sick.

Mo Ran throws Chu Wanning an apologetic look and tries to send Ling-er away, but she latches onto his arm and doesn’t budge. The sight of it irks Chu Wanning, so he sends Mo Ran off with her for the sake of not having to see it anymore.

While Mo Ran is gone, Chu Wanning thinks. He can’t just tell Ling-er to never bother them again, but he also doesn’t know how much more of these distractions he can take. It’s just not efficient, the way she keeps interrupting them constantly, pulling Mo Ran away from their work.

So Chu Wanning makes an executive decision.

“From now on, you’ll be my aide while I’m here,” Chu Wanning announces when Mo Ran comes back, very purposefully avoiding his gaze. “It’ll be inefficient if there’s someone new showing me around every week.”

“Oh?” Chu Wanning can so easily picture the shit-eating grin on Mo Ran’s face.

Chu Wanning nods stiffly. “And this means it’s troublesome if you’re constantly being pulled away by…” Ling-er. “…people, so make sure it’s arranged that someone else can be a point of contact while I’m here.”

Mo Ran hums thoughtfully. “If Imperial Chancellor Chu says so, who am I to say no?”

So far so good. Chu Wanning figures he might as well use this opportunity to bring up something else that’s been on his mind. “Imperial Chancellor Chu is too formal. When you address me, just use my name.”

Mo Ran’s eyes widen, and then they light up. “In that case, I’m honored to be your aide,” he says with a voice deeper than usual, and leans in until their faces are but a breath away, until their gazes are forced to lock. “Chu Wanning.”

Chu Wanning clicks his tongue, Mo Ran’s gaze on him oddly intense, then turns as he feels the beginnings of a minuscule pounding in his chest.

Weird.

He’ll get used to it before next time.

***

He doesn’t get used to it.

When Chu Wanning next arrives in Yuliang, Mo Ran runs towards his carriage with a look on his face that spells trouble.

“Chu Wanning!” Mo Ran yells the name so loudly it makes him flinch. “You’re here!”

Xue Meng gasps from beside him. “Did he— he just used your name, Shizun!”

“I let him,” Chu Wanning explains, keeping his voice steady, suddenly wishing he’d told Mo Ran to save the informality for when it was just them. When Mo Ran stops in front of them, Chu Wanning shoots him a glare. “Did you have to yell?”

Mo Ran grins. “Sorry. I was just excited.”

Chu Wanning’s brow twitches. His chest does something strange. Must be the weather. “Forget it. What are we doing today?”

“Nothing,” Mo Ran says. “We’re celebrating.”

Chu Wanning arches a brow. “Celebrating what?”

There was a marriage, it turns out. Chu Wanning had only spoken to the couple twice before, but anyone with eyes could tell what they felt for each other. It was evident in their shared glances, the way they laughed around the other, the soft and subtle touches they exchanged. Chu Wanning sees much of the same thing at the capital with Xue Zhengyong and Wang Chuqing.

“Come on.” Mo Ran winks. “I’ll take you over to them. It’ll be fun.”

Chu Wanning hesitates. Wouldn’t that be awkward? He hasn’t known them for long, and surely this is a celebration that should be kept to friends and family only. “I don’t think that’s— Mo Ran!”

Mo Ran grabs his hand and starts pulling him along, Xue Meng running after them with a loud “Hey!” Chu Wanning tries to get Mo Ran to at least slow down — he doesn’t know what kind of sight the other villagers are getting right now, watching their Imperial Chancellor being dragged along in front of their eyes — but Mo Ran doesn’t listen. His hand stays wrapped around Chu Wanning’s, warm and calloused.

It takes a second for Chu Wanning to think to pull it back.

In truth, fun isn’t exactly how Chu Wanning would describe the next few hours. He still feels a bit out of place, surrounded by people he’s rarely, if ever, spoken to, but he can at least admit it’s not a bad experience. Throughout the day, the tension in his shoulders eventually releases as the jumble of voices around him mellows out into something peaceful, and he finds himself getting swept up in the lighthearted mood. Mo Ran never leaves his side.

All too soon, the night settles in, and Mo Ran accompanies Chu Wanning on the walk back to his carriage. The atmosphere is peaceful, serene. Crickets chirp the remaining sunlight away as a cool breeze tugs at their robes.

“Sorry you came down here for nothing,” Mo Ran apologizes, “but I hope you still had a good time.”

“It wasn’t unpleasant,” Chu Wanning admits. “If I’d known there’d been a wedding, though, I would’ve brought a gift.”

“A gift from Chu Wanning himself? I’m jealous.”

Chu Wanning rolls his eyes. “Don’t be. I have nothing of value to give you, unless it’s money you want.”

Mo Ran laughs. “You think I’m after your fortunes?”

“What else would you want?” Chu Wanning asks, but Mo Ran doesn’t answer. Instead, he stands by the carriage and watches as Chu Wanning steps in slowly, careful not to wake a sleeping Xue Meng already huddled in the corner, and takes the curtain in his hand.

