Of all times for Lan Qiren's illness to worsen…

Lan Xichen clenched his fists at his sides. He could hear the horror taking place in the distance, the screams of his disciples and the sounds of swords opening flesh. Two more stood breathlessly waiting a command, looking nervously between him and his uncle. His uncle still sat calmly despite the blood still moist on his lips.

"Xichen," said Master Qiren. "The clan is alive only as long as you are. Even if I wanted to rebuild this place on my own, I could not. Go now. You are the only one who can protect us."

Xichen had never run from danger in his life. Neither did he seek it out of course, but to abandon his whole world here went against everything their clan taught about duty and piety. It took several deep breaths for him to view the situation objectively enough to see that his uncle was right. Moreover, if he did not leave now, he would have no chance of getting out alive.

While he tarried and tried to find some excuse to take his uncle or Wangji with him, his uncle got graciously to his feet and looked closely at him, in a way he had not done since Xichen was a child.

"Time is short," Qiren said. "It must be now."

Xichen bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted metal in order to control the overwhelming urge to draw his sword and protect his clan, even to the death. But that would not save this place, or their way of life from the Wen clan's destruction, nor would it make up for the horror that was currently being visited upon them. Though it broke his heart, he slowly raised his hands before him, clasping them together as he bowed his head before Master Qiren.

The master reciprocated his bow, then grabbed his arm with a firm grip and shoved him hard toward the door. "Go."

Xichen realized that the door was currently clear of sight of any Wen clan members. He hurried out and entered the forest beyond the Cloud Recesses in one leap. He told himself his uncle and Wangji would be safe, and they would be able to hide at least a few disciples in the Cold Pond Cave. As he raced through the forest, the sounds of battle fading behind him, the hole in his heart only grew wider. Intellectually, he knew he was doing the right thing. But his feelings had never clashed so badly with the cold logic of his clan before. He had never felt like such a coward.

As he reached the foot of the mountain, he stopped. He realized with a deep sinking feeling that he had nowhere to go. He could seek aid with the powerful Jin clan, the militaristic Nie clan, or even with Wangji's good friend in Yunmeng, but wherever he went, he would make the kindness of those who took him in into a target of the Wen clan. No matter what, he realized sadly, he must conceal his identity from now on.

His clothes were of the highest quality, and would reveal him to anyone as not only a great cultivator, but certainly a member of the Lan clan. He touched his robes regretfully. But after only a moment of reflection, he loosened his sash and belt, letting the metal drop flatly and the silk slither to the forest floor. He shrugged off his outer robe of cornflower blue and let it drape a nearby shrub instead of his own shoulders. He considered leaving Shuoyue, which was after all a well-known sword and was perhaps more identifiable than his own face, but he could not be defenseless either. He hid Liebing in his sleeve, and after briefly lamenting the loss of good silk, ripped his formed belt to make it longer. He twisted the fabric around Shuoyue, laying it over his back, and tied the torn fabric across his chest.

He was about to step out toward a public path when he realized he had neglected something. He raised his fingers to linger over the band of fabric that had covered his forehead for the better part of his life. Truly, he only removed it to bathe. While he was not as strict as his uncle or younger brother, of course his headband was just as vital to his connection to his clan and spiritual ancestors. To think of being without it during the daylight deepened his loneliness until it was painful. But there was no clearer identifier of a Lan clan member than that.

He slipped it off his forehead, holding it in his hand for a moment. But rather than leave it behind or hide it someplace he could not feel it, he wrapped it several times around his wrist. It was more risky, but he could not let go of this one piece of sentimentality. He also removed the pin keeping in his diadem and dropped the dragon-like metal ornament on the forest floor. As a final measure to conceal his face in a way that wasn't suspicious, he re-tied his hair in a much looser way, leaving large portions out to hang in front of his face. He stepped out into the oddly bright sunlight not as Zewu Jun, one of the Two Jades of Lan, or even a Gusu Lan member, but no one.

He realized as he walked that his feet felt shaky. He could not have predicted how much he would feel like a detached cloud just by removing the appearance of his clan. It was such a large part of who he was, he genuinely felt lost.

In a state similar to sleep-walking, his feet guided him in the direction of Qinghe. He walked for nearly two days with minimal rest, driven by lingering adrenaline and instability in his heart. Part of him had decided that the Nie clan was the safest choice, with such a strong military and no direct ties to him. But another force inside him yearned to see a particular familiar face, one that had stricken his heart deeply when they met once in the Cloud Recesses. He did not consciously acknowledge this desire, or its influence in his reasoning.

Suddenly, as he walked through a crowded city, he felt a hand grasp him. His heartbeat rose and he prepared to draw Shuoyue, turning to face the owner of the hand. Regret and relief broke over him at the sight.

