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Lan Wangji wishes he was just about anywhere else right now. He’s not sure how he got himself into this situation, but he knows all too well why he is here.
His uncle is in secluded meditation and his brother is attending important sect business more than a week’s worth of travel away from Gusu. This left him solely to attend the conference called by none other than the Yiling Laozu himself.
The Yiling Laozu had seemingly appeared out of nowhere about three months into the Sunshot Campaign.
They were caught in a losing battle; a slow, creeping defeat when the eerie whistle of a dizi started to sound through the night. As the melody rose, the corpses all around them stirred to life and began slaughtering the encroaching Wen army.
Right before the battle ended, Lan Wangji saw him for the first time. The figure cloaked in shadows playing the dizi; silhouetted against the moonlight.
As soon as the Wens were defeated, the figure disappeared into the night, his corpse army dropping back into the soil as if they’d never risen at all.
The Yiling Laozu quickly became an uneasy ally; never lingering after the battles he helped them win. None had ever seen his face.
After Wen Ruohan’s assassination, the Yiling Laozu disappeared and did not return until several months later when he stole a group of Wens and settled in Yiling, soon earning him his new title.
He had been quiet. Until now.
Lan Wangji takes a polite sip from his cup as he tries and fails to ignore Ouyang-zongzhu and Yao-zongzhu’s gossip.
“Unbelievably shameless, to openly demand the clans bring him concubines. Just because he used his heretical cultivation to help us defeat the Wen-dogs, he thinks he can push us around now!”
Lan Wangji remembers the letter that sent him here vividly.
“I, the Yiling Laozu, hereby summon Lan-zongzhu to attend my conference in Yiling.
As payment for my aid in toppling the Wen sect, I expect each sect to bring me a tribute. I and the other men of my clan must begin sowing in spring. As our lands lack fertile ground, your assistance in improving this situation is required.
We are hoping to ensure a fruitful harvest, so only send your very best.
You must send the most potent and robust, as only those of utmost resiliency may survive.”
Of course, the Lan sect would never send any unwilling maidens to become the broodmare of a cruel man like the Yiling Laozu, and so Lan Wangji arrives alone and empty-handed.
The other sects seem to hold no such trepidations; Jin Guangshan is sitting surrounded by multiple veiled women, without a doubt looking to entice the Yiling Laozu into becoming his ally.
Lan Wangji is just about to take another sip from his cup when the doors violently slam open.
All eyes turn towards the doors as oppressive resentful energy begins to seep into the room.
Shadows begin to crawl over the walls and floor, bringing with them an unnatural darkness as a tall, slender man, thoroughly covered in inky tendrils, steps through the doorway. The sound of the doors closing is deafening in the silent room.
“Aiyah, it seems I am the last to arrive,” he drawls as he takes languid steps towards their group, black shadows trailing behind him like the train on a maiden’s wedding robe.
His gaze slowly drifts over the men and women gathered together, until his eyes lock onto Lan Wangji.
In only a few long strides, he is standing in front of Lan Wangji’s table; cocking his head slightly and bending to loom over him. His loosely tied robes fall forward, revealing enough of his chest that Lan Wangji could probably spot a nipple—not that he’s looking, of course!
“Just as I thought. The Lan clan has sent me Hanguang-jun instead of Zewu-jun.” From up close, the shadows waver around his face, revealing a teasing smile and silver eyes curved into amused little crescents. “This one must have spent too long away from the world, to have never heard of Hanguang-jun engaging in politics.”
“I do not,” Lan Wangji admits, willing himself to not stare at the other’s chest.
“And yet you’ve arrived empty-handed. Did you come here to deny me such a simple request? Or did your sect send you to till my fields yourself?”
Lan Wangji feels a strange heat rising inside of him at the other man’s words. To proposition him like this, after ordering each sect to bring him a concubine. Showing him glimpses of his face must be part of his ploy to seduce him. The Yiling Laozu is truly shameless!