“Safe travels, Chu Wanning,” Mo Ran says, and slides it closed.

***

It’s the day before Wang Chuqing’s birthday. Xue Zhengyong holds a hair clip up into the light, a silver one lined with purple jewels, and hums. “What do you think, Meng-er? Will your mother like this?”

Xue Meng narrows his eyes as he scrutinizes the clip, then nods. “She always likes your gifts.”

Xue Zhengyong laughs. “That’s because your father is an excellent gift giver!” He pulls Xue Meng close. “Listen, Meng-er. One day, when you find someone to give your heart to, you’re going to have to pay attention to what they like. Your mother isn’t difficult to shop for, but some people are a little, uh, harder to figure out…”

Chu Wanning raises a brow when he sees Xue Zhengyong look his way.

Xue Zhengyong clears his throat. “And what do you think?”

Chu Wanning eyes the clip. “She’ll appreciate it.”

“Ah, I hope so.” Xue Zhengyong carefully places the clip back into its pouch and tucks it away in his robes. “My pride is on the line.”

Chu Wanning sets down the book he’s reading, one he’d been using to plan future lessons for Xue Meng. “Everyone knows you’re considerate with your gifts.”

“Ah, not my pride as a gift giver, my pride as a husband,” Xue Zhengyong corrects with a wink. “It may not seem like it, what with my attractive Xue genes, but Consort Wang is such a beauty, sometimes I wonder why she chose to marry me.” A lovestruck expression casts over his face. “Seeing her walk around with something I gave her will make all the difference.”

Chu Wanning supposes he gets it, and picks up the book he’d been reading. He just never would’ve assumed such thoughts ran through Xue Zhengyong’s head, not with the way he and Wang Chuqing were so obviously infatuated with each other.

Xue Zhengyong seems to pick up on Chu Wanning’s train of thought, and a booming laugh echoes through the hall. “My friend, love is a powerful thing, but there’s no shame in wanting to see physical proof of it. When you feel so strongly about belonging to someone, sometimes you want everyone to know. A token of love does wonders for a doubtful heart.”

***

It’s been six months since Chu Wanning met Mo Ran, and much to his dismay, making him his aide didn’t help much with the Ling-er situation. If anything, she’s just become more of a thorn in his side. Now, Chu Wanning watches with a set jaw as she tries to tug Mo Ran away, who’d been in the middle of showcasing an assortment of pastries to Chu Wanning.

Alright then.

“Mo Ran,” Chu Wanning interrupts, right before Ling-er can drag him away. “I need to speak to you about something important. Now.”

Chu Wanning doesn’t wait for an answer. He just spins on his heels and walks in the opposite direction, but keeps his ears peeled. It only takes a few seconds for him to hear a set of heavy footsteps following behind, and Chu Wanning, with a childish smugness, keeps walking until he’s sure they’re out of Ling-er’s sight.

Chu Wanning eventually stops under the shade of a tree. When he turns to face Mo Ran, the other is staring at him quietly. “What is it?” he asks.

“What did you want to talk to me about?”

Well, this is an issue.

Chu Wanning didn’t consider Mo Ran might actually follow up on this white lie of his. His mind had been focused solely on eliminating the problem, and now that he’s done it, he expects this whole thing to drop. If Chu Wanning doesn’t answer, though, there’s a chance Mo Ran might run right back to Ling-er, and the thought puts a bitter taste in his mouth.

Chu Wanning clears his throat. “Your technique.”

“My… technique?”

“With the spade.”

Mo Ran blinks. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

God, does he have to spell it out for him? Chu Wanning’s fingers twitch at his side. “It’s good. You’re proficient at digging very deep holes.” Then he pauses, and concludes with, “Keep up the good work.”

There, that should do it. No one can turn away praise, and it’s only logical for Chu Wanning to give Mo Ran feedback on the work he’s been doing. That’s exactly why Chu Wanning startles at the laugh that comes out of Mo Ran next, loud and amused. It makes Chu Wanning bristle. “What’s so funny?”

“You pulled me aside so you could tell me I know how to use a spade well?”

Mo Ran didn’t have to say it like that. Chu Wanning feels the tips of his ears light a fiery red. “You ungrateful — ! Fine, see if I ever compliment you again!”

“Wait, wait,” Mo Ran pleads, laughter bubbling to a stop as he reaches for Chu Wanning, who’s ready to bolt. “I don’t mean it in a bad way, really. Thank you.”

It takes a minute for the irritation in Chu Wanning’s head to dissolve, but eventually it does. Mo Ran picks up on his lightened mood right away, because then he’s leaning forward and asking, “This talent of mine. Could I impress someone with it?”

Oh.

“…There’s someone you have your eyes on,” Chu Wanning says casually.

“Mm… there might be.”

An unsettling wave of disappointment courses through Chu Wanning. He clears his throat and looks at the ground as he plays with the hem of his sleeves. “I see.”