"Meng Yao…" he murmured.

Meng Yao, though looking somewhat pale and weak, grasped his sleeve firmly with a look of concern. "Zewu Jun…what are you doing in such a place?"

He couldn't answer at first. He opened his mouth but the words seemed afraid to come out. Meng Yao seemed to read in his face that he couldn't answer and sighed softly.

"I have a room in the inn south of here. Will you come with me there?"

Xichen was overwhelmed with gratitude at the gesture, but he quickly shook his head. "If they should find me…it's too dangerous. I was heading toward the Unclean Realm…"

Meng Yao's expression tightened and he seemed in pain. "I'm afraid it's not safe there either."

Xichen closed his eyes, having feared that response. "…I cannot put you in danger."

Meng Yao quickly covered a look of surprise at Xichen's concern. As Xichen thought the first time they met, he seemed unused to people being concerned for him. But he shook his head. "This is no time for you to worry about that. This way, quickly."

Xichen was too exhausted to object any further as Meng Yao guided him into a quiet little inn in a secluded street. Inside the room, he helped Xichen to sit and then asked what had happened. Finally, able to think better without as much pain in his feet, Xichen was able to answer.

"The Cloud Recesses…" he said softly. "…are gone."

"Gone?!"

"Burned. I trust that my uncle, brother, and a few disciples must have survived, but the library is burned." The words tumbled out that he had practiced, but Xichen could feel there was no soul in his voice at this moment. He was so exhausted and ashamed of his appearance he could not look Meng Yao in the face. "Wen Chao came in broad daylight. He killed the most defenseless."

Xichen realized he was shaking again. Having to say the words out loud made what had happened seem more real. He could not go back to his home. Those dearest to him might now be dead, and even if they were not, their home and much of their history was burned. Blood of the innocent was now staining the white stones of their courtyard.

As he sat there at his lowest point, he was not sure what he was expecting, only that Meng Yao's was the only comforting face he had seen in the past two days. To his surprise, he felt soft hands touch his chest. They creeped up his shoulders and around his neck, and before he knew it he was enveloped in Meng Yao's arms. All his strength left him, and with a shaking breath, he clasped Meng Yao's small body tightly against his own.

It was several minutes before he realized with a gasp that he must be soiling Meng Yao's clothes. He backed away. "I'm sorry…I must smell like a stray dog…"

Meng Yao only shook his head. "I'll boil some water for a bath. Wait here."

Xichen nodded.

As Meng Yao left, he had a moment to think about how good it felt to be touched by him. Not just relief at his kindness, but a distant ache in his heart at the closeness and now a stinging one at Meng Yao's absence. Part of him was afraid of this feeling, but it paled in comparison to the part that felt warm and at home in Meng Yao's presence. He felt his own face brighten as Meng Yao returned.

The smaller man smiled for a moment in return, but then worry returned to his face. "Zewu Jun…you're not hurt are you?"

Xichen smiled and shook his head. "Not at all. My feet just hurt a little from walking."

Meng Yao nodded in understanding. "After you bathe you must rest. Come," he said, and Xichen was grateful when he took his hand again to guide him to the bath in the adjoining room.

The steam rising from the bath looked extremely inviting as Xichen could still feel the chill from the two previous nights sunken into his skin. He was so tired he started to undress while Meng Yao was still in the room. For his part, Meng Yao didn't seem bothered by this at all.

"Do you need help bathing or can you do it on your own?" he asked.

In all honesty he didn't want him to leave. But he assumed Meng Yao had his own business to attend to, assisting Nie Mingjue and Huaisang. It also seemed like asking for too much to be assisted while bathing when he wasn't really hurt.

He smiled reluctantly and shook his head. "I'll be fine."

"Then I'll go and find you a change of clothes. But there won't be much to choose from near here. I don't think anything but heavenly colors suits you, Zewu Jun," he muttered bitterly, seemingly to himself. Xichen thought he saw a blush tinging at Meng Yao's cheeks, and his heart fluttered at the cute expression. But the next moment, the delicate man swept out of the room. "I'll be back soon. Take your time."

Xichen sighed as loneliness hit him more sharply this time. But he had to wash this filth off him, and there was no way around that. He finished undressing, making sure Shuoyue and Liebing were within arm's reach, and sunk into the delightfully warm water. It was so comfortable unfortunately that he quickly slipped into a light sleep.

He did not hear Meng Yao knock on the door, or call for him. In fact he didn't hear him until tense fingers grasped him with worry and a voice near his ear cried, "Zewu Jun!"

He gasped awake. Meng Yao's face, full of worry, was the first thing he saw.

"You scared me half to death! You can't sleep in the bath! You should have told me if you were so tired!"

"Ah…I'm sorry…" Xichen mumbled, though still somewhat muddled by sleep.