Before Lan Wangji has the chance to call him out or drag him away to be punished for his brazen seduction attempt like he yearns to do, Jin Guangshan cuts in. “Yiling Laozu, surely you can forgive Hanguang-jun and the Lan Sect. The rest of us have done as you wished, after all, and each of our sects brought you a beautiful bride.”
At those words, the Yiling Laozu spins around to face Jin Guangshan, in turn presenting Lan Wangji with his sizable backside, clearly distinctive even under his wide robes. As if the amount of chest he is showing isn’t bad enough. Lan Wangji swallows at the sight. The Yiling Laozu’s seduction attempt is far too devious.
“Jin-zongzhu, with all due respect, surely you speak in jest. What am I to do with the women you brought me? Aren’t you a bit presumptuous? Because I practice a form of cultivation you do not approve of, you expect me to simply take any women to ravage? Send them away.”
Jin Guangshan's face goes pale, then red, then settles into the smooth mask of a politician attempting to save their negotiations. “If they are not to your liking, I’m sure we can find a bride you prefer—”
“If you cannot follow instructions, at least be quiet. Now, who’s next?” The Yiling Laozu turns to scour the rest of the assembled cultivators.
No longer able to take the disrespect, Yao-zongzhu yells, “How dare you reject Jin-zongzhu’s maidens so callously! Do you think you’re above even a highborn maiden?!”
The Yiling Laozu’s gaze snaps to Yao-zongzhu and the woman next to him, who is doing her best to avoid eye contact, “Aiyo, another one who can’t follow instructions. I have no interest in any of your maidens, and if I were to marry, it would only be to my equal. Is that clear?”
A murmur goes through the cultivators. A man this powerful in battle will hardly ever find his true equal.
“Ridiculous!” Ouyang-zongzhu shouts. “The only one who’d be able to match you is Hanguang-jun. Do you mean to tell us you’re here to steal him away as your concubine?”
“I accept.”
All eyes turn towards Lan Wangji, including the Yiling Laozu’s, whose mouth has gone slack behind the wavering smoke covering his features.
Then all hell breaks loose.
“How dare the Yiling Laozu debase Hanguang-jun?!”
“Utterly shameless!”
“Despicable!”
“I only wanted to plant potatoes—mmph! Mmphh!!!”
Lan Wangji rises in one swift, elegant motion as the other sect leaders continue to panic. Three long strides and he’s by the Yiling Laozu’s side, putting one hand on his small waist and directing him through the doors.
Once they’re outside, he releases the silencing spell.
“—cannot believe Hanguang-jun would treat me like this; I thought you were a gentleman—oh, I can speak!”
The shadows melt off the Yiling Laozu’s face, revealing high cheekbones, grey eyes and pouting lips.
“Uhm, I release you from your duties?” the Yiling Laozu says, eyeing Lan Wangji carefully.
“No need.”
“Ahaha, Lan er-gege, there really is no need. I was only trying to barter for seeds, so you are free to go.”
Lan Wangji refuses to believe such a thing. The Yiling Laozu’s appearance and mannerisms are clearly far too appealing to him specifically to be anything but a deliberate seduction attempt, never mind the fact that Lan Wangji himself had no idea he’d be attracted to someone like the Yiling Laozu.
“Mn, I will provide.”
With those words, he simply picks up the Yiling Laozu—far too light for a man who is nearly as tall as he is—and flings him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!” The Yiling Laozu angrily slaps his back as Lan Wangji steps on Bichen. “You can’t do this to me. Let me down right now!”
Lan Wangji wordlessly begins his flight towards the Burial Mounds.
When Lan Wangji steps into what seems to be the main building, he is confronted with an angry-looking woman clad in Wen robes, followed by an oddly shy-looking fierce corpse.
“Wei Wuxian, what have you gotten yourself into this time?”
Sensing his chance, Wei Wuxian begins wiggling again. Lan Wangji tightens his grip on him, one hand on his tiny waist, the other digging threateningly into his ass.
“Qing-jie, help! Hanguang-jun is kidnapping me,” he cries, face twisting into a pitiful little pout.
“You are in your own home,” Wen Qing sighs, clearly unimpressed with the Yiling Laozu’s antics.