Mo Ran is silent for a long minute. It’s only when Chu Wanning looks back up in confusion that he sees a large grin spread across Mo Ran’s face. “Chu Wanning, what do you think I should do?”

Chu Wanning frowns. “About what?”

“About the person I have my eyes on. How do I show them I care?”

How would I know? Chu Wanning wants to say, but then he focuses on the radiance in Mo Ran’s eyes, looking at him playfully, sincerely, and his next words tumble out of him before he can stop them. “…A gift.”

“A gift?”

“Something unique, that only you two would share,” Chu Wanning says, heat crawling up his body.

Then it feels like a bucket of cold water dumps on him, because Chu Wanning thinks of Mo Ran giving Ling-er a gift. He thinks of Mo Ran smiling at her, dimples and all, with his shirt halfway unbuttoned because he can’t ever act decent for once in his life, holding out some— some flower or hair clip he thinks Ling-er would like.

The thought brings a sour taste to his mouth. How stupid. Mo Ran and Ling-er already have a connection of their own. They live in the same village, cook the same meals, know the same people. Is that not enough? Never mind the potential for Mo Ran to get distracted because of a new love life; did Chu Wanning really have to see Ling-er parading around with some physical proof of it?

Chu Wanning’s mood takes a sharp dive. “Actually, never mind. That’s stupid. Either tell them you like them or don’t.” He steps out from under the shade of the tree and makes his way back to the center of the village. “And don’t ask me nonsense questions again.”

Mo Ran bursts into laughter behind him. Chu Wanning has no idea why.

***

“I hear there’s someone you’ve been spending quite a bit of time with in Yuliang,” Xue Zhengyong brings up one day over a meal.

“Oh, that Mo Ran guy?” Xue Meng asks, the name coming out of his mouth like it’s something offensive. “Shizun, what’s up with him? He never leaves you alone.”

“He’s my aide. He’s not supposed to,” Chu Wanning explains, and hopes his answer will put an end to all this. To his dismay, it only makes things worse.

Xue Zhengyong perks up. “An aide? You?”

“It’s an unfamiliar village. Of course I’d need one.”

“Er… but you’ve been going there for months now.”

Chu Wanning bites the inside of his cheek. “There’s no point in taking away the title,” Chu Wanning says in what he hopes is a tone of dismissal. “It means nothing, anyway.”

“Of course,” Xue Zhengyong laughs. “Of course.”

***

“Chu Wanning? What are you doing here?”

“Where else would I be but here?” Chu Wanning mutters, trying to act indifferent, but he knows Mo Ran’s not wrong in asking. He’s come to Yuliang alone and a day earlier than usual, after all, for reasons he’d rather not think too deeply about.

He stares down at Mo Ran, who sits on the ground behind his home, and wrinkles his nose, moving his robes around to try and find a proper way he can sit down.

Mo Ran laughs and reaches for him. “Let me help you.”

“No need,” says Chu Wanning, smacking Mo Ran’s hand away. “I can seat myself.”

And then, to prove himself, Chu Wanning plops down right where he’s standing. He hums, satisfied, but a scowl is quick to curl at his lips when he sees a toothy grin spread across Mo Ran’s. “What’s with that face?”

“Imperial Chancellor Chu must like me if he’s willing to sit on the ground with me.”

“Quiet,” Chu Wanning murmurs, ears red. “Who likes you? Don’t make stuff up.”

Mo Ran laughs. “Am I? There are probably other villages that could use your help, but you keep coming here.”

Brat, you’ve gotten bold, Chu Wanning thinks with a grumble. “I only come here because it’s warmer than the other villages. I don’t do well in the cold.”

“Oh?” The speed at which Mo Ran stands after he says that spooks Chu Wanning. “Stay here,” is all Mo Ran tells him before sprinting away, leaving Chu Wanning to stare after him in confusion.

When Mo Ran returns, he’s holding something behind his back, and there’s an unfamiliar red pendant swinging from his neck.

Mo Ran kneels down in front of Chu Wanning. “I’m glad I picked this up yesterday, since you came earlier than usual,” he says, then brings his hand out in front of him and uncurls his fist. There’s a necklace in his hand, a copy of the one around Mo Ran’s neck. Chu Wanning doesn’t say anything when he sees it, not sure why it’s being held towards him. “It’s a dragonblood crystal. It keeps you warm.”

Chu Wanning’s heard of it before, so he knows Mo Ran isn’t making things up, but he still doesn’t understand why Mo Ran’s showing it to him.

It’s not until Mo Ran unhooks the chain, holding its ends between his fingers as he looks at Chu Wanning expectantly, that Chu Wanning’s mouth runs dry. “Why…”

“For the cold,” Mo Ran repeats, and the words make Chu Wanning burn.

It doesn’t make sense. There’s no reason for Mo Ran to have gotten it for him. He’d never mentioned his dislike of the cold before today, never having had a reason to with Yuliang’s scorching temperatures. “Then why do you have one?”

