Wei Ying, a carefree engineering student, crosses paths with Lan Wangji, the cold leader of a powerful mafia. Unaware of Lan Wangji’s true identity, Wei Ying is drawn into his dangerous world ...
The thrum of music reverberated through the club, lights pulsing to the beat as the night came alive around Wei Ying. He leaned against the bar, his bright smile flashing at his friends, laughing off the stress of his last exam. The engineering student had been working non-stop, and this was his chance to finally unwind.
His friends were gathered around, carefree and buzzing with energy, but there was something else tonight. Something that drew his attention away from the noise and chatter. Wei Ying wasn’t sure what it was at first, a strange sense prickling at the back of his neck, like he was being watched. He scanned the club with curious eyes until he spotted it - him.
Seated in the dimly lit VIP section, surrounded by men who looked far too serious for a club like this, was a figure that stood out from the rest. Dressed in a sharp black suit, a man exuded an air of calm control, his cold gaze sweeping over the crowd. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips, the glow of its ember briefly illuminating his chiseled features. Everything about him screamed danger, from the bodyguards stationed nearby to the cold, emotionless expression he wore like armor.
Wei Ying’s heart skipped a beat, and he couldn’t understand why. He wasn’t usually the type to be intimidated, especially not by someone sitting quietly at a distance. But something about this man - this stranger - made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, his pulse quickening for reasons he couldn’t quite grasp.
Wen Ning nudged him gently, pulling him back to reality. "Wei-ge, are you alright?"
Wei Ying blinked, forcing a laugh as he waved it off. "Yeah, yeah, just thinking about something."
Wen Ning’s soft, concerned gaze followed his line of sight before shifting uncomfortably. He said nothing more, but the tension in his posture was enough for Wei Ying to notice. "You know that guy?" Wei Ying asked, his curiosity piqued by the sudden change in his friend's demeanor.
Wen Ning shook his head quickly, his usual timid nature coming through. "No… I mean, I’ve seen him around, but it’s best not to get involved with people like him."
Wei Ying frowned. "People like him?"
Wen Ning swallowed nervously and didn’t offer more. Before Wei Ying could press further, his attention was stolen by the flashing lights of the dance floor, his friends pulling him into the crowd. But even as he danced and joked with them, his thoughts kept drifting back to that man, sitting in the shadows, watching.
And then he felt it - that pull. It was inexplicable, a magnetic force that tugged at him, making him glance back toward the VIP section. The man’s eyes, dark and unreadable, were fixed on him. Wei Ying couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to happen, something that would change the course of his night - maybe even his life.
The night wore on, and despite his best efforts to stay focused on his friends, Wei Ying found himself wandering closer to the VIP section, as if drawn by an invisible thread. The man still sat there, as silent and watchful as before, his presence commanding the space without a single word.
Wei Ying, ever the bold one, couldn’t resist the temptation to push boundaries. He moved closer, pretending to be interested in something by the bar, but his real goal was to see if he could get a reaction out of the cold, enigmatic figure.
With a playful grin, Wei Ying stepped up to the barrier that separated the VIP section from the rest of the club. "Got a light?" he called out, his voice loud enough to be heard over the music but casual, as if asking a stranger for a favor.
The man’s eyes flicked toward him, narrowing slightly, but his expression didn’t change. For a moment, Wei Ying thought he wouldn’t respond, but then, with a slow, deliberate movement, the man raised his hand, flicking open a silver lighter. The flame danced in the dim light, reflecting in the man’s cold, calculating gaze.
Wei Ying leaned in closer, his heart pounding in his chest as he lit his cigarette from the flame. Their faces were inches apart, and in that brief moment, Wei Ying felt the full force of the man’s presence. It was suffocating, but at the same time, thrilling in a way that made his blood race.
"Thanks," Wei Ying said, stepping back with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "You don’t talk much, do you?"
The man didn’t respond. He simply took a slow drag from his cigarette, his gaze never leaving Wei Ying. There was something unsettling in the silence, but Wei Ying, always the one to push limits, wasn’t deterred.
"You know," Wei Ying continued, trying to fill the silence, "you look like someone who enjoys watching people. Sitting here, all serious and quiet… Do you always come to clubs to sit in the dark?"
Still, no response. Wei Ying’s grin widened, though inside he felt a strange knot of tension forming. He didn’t know why he kept talking, why he felt the need to keep poking at this mysterious stranger, but something about the man’s cold demeanor intrigued him.
"Got a name, or do I get to call you ‘Mr. Mysterious’ all night?" Wei Ying teased, raising an eyebrow.