Meng Yao bit his lip for a moment, frowning with concern. "I can't leave you like this…I'll just wash your hair for you, all right? Then you can sleep."

Xichen felt a moment of embarrassment at the thought that no one but family members had ever washed his hair for him, and not since he was a very small child. But he gratefully nodded, knowing how tired he was and how hard it would be to do it himself.

"Lean back," Meng Yao instructed softly.

He felt Meng Yao's hand slip behind him under the water, heedlessly wetting his own sleeve. He supported his back as Xichen leaned back and let his heavy, tangled head sink into the warm water. As the sound of water filled his ears, he could not help but close his eyes in deep contentment. He felt a kind of relaxation he had never known sink deep into his bones. Meng Yao's hand was small but held the back of his neck steadily, telling him silently that he was safe and cared for.

As he fought the urge to sleep, he felt Meng Yao's fingers loosen the tie in his hair and let it free under the water. They carefully untangled every knot, then ran over his scalp comfortingly again and again. Xichen's heart pounded with excitement in spite of his exhaustion. He allowed his eyes to open a little and watch Meng Yao's sleeves shielding his vision as they deftly worked. He almost felt tears reach his eyes at how happy he was at this moment, though even he couldn't say exactly why.

While he would have gladly let this feeling would go on for hours, it only took a few minutes for Meng Yao to finish washing his hair. "Come. I know you're tired but you must get dry," he told him, and guided him out of the bath again.

Meng Yao plopped a cloth on top of his head and did his best to rub the moisture out of Xichen's luxurious hair, though with their height difference this was quite difficult for him. He seemed to pay no mind at all to Xichen's nakedness during this process, a fact which Xichen himself would later reflect on with both great gratitude and great embarrassment. He even wrapped Xichen up in soft robes before bringing him into his bedroom.

Xichen felt heat reaching his own cheeks at the touch of Meng Yao's hand as he was guided into his bedroom. He wasn't sure what was about to happen, but somehow he felt he wouldn't mind whatever it was. Even though he had already felt a strong connection from the first time they met, just the past couple of hours had endeared Meng Yao to him deeply. He trusted him, and also badly needed whatever comfort he was willing to provide.

His heart fluttered as Meng Yao sat beside him on the bed. He still held his hand softly, and ran his thumb over Xichen's knuckles in an unbearably sweet gesture of affection. Xichen tilted his head down toward him to observe his delicate features as they sat in a few sweet moments of silence, although Meng Yao didn't seem to notice his gaze.

Meng Yao softly squeezed his hand. "I'm so sorry," he murmured. "Who ever thought the Wen clan would attack the Lan directly? To attack the most peaceful clan without warning…their brutality is really sickening."

With this, the deep comfort in Xichen's heart was broken with thoughts of his home and family. He felt his own fingers tighten around Meng Yao's small hand. He couldn't think of anything to say.

Meng Yao's free hand touched his shoulder and encouraged him to lay back. "Rest. I won't leave. Sleep until you have your strength back, then we can think of what to do next."

Words of irrational sentiment almost slipped from Lan Xichen's lips as Meng Yao's hands guided him into his bed. The bed smelled like him. Xichen closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. He was already half asleep as the blanket covered him in warmth and Meng Yao's scent. His hand stretched out and lay atop Meng Yao's as his consciousness finally drifted away.

When he woke, it was like clockwork to the first light of dawn at 5 in the morning, as was the custom in the Cloud Recesses. He suffered a wave of disorientation at the unfamiliar light and surroundings. It took him a moment to remember everything that had happened. He felt sick to his stomach thinking about the destruction of his home, and worry for Lan Qiren and Wangji.

But almost as quickly he wondered where Meng Yao was. He scanned the room and spotted a figure curled up on the nearby sofa with nothing but a robe draped over his clearly shivering body. Xichen didn't think as he got up with the blanket to cover the smaller man instead. Though he remained asleep, his shivering soon ceased. Xichen knelt beside him with a smile edging over his face, captivated by the innocence of his expression during sleep. He even boldly reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from his face. He marveled at the softness of his skin, and regretted leaving its touch.

Only now did he look down on himself and realize he was fully clothed. He was wearing simple white yi and chang, and gray shan, drawn in with a simple black belt. Though each item undoubtedly belonged to someone like Nie Mingjue, the style with which they had been put together more resembled Meng Yao's restrained taste he thought. He smiled a little at this.

He returned to the bathroom to find everything as he had left it the previous night. The bath was still full, though fully cold by now. His clothes were in a heap where he had left them, including his headband which he quickly wrapped around his wrist and concealed beneath his sleeve. He also placed Liebing there and retrieved Shuoyue from the tattered blue remains of his former sash. He decided no one would recognize it from a distance, so there was no need to continue hiding Shuoyue's presence. As he promised, Meng Yao really hadn't even left the room for a moment, he thought with a strange yet pleasant pang in his chest.