“Mm.” Mo Ran leans forward to clip the necklace into place around Chu Wanning’s neck, and a smile tugs at his lips. “I wonder.”

Chu Wanning doesn’t call Mo Ran out for his vagueness, regardless of how often it annoys him. He instead stares at the pendant laying against Mo Ran’s chest, bright and red, beautiful and unique. Then he looks down at his own chest and sees the same shade of red, shaped into the same crystal, and a lump forms in his throat.

His stomach fills with butterflies that churn so much it’s painful as the new weight settles around his neck. Regardless of Mo Ran’s intention in giving him this pendant, it fills him with something that makes him feel light.

Then Mo Ran leans forward and takes one of Chu Wanning’s hands in his own, lacing their fingers together in a way he’s never done before. Chu Wanning doesn’t pull back, too frozen to move. “Mm, I think it’s working,” Mo Ran muses. “Your hands are warmer than usual.”

Mo Ran eventually leads him back to his carriage as the day draws to a close, and when Chu Wanning steps inside and the pendant swings from his neck, he finds himself staring down at it again. It almost hypnotizes him.

“So,” Mo Ran drawls, and Chu Wanning snaps his head up, eyes blinking from the glowing red around his neck to Mo Ran’s teasing eyes, “now that you have that, I guess I won’t be seeing you much anymore?”

The two of them stare at each other in silence. Chu Wanning purses his lips and narrows his eyes, doing his best to throw a wave of pure intimidation in Mo Ran’s direction.

Mo Ran’s smile only grows.

A searing heat crawls up Chu Wanning’s neck. The tips of his ears color red. He does his best to act indifferent, unaffected, but the way Mo Ran can so easily ruin all his attempts at it infuriates him.

“You know,” Mo Ran says, cutting into the silence, “the warmer you are, the brighter the crystal glows.”

Chu Wanning takes a second to process what Mo Ran says, then his expression turns scandalized as he claps a hand over the crystal. “Mo Ran!” he scolds, but all that accomplishes is sending the other into a fit of laughter. “Mo Weiyu!”

The laughter only grows.

Chu Wanning fumes. “Stop making things up, yours is also glowing!”

“Of course it is,” Mo Ran says with a grin. “I held your hand, Chu Wanning.”

Chu Wanning flushes, then immediately swipes the curtain closed.

“Get home safe,” he hears from outside.

And when Chu Wanning takes off, the carriage pulling him further and further away from the village of Yuliang, he misses the Wanning from behind that’s much too soft to do anything but dissipate in the wind.

***

Three weeks later, eight months since Chu Wanning met  Mo Ran, Xue Zhengyong announces that he’s arranged a banquet to be held for the purpose of finding Chu Wanning someone to marry.

“No arguments. It’s something I’ve been needing you to do for a while now. But while we’re at it, let’s find someone that makes you happy, my friend,” Xue Zhengyong says with a bellowing laugh. He then leaves Chu Wanning alone with his thoughts in the middle of the hall, with a pendant that burns hot around his neck as a dimpled smile flashes through his mind.

He squashes the image before it can get clearer.

***

Chu Wanning is in a bit of a daze the next time his carriage pulls into Yuliang. With no Xue Meng today to distract him from his thoughts, the prince staying behind because of a cold, he only snaps back to reality at the familiar sound of warm laughter.

“Chu Wanning! You came back for me?”

Mo Ran runs towards him, and the sight douses Chu Wanning’s heart in the first wave of calm he’s felt all week. “Ridiculous,” he mutters half-heartedly. “Who’s coming back for you?”

Chu Wanning doesn’t miss the way Mo Ran’s eyes flicker to the dragonblood crystal around his neck, or the way dimples carve into his cheeks afterwards. “You’re right, you’re right. My mistake.”

They head over to a grassy field they’ve recently been spending much of their time in, Chu Wanning’s trips to Yuliang becoming more leisurely than productive. Mo Ran starts with his usual recounting of everything exciting that’s happened in the past week, and Chu Wanning does his best to keep up, letting out small mhms when necessary. Then Chu Wanning notices Mo Ran trail off, slowly, until he’s gone completely silent and the only sound around them is from the children in the distance.

“Chu Wanning,” Mo Ran eventually calls.

Chu Wanning doesn’t look at him. “Hm?”

“Something’s wrong,” he says, not a question.

Chu Wanning debates asking Mo Ran to drop it, but he knows there’s no point. Eventually Mo Ran will know, given how widespread happenings at the capital are. There shouldn’t be a reason why Chu Wanning can’t tell him himself. “There’s going to be a banquet.”

Mo Ran smiles. Any other time, the sight would send Chu Wanning’s stomach into a frenzy of somersaults. Now, it makes it harder to breathe. “That doesn’t sound like something you’d be interested in.”

Chu Wanning lets the words sink heavily into the air around them. “It’s meant for my engagement.”

Mo Ran’s face drops. “Engagement? To who?”