The man’s lips twitched, just the faintest hint of a reaction, but it was enough to make Wei Ying’s heart skip again. He could feel the danger radiating off this man, but there was something else there too, something that pulled him closer despite every instinct telling him to walk away.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the man spoke, his voice low and commanding. "Wangji."
"Wangji," Wei Ying repeated, testing the name on his tongue. It felt strange, foreign, but oddly fitting for someone like him. "Alright then, Wangji. I’ll remember that."
The man - Wangji - said nothing more, his gaze still locked on Wei Ying with an intensity that made him feel exposed, like he was being seen in a way no one else had ever seen him before.
For a moment, Wei Ying felt a chill run down his spine, but he quickly brushed it off with a laugh. "I bet there’s a story behind that name, huh? Guess I’ll have to stick around to find out."
What Wei Ying didn’t realize was how deep the connection already ran. Wangji’s eyes followed him as he returned to his group of friends, the silent tension between them still lingering in the air. Wen Ning had noticed too, his usually quiet demeanor even more withdrawn as he tried to steer Wei Ying away from the VIP section.
"You should be careful," Wen Qing said quietly when Wei Ying rejoined them, her sharp eyes catching the unease in the air. "People like him… they’re dangerous."
Wei Ying waved her off with a grin. "I’m not afraid of a little danger."
But something inside him knew that this was different. Wangji wasn’t just another stranger in a club. He wasn’t someone Wei Ying could charm and walk away from. There was a pull between them, something Wei Ying couldn’t quite name but felt in the pit of his stomach.
The night went on, but the tension didn’t fade. Every time Wei Ying glanced toward the VIP section, Wangji was there, watching, his presence looming over the room like a shadow. And despite the danger, despite the warnings from his friends, Wei Ying found himself drawn closer, his heart racing with each stolen glance.
It wasn’t just attraction. It was something more - something that scared him in ways he didn’t want to admit. But Wei Ying, ever the bold one, wasn’t ready to back down just yet.
The night had started to blur. Between the laughter and the thumping music, Wei Ying’s mind kept drifting back to the strange, magnetic connection he felt with Wangji. He couldn’t explain it. He wasn’t someone who got caught up in strangers’ eyes - yet there was something about Wangji that tugged at him, something that wouldn’t let go.
He excused himself from his group again, ignoring the concerned look Wen Qing shot his way. She was always watching out for him, more than he probably deserved, but tonight he wasn’t in the mood for overprotective friends. There was a pull toward Wangji that he couldn’t shake, and as reckless as it seemed, he wasn’t ready to turn his back on it.
He made his way back to the bar, pretending to casually survey the crowd. But in reality, his eyes were searching for Wangji. He found him easily - still seated, still surrounded by those silent, stern men. And still watching him with an intensity that made Wei Ying’s heart race.
Maybe it was the drinks, or maybe it was just his nature, but Wei Ying couldn’t resist pushing boundaries. He strolled toward the VIP section again, feeling the heat of Wangji’s gaze on him as he approached.
Wangji didn’t move as Wei Ying came closer, and this time, Wei Ying didn’t bother with any pretense. He leaned casually on the barrier, his bright smile flashing, the picture of someone who didn’t care about the danger he was walking into.
"You know," Wei Ying said, his tone playful but laced with curiosity, "I never expected to meet someone like you here. Most people who sit in the shadows are either avoiding something or watching for something. Which one are you?"
Wangji's eyes didn’t leave his, and for a moment, there was only silence between them. The noise of the club faded into the background, and Wei Ying felt the weight of Wangji’s attention settle on him like a physical thing.
Then, quietly, Wangji spoke, his voice low and controlled. "Neither."
It wasn’t much of an answer, but Wei Ying didn’t need much to keep going. He leaned a little closer, his smile widening. "So you’re not hiding, and you’re not watching? That’s hard to believe."
Wangji didn’t respond, just exhaled a slow puff of smoke, his expression unreadable. But Wei Ying could feel it - the shift in the air between them. He wasn’t sure when it had started, but something about this moment felt different, heavier, like the beginning of something neither of them could control.
"I’m Wei Ying," he offered, finally breaking the silence.
Wangji’s eyes flickered, just for a second. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was enough to make Wei Ying’s grin widen.
"Not much of a talker, huh?" Wei Ying teased. "But I bet you have a story. Something about you screams… interesting."
Wangji stayed silent for another beat, his gaze never leaving Wei Ying’s face. And then, in a voice so soft it barely carried over the noise of the club, he said, "Lan Zhan."
Wei Ying blinked, confused. "What?"
"My name," Wangji said, his tone unchanging, as if it were a simple fact. "Lan Zhan."
Wei Ying stared at him for a moment, processing. He’d expected something cold, something that fit the dangerous, enigmatic aura of the man sitting before him. But "Lan Zhan"? It sounded… soft. Too human for someone like Wangji.