“He’s kidnapping me to my own home!”
“I asked you to bring back seeds and fertile soil, and instead you are dragging another mouth to feed into our halls,” she scolds before fully turning to Lan Wangji.
“Hanguang-jun,” she bows politely. The corpse behind her mimics the action.
Lan Wangji bows back as best as he can, with a squirming Wei Wuxian still thrown over his shoulder. “Wen-guniang, please point me towards the Yiling Laozu’s chambers.”
Wen Qing gestures towards a door as Wei Wuxian gasps in betrayal.
Lan Wangji strides into the room and lets the doors slide shut behind him.
He drops Wei Wuxian onto the bed where the Yiling Laozu quickly shuffles away from him with a nervous laugh. “Aiyah Hanguang-jun, let’s call it here, okay? You can go home and tell everyone that the Yiling Laozu thoroughly ravaged you, if that’s what you’re after!”
Lan Wangji sends him an unimpressed look. “Unlikely.”
Wei Wuxian makes an outraged little sound, but Lan Wangji is already crawling after him onto the bed and pulling his robes open to bare his chest. He runs his hand over Wei Wuxian’s pale chest and brown nipples and watches as his breath catches, chest rising and falling faster as Lan Wangji gives him a pinch.
Wei Wuxian’s entire body jolts as he brings his still-clothed arms up and over his chest like a bullied maiden. “Lan Wangji, I thought you were a gentleman! How can you treat me like this?!”
Lan Wangji doesn’t respond, only bullies his way in between Wei Wuxian’s legs as he unties the sash holding Wei Wuxian’s robes together, and rips his flimsy trousers into pieces. He loosens his own robes until he can take himself in hand.
Wei Wuxian shrieks and tries to cover himself again, but Lan Wangji quickly catches both of his wrists and holds him down.
“Hanguang-jun, you’re really going too far now. I’ll call on my corpses for sure, if you don’t let me go and buy me a new pair of trousers!”
Lan Wangji gathers his wrists into the same hand and feels the fragile bones click under his fingers. He grinds his cock against Wei Wuxian, against where he’s already hard and leaking. “You won’t,” he says, and Wei Wuxian shudders underneath him.
He sinks his fingers into his ample cheeks and spreads him apart so he can rub his cock between his cheeks, against his hole.
Wei Wuxian’s eyes go wide, watching Lan Wangji’s huge cock drag against his hole. “I-in there? Surely Hanguang-jun jests.” His tone is pleading and his bottom lip quivers pitifully. “Please, not in there. I’m too small! I’ll break! You’ll break me for sure!”
Lan Wangji grinds against him more insistently until he feels a sticky wetness clinging to his cock. When he pulls away, he sees a clear, viscous substance slowly dripping out the Yiling Laozu.
Lan Wangji is transfixed. Is this a side effect of Wei Wuxian’s cultivation? Before meeting him, he would have expected modao to make the user more aggressive and domineering, but instead, it seems to have reshaped his body and made it easier for him to take another man’s cock.
Underneath him, Wei Wuxian squirms and tries to close his legs again. “Stop staring at it; this sometimes happens. Wen Qing says this is normal…”
Lan Wangji feels insane. He drops the slim wrists he’s been holding and plunges two fingers into Wei Wuxian’s tight little hole.
The effect is immediate. Wei Wuxian’s eyes go wide, his back bends, his hole flutters and clenches as Lan Wangji sinks his fingers deeper into the heat of his body.
Lan Wangji stares at where they’re connected, watches as his fingers thrust in and out of Wei Wuxian’s tight hole, as more slick leaks out around his fingers. Wei Wuxian is shaking underneath him, a constant stream of whimpered “ pleasepleasepleaseplease ” falling from his lips. Lan Wangji is not sure if he’s begging him to stop or to give him more. He pulls back, only to push a third finger into the waiting hole.
Wei Wuxian sobs, “It’s too much! My body is not built for this. Please spare me, Hanguang-jun, Lan er-gege, Lan Zhan!”