Chu Wanning glances at Mo Ran, only to find an expression on his face that lacks any of its usual radiance, that looks completely unnatural on him. “I don’t know. The point of it is to find someone to marry.”

Silence again, so deafeningly loud that it makes Chu Wanning’s ears ring. Mo Ran’s lips twitch around unspoken words. Finally, he says in a cracked whisper, “Who’s forcing you to do this?”

“No one.”

“Someone is. You don’t want this.”

“And how would you know what I want?”

“I can tell you’re upset just by looking at you.”

Chu Wanning sets his jaw. “I’m not upset. Who said I’m upset?” The words come out harsher than he intends them to, his mood spiraling so quickly it makes him dizzy.

“Chu Wanning,” Mo Ran says, and it’s with a tone he’s never heard directed towards him, one plagued with mocking disbelief. “You’re many things, but a good liar isn’t one of them. I asked you what was wrong. You brought up the banquet. Just tell me who arranged it and I’ll—”

“And you’ll what?” Chu Wanning scoffs and averts his eyes, fingers curling into a fist that trembles in his lap. “Stop it?”

Mo Ran frowns. “I could—”

“No, you can’t. Forget it,” Chu Wanning spits, and stands up. “I was just making conversation when I told you about the banquet. Don’t stick your nose in places it doesn’t belong.”

Chu Wanning makes to leave, the world swaying a little before him, but it doesn’t take long for a hand around his wrist to pull him back. When he spins, he meets red-rimmed eyes.

“Wait.”

“Get away.”

“Not until you talk to me.”

“Get away.”

“Why won’t you — ?”

“Mo Ran!”

“Wanning!”

At the outburst, Chu Wanning feels like the temperature around him plummets several degrees. Whatever fighting words Chu Wanning was gearing up to say stop cold in his throat as he stares at Mo Ran, the other’s eyes darkening so quickly they leave him frozen.

“You’re just going to get married?” Mo Ran asks, the sudden drop in his tone sending a shiver up Chu Wanning’s spine. A threatening haze Chu Wanning has never seen on the other clouds his eyes. “To someone you don’t even know?”

Chu Wanning takes shaky steps backwards as Mo Ran steps forward, only stopping when his back collides with the wall of the house they were sitting behind. Mo Ran leans close, until all of Chu Wanning’s senses are filled with him. “You’re not even going to fight it?” Mo Ran’s eyes flicker to the necklace around Chu Wanning’s neck. “You’re just going to let another man touch you while you wear that? You…”

That catches Chu Wanning off-guard. He doesn’t stop to think about what Mo Ran could mean. Instead, his eyes flash red with rage. “What do you mean, let another man touch me? Who’s touching me now? You’re ridiculous, acting like I’m offering myself up to whoever will take me when this is about my duty, about—”

“You’re kidding,” Mo Ran cuts off, the laughter that escapes him completely devoid of humor. There’s an insanity in his gaze that makes a shiver crawl up Chu Wanning’s spine. “Duty? That’s your excuse?”

Chu Wanning clenches his jaw and remains silent.

Mo Ran tilts his head, eyes suddenly emotionless. “Chu Wanning. You’re serious.”

Chu Wanning forces down the uneasy feeling in his stomach. “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he quips, the words like sandpaper in his throat. He pushes Mo Ran’s hand away. It falls easily and swings at his side. “I don’t belong to you.”

Mo Ran goes impossibly still before him. It feels like the world does, really, and Chu Wanning only knows it hasn’t because of the pendant against Mo Ran’s chest, swaying lightly with the wind. At the sight of it, the chain around Chu Wanning’s own neck gets heavier and heavier, until it presses hot into his skin and his knees feel like they’re about to buckle.

Weeks of wearing this necklace, and it had only ever made Chu Wanning feel secure. Needed. Wanted. Now, he feels it’s about to strangle him. He almost wishes it would.

“No,” Mo Ran finally says, voice cold. “I guess you don’t.”

Chu Wanning sees a torrent of emotions flash through Mo Ran’s eyes. Anger, disappointment, confusion, and something else that Chu Wanning can’t put a name to, but it compounds every flash and makes it stronger. Then Chu Wanning sees something else, obvious and blaring hurt, and a voice in the back of his mind tells him to reach out. To speak up.

In the end, he doesn’t.

“Then, this one wishes you a safe trip home,” Mo Ran says, voice dripping with sarcasm as he turns and walks away, “Imperial Chancellor Chu.”

***

Chu Wanning does not return.

He reasons with himself it’s because Yuliang doesn’t need his help right now, not that they really have for the last few months. He reasons with himself it’s because Xue Meng has learned everything he can from Yuliang, and now needs to catch up on all the reading he’s been neglecting because of his trips there. He reasons with himself, because if he doesn’t, then he’s accepted the fact that maybe it wasn’t some responsibility tying him there all along.

Time passes, and as the banquet draws nearer, Xue Zhengyong seems set on making this as grand of an event as possible. Chu Wanning isn’t a fan of any of his ideas, shooting down all attempts at making the banquet unique and extravagant.