The events of the past few days left uncertainty settled over Lan Xichen's heart, and to quell it a little, he gazed out the window toward the quiet outside. His attention was caught by the small passing birds, which he thought resembled Meng Yao. Without his realizing, soon over an hour had passed in his quiet meditation.

He heard stirring on the sofa behind him. "Zewu Jun…" Meng Yao murmured. "Are you all right?"

As he turned to smile warmly at him, Meng Yao approached sleepily and laid a comforting hand on Xichen's arm. He covered it with his own, provoking a sudden blush from Meng Yao. He knew he was expected to say something, but for the moment he was so content he didn't want to interrupt the peaceful atmosphere.

Presently, sadness overtook Meng Yao's expression. "I'm so sorry about your home. I don't know how to help you," he said.

"You are helping me a great deal," Xichen assured him with surprise. "It means very much to me that you were kind enough not to leave me alone. And by allowing me to stay, you are saving my life at the risk of your own. I could hardly ask more than that."

Meng Yao sighed as if he expected this response. "As always, you are too humble. You could ask for anything and I would give it. Practically anyone would."

Xichen frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"Just…that you are very highly thought of. Anyone would be honored to serve you," Meng Yao replied reluctantly.

"And they wouldn't for you?"

The smaller man took in a sharp breath as if he had been prodded suddenly, apparently not having expected Xichen to understand him that deeply. His hand shifted under Xichen's, trying halfheartedly to break away from him.

"What are you saying?" Meng Yao mumbled. "Don't tease me."

"I would never tease you. I only wish you valued yourself more."

Meng Yao blinked rapidly and his eyes looked slightly red, but with that he did remove his hand and turn partly away from Xichen. "At any rate, let me serve you until the danger passes or until you find some other arrangement. Do not feel gratitude as this is only my selfish desire. Is there anything you need now?"

Xichen considered. Perhaps because his loneliness had weakened him, or perhaps it was the relentlessly adorable expression on Meng Yao's face when he was embarrassed, but he let his true desire at that moment reach his lips.

"Could I hold you for a little while?"

He couldn't place the expression on Meng Yao's face just then, his eyes lowered and lips parted, but he didn't seem upset. "Of course," he murmured gently. And without hesitation, he drew in close. He lay his head against Xichen's chest, clinging to his robes. Xichen surrounded him in his arms and unconsciously inhaled the scent of his hair. Meng Yao's body fit perfectly in the hollow of his arms. He had a feeling in that moment that time spent without this adorable creature curled up against him was time wasted. His heart was filled with gratitude and contentment, almost unfairly so given the situation that had given rise to this good fortune.

Why was Meng Yao so kind to him? he wondered. He had no obligation to do so. Although he was undoubtedly extremely intelligent and obviously had skill in politics, Xichen had never seen him so deferential toward anyone else. Indeed, a friendship with Lan Xichen wouldn't do much for him in terms of status. Could it be that he really cared for him?

This thought sent a thrill through Xichen's heart. He drew back slightly, taking Meng Yao's cheek softly in his hand. His heart hammered in his ears. This small face was so very dear to him. How happy he would be if Meng Yao felt the same.

Though he seemed surprised, he did not object to Xichen caressing his face. In fact the blush over his cheeks deepened, and his dark eyelashes fluttered against his porcelain cheeks. He may not have been a peacock like Jin Zixuan, but Xichen had always thought Meng Yao's beauty was widely underestimated. He ran his hand firmly up Meng Yao's back, drawing him even closer.

Meng Yao's full lips parted as a slight gasp escaped him. His dark eyes were focused on Xichen's lips. His chest rose and fell heavily against Xichen's own. The hunger to be even closer overcame him, and softly Xichen pressed his lips to Meng Yao's.

A small noise of surprise from Meng Yao echoed inside his mouth. He swallowed it as he tasted deeply of his lips, caressing them insistently with his own. He sank into the blissful feeling of sharing a sweet kiss with this precious person, even running his hands through the hair at the back of his neck and relishing the little shiver that ran over him.

But seemingly as quickly as it had begun, Meng Yao lightly pushed him back. His hand covered his mouth in embarrassment as he looked away. "You…must be hungry. I'll go and get us something to eat. I'll be right back."

In that small gesture and casually thrown out phrase, Xichen's heart sank. It might indeed simply be embarrassment. But Meng Yao had only just finished telling him that he would give him anything he wanted. Anything, it seemed, except that. He tried to remain positive, but with everything that had just happened, as he was left alone in the room, Xichen almost felt a physical pain as he thought to himself, Meng Yao did not feel the same way.