Lan Wangji freezes; his eyes are wide, ears bright red. He can hear the blood rushing in his ears at the familiar address. He yanks his fingers out of the other man’s hole and watches as it flutters and clenches around nothing.
Seemingly relieved, Wei Wuxian manages a shaky smile. “Ah, Hanguang-jun, for a moment I really thought you would—” His mouth falls open in a silent scream as Lan Wangji ruthlessly pushes his cock into the waiting hole.
Wei Wuxian’s fists beat uselessly against his chest as Lan Wangji thrusts into him until his hips are flush to his ass.
“Lan Zhan, how could you?” the Yiling Laozu sniffles. His fists are resting against Lan Wangji’s broad chest, clenching and unclenching as Lan Wangji grinds into him. “You’ve ruined me. I’ll never—ah!—I’ll never be the same after what you’ve done to me!”
Something possessive inside of Lan Wangji purrs at the thought of leaving his mark on Wei Wuxian, of changing the other man so fundamentally with his actions. He begins fucking Wei Wuxian in earnest, hips drawing all the way back until only the tip of his cock is inside of him before slamming all the way back in.
Wei Wuxian takes him beautifully, his tight hole greedy for his cock and come. It’s like he was made to be fucked. He’s crying earnestly now, pathetic little sobs bubbling out of him every time Lan Wangji’s cock thrusts into him at a particular angle.
Lan Wangji had thought him beautiful when he was still trying to hide his face behind a curtain of resentment, but now, seeing him spread out under him, cheeks flushed and face streaked with tears, Lan Wangji sees perfection.
“No more, please, no more,” Wei Wuxian whimpers, wrapping his legs around Lan Wangji’s hips as if to pull him deeper inside of him. “It’s too much; it feels—too much, I—” He digs his nails into Lan Wangji’s back as the other man grinds his cock into his prostate.
Lan Wangji slows his thrusts to a torturously slow pace and allows himself to languidly grind into Wei Wuxian. The man’s hazy expression clears slightly as he peers up at Lan Wangji in teary-eyed confusion. Grinding his hips in another slow circle, Lan Wangji watches the Yiling Laozu shudder underneath him, his thighs twitching with every deep thrust.
“Wha… Why are you stopping?” Wei Wuxian asks, looking particularly bullied.
“You said it was too much,” Lan Wangji reminds him. He gently brushes a strand of hair out of Wei Wuxian’s face and watches as he turns towards his palm and nuzzles against him.
“It is,” Wei Wuxian sniffles. “I hate this.”
Lan Wangji hums. He moves as if to pull out, but Wei Wuxian crosses his legs behind his back and locks him in place.
Lan Wangji tilts his head as if considering. “Maybe you don’t want it”—Wei Wuxian jolts as Lan Wangji thrusts into him harshly, forcing a pathetic sob out of him—“but you do need it.”
Wei Wuxian lets out another sob as he clenches around him and pulls him closer. “—I need it, I really need it. It’s too good, don’t stop, please, please—”
Lan Wangji kisses him, smashes his mouth against him so hard that their teeth clack. Wei Wuxian’s lips open easily, accepting his teeth and tongue eagerly.
He draws back and watches in satisfaction as Wei Wuxian chases after him for another kiss. Lan Wangji pulls out of him and Wei Wuxian makes a bereft little noise at the loss.
“Er-gege,” Wei Wuxian pants and shakily reaches his arms towards Lan Wangji. “Er-gege come back, don’t leave your Wei Ying empty, okay?”
Lan Wangji feels a wave of possessiveness roll over him. His Wei Ying, his Wei Ying, his Wei Ying.
Sitting up, he lets his eyes roam over Wei Wuxian for a moment. He looks beautiful like this; flushed, panting, and with tear tracks drying on his face.
Lan Wangji wraps his arms around Wei Wuxian and lifts him up until he is straddling his lap.
Wei Wuxian bites his lip as he reaches behind himself to line Lan Wangji’s cock against his hole, slowly letting himself sink down. That is, until Lan Wangji decides he’s waited long enough and grabs him by the hips to force him all the way down onto his cock.