Until one day, a trade puts in their possession a collection of eye masks of all colors and designs. Xue Zhengyong entertains the idea of throwing some sort of masked banquet — “Ha, maybe that’ll hide the flush on my face when I have a little too much to drink!” — and to his surprise, Chu Wanning agrees.

Chu Wanning’s eyes trace over the variety of masks in front of him. He leans forward and grabs a plain white one.

First impressions are everything, and with masks, it’ll be easier.

With masks, his first impression can’t be: They’re not Mo Ran.

***

All too soon, the day of the banquet arrives. Chu Wanning is given a set of new robes to wear, but he leaves them folded on his bed and slips into his usual attire instead. He’s given a headpiece much grander than what he usually dons, but leaves that aside, too. The only accessories Chu Wanning decides to wear are the white mask he’d gotten days before, and one he’s never taken off: a dragonblood crystal that sways from his neck.

For the last few weeks, it hasn’t glowed.

When Chu Wanning steps out into the main hall and takes a seat beside Xue Zhengyong, he’s instantly met with a barrage of people trying to win his favor. They all follow the same routine: telling him their name, their family, their education. Some are even bold enough to try and dance with him, but Chu Wanning is quick to shoot that down every time. Just the thought of someone being that intimate with him makes him uneasy.

Then he feels the phantom touch of an arm around his waist, of a hand in his own, and he has to shrug it away.

Eventually, all the artificial conversations and attempts at humble bragging wear down on Chu Wanning, and his irritation reaches heights it never has before. It’s after the eighteenth man approaches him that he finds he no longer has the energy to care about any of this.

“Imperial Chancellor Chu,” the newcomer greets.

“No thank you,” Chu Wanning says, and downs an entire drink.

Chu Wanning gets up after that with plans to retire to his room. He’ll have to find someone to relay the message to Xue Zhengyong that he’s leaving, that he can pick someone out for him — have them duel in the middle of the hall for all he cares — and end this miserable banquet for all of them. He’ll apologize later, but it’s truly a wonder he’s even made it this far, his mask that hides the agony on his face the only reason everyone hasn’t already been scared off.

As he sneaks his way to the hall’s exit, he hears it.

Wanning.

A whisper of his name floats in the air behind him, and Chu Wanning’s blood runs cold. He must be hearing things, must be imagining the way his name was just said so delicately, so warmly, with a voice that’s echoed through Chu Wanning’s mind for the last week, keeping him awake at night.

His fingers twitch at his sides, and a flicker of desperate hope causes him to turn around before he can convince himself not to. “Mo — ?”

“I give my greetings to the Imperial Chancellor.”

The name dies in Chu Wanning’s throat as his gaze falls upon the man behind him. He wears a long, black robe that hugs his tall frame. On the man’s face is a mask as dark as his clothing, with jewels of purple lining it.

Chu Wanning thinks, sadly, that it looks extremely expensive.

Much too expensive to belong to a man from Yuliang.

Chu Wanning does his best to squander the disappointment flaring up inside him. It’s his own fault for clinging onto some stupid fantasy. “Do you need something?”

The man laughs, and it sounds so achingly familiar Chu Wanning feels his heart squeeze in his chest. “Everyone’s had a turn with you. Do I not get one, too?”

A frown tugs at Chu Wanning’s lips. It looks like his plan of escaping into the night is hopeless. “Which family are you from?” he asks, the words rehearsed and monotone like they’ve been all night. He readies himself for the onslaught of humble bragging.

“Mm… not any you would’ve heard of.”

Chu Wanning’s brows pinch together. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t come from a well-known family.”

“Then…” Chu Wanning pauses. “Then what do you — ?”

The man steps closer and holds out his hand. “I may not have as much to give you as everyone else, but I was hoping I could still ask for a dance.”

Chu Wanning eyes the man suspiciously. He has no desire to mingle with him, but he won’t deny that he’s curious.

“I won’t dance with you,” Chu Wanning says after a long while. “But we can talk.”

***

There’s something strange about this man.

When Chu Wanning asks for his name, he doesn’t give it. When Chu Wanning leads them to a courtyard behind the palace to get away from the crowds, he doesn’t take advantage of the fact he now has his undivided attention. When Chu Wanning cranes his head to look at the stars above them, waiting for the man to speak, he instead lets the silence stretch between the both of them.

It’s a little torturous, being surrounded by quiet that allows his thoughts to run free. As he recalls the night and all the men who’d approached him, the faint pang in his chest he’s done his best to ignore becomes more noticeable.

Dozens of people vying for his attention, and Chu Wanning only ever wished to hear one name come out of their mouths.

It’s now been ten minutes, and the man beside Chu Wanning has yet to say anything. Chu Wanning casts him a side glance, finding the behavior odd. At this point, whatever charade he’s been trying to pull should be long over. Right now, Chu Wanning should be shooting him down and making his way to his bedroom for a much-needed night of sleep.

Instead the man stares at the sky with a faraway glance, his eyes shimmering with an emotion Chu Wanning has become all too familiar with in the last few months.

He sees it between Xue Zhengyong and Wang Chuqing.

He sees it between the couple who’d recently wedded at Yuliang.

He sees it in himself, sometimes, when…

Ah.

So that’s how it is, then.

“You’re not here for me.”

The man beside him blinks from his thoughts. “Excuse me?”

“You’re not saying anything.”

“Oh.” He laughs. “I was watching how you interacted with everyone else. You looked irritated, so I thought I’d steal you away to give you a chance to breathe.”

Chu Wanning highly doubts that, but nothing the man’s done so far suggests he’s lying. Chu Wanning purses his lips together. “Answer my question.”

“You didn’t ask me a question.”

“What are you here for? You obviously didn’t come looking to compete for my hand in marriage.”

“I didn’t?”

“No. It feels like…” Chu Wanning trails off.

A curious hum sounds from beside him. “Like what?”

“Like there’s someone you’re already in love with.”

Silence blankets them once more. The man puffs out a laugh, and it’s all the confirmation Chu Wanning needs.

“So I’m right.”

“What if I told you,” the stranger says, turning to fully face Chu Wanning, “that it feels like you’re the same?”

Chu Wanning doesn’t entertain that with a response. “If we’re done here, I’ll be leaving.”

“So there is someone.”

“It doesn’t concern you.”

“Are they here?”

Chu Wanning clenches his teeth together, his mood reaching a low it hadn’t all night. It really takes someone special to make Chu Wanning wish he was back in the banquet hall, dealing with ignorant and scheming men rather than whatever the hell was going on here. As his temper flares, a heat he hasn’t felt in weeks scorches his chest and compounds the already rising temperature of his body.

In the night, a red glow lights the air around them.

“Dragonblood crystal? Who’s that from?”

“No one,” Chu Wanning hisses. “Goodbye.”

The man actually has the nerve to grab his wrist, keeping him put.

“No one? Or no one important?”

“Obviously they’re important if I’m wearing it,” Chu Wanning snaps, not even able to tolerate the accusation that Mo Ran isn’t someone special to him. “Now let go of me.”

“Do they — ?”

“What’s wrong with you!” Chu Wanning yells, his already stretched-thin control bursting. “Asking me this and that! Taking up my time for no good reason! If you’re here to criticize me for my decisions, then I can assure you I’ve heard it all before, from a man much better than you, and— Why are you laughing?!”

The man holding his hand laces their fingers together, which slot with perfect ease. The action infuriates Chu Wanning, and he has half a mind to break the man’s fingers, consequences be damned, before he hears him speak up again. “Even when you’re yelling at me, holding your hand makes me feel warm.”

Of course it is. I held your hand, Chu Wanning.

Chu Wanning feels the breath punch out of him, his red-rimmed eyes widening. He stares at the black mask in front of him, at the way it encompasses eyes suddenly filled with warmth, hope, and joy, and then he notices a dull red glow from beneath the man’s black robes.

Chu Wanning’s voice is hoarse when he speaks next. “Mo Ran?”

There’s no reply, but Chu Wanning doesn’t need it. He reaches up with a shaky hand to remove the stranger’s mask. The man quickly grabs his wrist, stopping him, and leans down to press their lips together.

It’s strange, the fact Chu Wanning and Mo Ran have never kissed before, but Chu Wanning can say without a shadow of doubt Mo Ran is who he’s kissing now. Careful, probing touches that morph into desperate, possessive ones. Hands that wander down to his waist and hold him close, with a security he’s felt many times before. It’s all reflective of who he is.

Everything about the way Chu Wanning’s body reacts tells him that this is Mo Ran, too, from the instant static that fills his mind to the soothing warmth that surrounds his being, making him feel weightless and alive.

They kiss, though it’s more of a fumbling effort on Chu Wanning’s end, and it’s a culmination of months of repressed feelings poured into an instant.

“Marry me,” Mo Ran says.

Chu Wanning feels the press of those words into his lips more than he hears them. His fingers twitch in Mo Ran’s hold, bottom lip quivering as he stares into magnetic, dark eyes. “Mo Ran—”

“Wanning, marry me.”

***

Chu Wanning hadn’t replied, too overwhelmed to say anything, but there must have been something in his eyes that was answer enough for Mo Ran, because a few minutes later, they’re panting heavily into each other’s mouths.

“Baobei, fuck,” Mo Ran groans, pressing Chu Wanning into a pillar at the edge of the courtyard as he paws at the ties to his robe. “How do I get you out of this?”

The words force a whimper out of Chu Wanning, warmth embarrassingly pooling in his gut from the feeling of Mo Ran’s lips on his neck alone. “M-Mo Ran. Not here,” he pleads, placing a shaky hand on his shoulder. “We need to go back, or—”

Mo Ran knocks Chu Wanning’s mask off his face. Then there’s the sound of fabric tearing, followed by the sensation of cool, evening air tickling the bare skin of his legs, and it makes Chu Wanning’s knees buckle.