Wei Wuxian yelps, then hits him on the chest. It hardly registers to Lan Wangji.
“You’re so awful! Since you met me, you’ve only ever been mean to me!”
Lan Wangji hums and begins to thrust into Wei Wuxian again. The Yiling Laozu gets the message, lifting himself off Lan Wangji’s cock and sinking back down in time with Lan Wangji’s thrusts.
“You were misbehaving,” Lan Wangji hums. “Seducing me.”
Wei Wuxian shakes his head, “I was not! Er-gege, be nicer to me; it’s my first time—you should be gentle!”
Lan Wangji’s grip on his hip turns bruising. “I will take responsibility,” he says with no intention of being gentle whatsoever.
Wei Wuxian wraps his arms around Lan Wangji. He is panting as he fucks himself faster on Lan Wangji’s cock. “Yeah? Gonna make me your little wife? Fuck me full of your seed until I’m round with your child—oh!” Recognition flashes across Wei Wuxian’s face; eyes going comically large as he realizes what has gotten him into this mess in the first place.
Lan Wangji does not leave him any time to contemplate how his choices have led him here; he fucks up into Wei Wuxian’s tight heat, making him cry out and spasm around him.
“Lan Zhan, er-gege, you’re fucking me so well. Are you gonna fill me up? Fuck my tight little pussy and give me your seed? Make me pregnant?”
Lan Wangji can only manage a choked “Wei Ying!” He is so close.
Undeterred, Wei Wuxian keeps talking. “Are you—are you going to drag the Yiling Laozu back to Gusu? Keep me locked away somewhere you can fuck me every day? Your personal little broodmare?”
Lan Wangji can feel Wei Wuxian’s dick twitch against his stomach at his own words. He can feel himself drawing closer and closer, teetering on the edge until he buries himself deep inside Wei Ying and comes. He’s never dual cultivated before, but he feels it now: his own yang energy rushing into Wei Ying like water spilling into an empty cauldron, the returning flood of yin.
Wei Wuxian shudders and jerks and comes at the sudden influx of yang rushing through his body. Eyes closed, his back bends in a beautiful curve and his mouth goes slack. His cock spills come all over his stomach and chest until it lies there, twitching and oversensitive like a scared little animal. Lan Wangji wants to scoop Wei Ying’s come and push it into his mouth, make him swallow his own seed.
Instead, he presses his finger to Wei Wuxian’s wrist while the other man is still semi passed out. Where once there must have been a powerful golden core, he only finds an empty cavern save for the spiritual energy he just sent into him, attempting to curl into the beginnings of a new golden core.
Lan Wangji arranges Wei Wuxian back on the bed and props him up until he’s kneeling face down, ass up for him.
Wei Wuxian blearily turns towards him. “Lan Zhan, what...?”
Lan Wangji draws a deep breath. “We have much work to do. We must dual cultivate at least five times per day to help you form a new core.”
Wei Wuxian’s eyes go wide with panic. “Nonononono, please ! Spare me! I’m weak! I’m spent! At least give me some time to recover!” he screams and tries to scramble away from him.
Lan Wangji shows him no such mercy.
Lan Xichen is flying as fast as he can. The messenger had taken half a week to find him, and it’s going to take another half a week for him to reach Yiling.
His heart is breaking for his poor baby brother, who’s been stolen away by the Yiling Laozu. Just thinking about someone so cruel and wicked having his way with his innocent, gentle brother is unthinkable.
Wangji’s first time should be with a sweet young woman or man; gentle touches after they made their bows. Lan Xichen can only hope he is not too late, that Lan Wangji has somehow avoided his captor’s perverse plans for him.
After days of constant travel, Lan Xichen arrives at a rickety house built directly into the mountains of the Burial Mounds.
The door opens before Lan Xichen has a chance to do something stupid, like attempting to single-handedly storm the Yiling Laozu’s lair, equipped only with his sword and the fury of a protective older brother.
Inside stands a timid-looking young man—no, a timid-looking fierce corpse!
“Lan-zongzhu,” the fierce corpse mumbles as he bows stiffly, “we’ve been waiting for you. Please follow me.”