“Chu Wanning,” Mo Ran says, voice deep in a way that commands attention. “Wanning,” he then says, softer, and loops a finger through the pendant around Chu Wanning’s neck. “You’re mine.” Then, with a hint of desperation, “Say I’m yours.”

Chu Wanning’s mind spins. “I’m yours,” he whispers. “Mo Ran—”

“It was driving me crazy, seeing everyone walk up to you like they even had a chance.” Mo Ran grunts, mouthing along the cut of Chu Wanning’s jaw. “Every single one of them. I kept thinking they might be the person to take you away from me.”

“Mo Ran—”

“And you might’ve let them. Wanning,” Mo Ran breathes into his mouth, voice rough. “You’re a cruel man.”

Somehow, with the help of Chu Wanning’s dazed mind recalling the layout of the capital, they make it to Chu Wanning’s bedroom. Mo Ran turns on the light and Chu Wanning finds himself breathless as it illuminates Mo Ran’s maskless face, something he’d only been able to dream of for the last few weeks.

Now it’s in front of him again, kissing him, wanting him.

Mo Ran pulls Chu Wanning into another kiss, this one much gentler, much slower. Any other time, Chu Wanning is sure he would appreciate it. Now, there’s a franticness shooting through him, and he’s desperate to calm it down. With a slight tremble in his hands, Chu Wanning places them on Mo Ran’s chest, then slides them down to the ties of his robe.

Mo Ran gets the hint. He frees Chu Wanning from whatever fabric is still on his body and takes his own robes off. As they fall back onto the bed, Chu Wanning is overwhelmed by Mo Ran: Mo Ran’s hands on his waist, his sides, carding through his hair and tugging so Chu Wanning’s head falls back and bares his neck. Mo Ran’s lips are on his jaw, his throat, sucking marks into his collarbone and tonguing at his chest.

Mo Ran’s body is flush against his, skin to skin, and it makes Chu Wanning feel like he’s being consumed whole. Then Chu Wanning feels Mo Ran wrap a hand around the both of them, moving it in time to the sweet nothings and desperate groans whispered into his ears, and tears spring in Chu Wanning’s eyes as he claws at the wide expanse of Mo Ran’s back. He hurtles towards a pleasure he’s never felt before. It’s not long before Mo Ran groans into the skin of his shoulder as Chu Wanning whines into the air around them, and together, they fall over the edge.

***

Chu Wanning, once he’s recovered from bliss, realizes he doesn’t know how Mo Ran even got to the capital in the first place.

“You think I just laid in bed feeling sorry for my poor heart?” Mo Ran grins. “Wanning, you think too little of me. I was halfway here by foot when the darling prince’s carriage passed by. He said King Xue had specifically requested my presence. Speaking of, I’ll have to, uh, apologize to him later.”

Chu Wanning, currently held flush against Mo Ran’s side, frowns into the skin of Mo Ran’s upper arm. “What did you do?”

Mo Ran pouts. Chu Wanning narrows his eyes. “Wanning, what was I supposed to do? He came up to me and started talking about your big banquet. I was already angry and started yelling at him about it, and I, uh, may have grabbed him by the collar, but I didn’t hurt him, and I think we even bonded a little bit on the ride over here...”

Chu Wanning’s brow twitches. “Are you crazy? You almost fought your own prince? Do you know how much trouble you could’ve — !”

Mo Ran doesn’t know, and he seems to not care, either, not by the way he captures Chu Wanning in another kiss and bites his already-swollen lips to an even fiercer shade of red.

“I’d do it again,” Mo Ran promises, pouring his entire heart into the connection between their lips. “I’d do anything for you, Wanning.”

Chu Wanning shakes faintly as he looks up at Mo Ran, at his naked body hovering over him, filled with a heart he’d bared to him with honesty and trust. The press of Mo Ran’s skin against his reminds him that he’s much the same, laying everything out in its entirety in front of the man he cherishes, with no cover to hide behind. The only thing on either of their bodies right now are the dragonblood crystals, Mo Ran’s pooling right over where Chu Wanning’s rests against his chest.

“I’ll marry you,” Chu Wanning suddenly says, quietly. It might be silly of him to say it now, his feelings definitely clear if the last hour is anything to go by. Still, he owes it to Mo Ran to tell him directly. He owes it to himself, too. “Mo Ran, I want to be yours.”

Mo Ran freezes for only a split second before he breaks into the widest grin. “Wanning,” he breathes, capturing his lips once more. “Wanning, I love you.”

The words set off a fire in Chu Wanning's chest, one that spreads and burns until there’s not an inch of him that doesn’t feel their effect. He wants to gift Mo Ran those same words but feels too overwhelmed to do it now, still caught up in the fact Mo Ran is here with him.

So Chu Wanning kisses him back in reply, and hopes Mo Ran can feel it. The dragonblood crystal around his neck glows a blinding red.