Lan Xichen is brought to what must be a receiving hall. Inside, a young woman awaits him. Lan Xichen recognizes her at once: Wen Qing, Wen Ruohan’s niece, is famous for her skill in medicine. Despite the run-down state of their residence, her expression is arrogant as she eyes Lan Xichen.
“Lan-zongzhu, I see you have finally decided to collect your brother. It’s about time. It’s been nothing but trouble since he came here,” she scoffs. “Every day I have to go over there and bring healing salves and mixtures. I’m not sure how long a body can withstand such treatment. And don’t get me started on the noise—we had to apply talismans to muffle the crying.”
Lan Xichen feels himself pale at her words. “Please, bring me to Wangji, my little brother, I have to—”
Wen Qing waves him off as she stands, leisurely making her way across the room and down a hallway until they stand in front of a large set of doors that is completely plastered with silencing talismans.
Wen Qing raises a single eyebrow at him, almost as if to say ‘good luck’ before she turns and leaves.
Lan Xichen is left standing in front of the doors. His heart is thundering in his chest as he raises a shaking hand and knocks.
After a tense moment of silence, the doors glide open, revealing a young man clad in nothing but a red inner robe.
Lan Xichen can barely contain a gasp at the state of the poor man. His body is littered with bite marks and hickeys, trailing down his neck onto his chest, all too easy to see thanks to the indecently tied robe that is currently sliding down his shoulder.
Lan Xichen’s eyes involuntarily roam over the man’s body, from the clearly abused, bitten nipple to the pale thigh poking out of the slit of his robes—just as bitten and littered with handprints as the rest of the man.
Lan Xichen finally realizes he’s been staring and drags his eyes back towards the man’s face.
Two grey eyes look at him with what seems to be amused curiosity.
“Aiyah gege, are you here to rescue me?”
Lan Xichen feels a pang of guilt. He did not even consider that a man as vicious as the Yiling Laozu would have other concubines. The man in front of him is in truly horrible condition. If Wangji has suffered even a fraction of this abuse, Lan Xichen will never forgive himself.
Before he has a chance to say anything, a pair of hands emerge from the darkness and wrap around the concubine’s tiny waist. A moment later, a familiar white robe is thrown over the man’s shoulders.
Lan Xichen can only stare as his brother emerges from the darkness of the room, completely unharmed. The concubine immediately lets his head fall against his brother’s shoulder.
Lan Wangji gently fixes his robes until the other man is fully covered. His eyes are soft in a way Lan Xichen has never seen before.
“Xiongzhang,” Lan Wangji makes his best attempt at a greeting with his arms full of concubine, “this one is pleased to introduce you to his husband, Wei Ying, courtesy Wuxian.”
Lan Xichen watches in mild horror as the other man detaches himself from his brother to give him a deep bow.
Whatever words Wei Wuxian is saying never quite reach Lan Xichen as the horrible truth becomes clear to him. The man in front of him is no concubine of the Yiling Laozu—he is the Yiling Laozu. The bites, hickeys, and handprints littering his body are the works of his brother.
His little baby brother, who Lan Xichen had thought to be the pinnacle of virtue and restraint until now.
“It seems xiongzhang is currently indisposed,” Lan Wangji’s voice cuts into Lan Xichen’s spiraling thoughts. He’s already pulling Wei Wuxian back into the darkness of the room. “We’ll speak later; for now it’s time to strengthen—”
The rest of his sentence is cut off as the doors slam shut, reactivating the silencing talismans.
The fierce corpse comes shambling down the corridor and places another silencing talisman against the door. “Just in case… It used to be very loud when he first came back,” he mumbles as he gently but surely directs Lan Xichen back to the main hall.
Wen Qing is already waiting for Lan Xichen, without a doubt ready to shame him into paying an insane bride price for the Yiling Laozu of all people.
Oh well. As long as his brother is happy, Lan Xichen is willing to pay any price, even if the price is housing fifty or so Wens and a heretic necromancer. Lan Xichen is ready to endure it all.