Still, Wei Ying wasn’t one to overthink things. He laughed, a bright, carefree sound that contrasted sharply with the tension between them. "Lan Zhan, huh? Somehow, I like it better than Wangji."
There was no reaction from Wangji, no hint of what revealing his real name had cost him. But Wei Ying felt something shift again, a subtle change in the air between them, like the beginning of something he wasn’t sure he was ready for.
He didn’t know why Wangji - Lan Zhan - had told him his real name. It seemed out of place, unnecessary. But for some reason, it didn’t feel like an accident. It felt deliberate, like a move in a game Wei Ying wasn’t yet playing.
But if there was a game, Wei Ying wasn’t about to back down.
The night ended, but the weight of that brief interaction stayed with Wei Ying long after he left the club. He hadn’t thought much of it at first—just another strange encounter in a city filled with them. But as the days went on, he found his mind drifting back to Lan Zhan, the man who seemed more myth than reality.
Meanwhile, across the city, in the headquarters of the Lan Clan Mafia, Lan Zhan sat in silence. The cold, emotionless expression he always wore was still in place, but his thoughts were far from indifferent. He couldn’t shake the image of Wei Ying, the bright, bold student who had walked straight into his world without realizing the danger that surrounded him.
His uncle, Lan Qiren, sat across from him, his stern face betraying none of the concern he felt for his nephew. "You’ve been distracted lately," Lan Qiren said, his voice hard but not unkind. "That’s dangerous in our world."
Lan Zhan didn’t respond immediately, his mind still occupied with thoughts of Wei Ying. He had never allowed anyone to get close to him, never let anyone inside his carefully constructed walls. But there was something about Wei Ying that unsettled him - something that made him feel emotions he had long since buried.
"I’m not distracted," Lan Zhan replied finally, his voice flat. "I know what I’m doing."
Lan Xichen, his older brother, sat beside Lan Qiren, his expression softer but just as serious. "No one doubts your control," Lan Xichen said gently. "But you’ve never let anyone close before. If this boy becomes a weakness…"
"He won’t," Lan Zhan cut in sharply, his tone final.
Lan Qiren’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t press the issue. "Just remember," he said, "in our world, attachments are dangerous. Emotions can be exploited."
Lan Zhan’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. He knew his uncle was right. He had built his empire on control, on the absence of emotion. But Wei Ying had gotten under his skin in a way no one else had. And that was something Lan Zhan couldn’t ignore.
Days turned into weeks, and Wei Ying found himself thinking about Lan Zhan more than he wanted to admit. He still didn’t know much about the man - only that he was dangerous, and that the pull between them hadn’t faded since that night in the club.
Wen Ning and Wen Qing had noticed the change in him, though they said little about it. Wen Ning was still as quiet as ever, his concern obvious in the way he hovered around Wei Ying, always trying to pull him back to safer ground. Wen Qing, on the other hand, was more direct.
"You’ve been distracted lately," she said one afternoon as they sat in the library, supposedly studying but with Wei Ying’s mind clearly elsewhere.
Wei Ying laughed it off, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "I’m fine. Just thinking about… stuff."
Wen Qing’s sharp gaze didn’t miss the shift in his tone. "Stuff, huh? Does this ‘stuff’ have anything to do with the guy you met at the club?"
Wei Ying’s grin faltered for a second before he quickly recovered. "What, Lan Zhan? Nah, he’s just some mysterious guy with a scary look. Nothing more."
But Wen Qing wasn’t convinced. "People like him… they’re not safe, Wei Ying. You know that, right?"
Wei Ying waved her off, but inside, a part of him knew she was right. Lan Zhan wasn’t safe. Everything about him screamed danger, and yet Wei Ying couldn’t stay away. There was something about Lan Zhan that pulled him in, something that made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t felt before.
Wei Ying’s life returned to normal - or at least, that’s what he told himself. Classes, late nights studying with his friends, and the occasional night out at the club. On the surface, everything was the same. But in the back of his mind, something had changed. He could feel it, even if he couldn’t explain it.
At first, it was small things. A familiar face in the crowd outside the library, the same black car parked near the university gates every day, the quiet whispers from his friends about how he seemed distant lately. Wei Ying brushed it all off as coincidence—after all, he wasn’t someone who worried about these things.
But as the days went on, the feeling became harder to ignore. The familiar face wasn’t just a passerby. It was one of Wangji’s men. Wei Ying had seen him at the club before, standing behind Wangji like a shadow. And the black car? It wasn’t just parked by chance. He’d noticed it at least five different times, always nearby, never moving.
At first, he laughed it off, joking to his friends about how he had his own personal stalker. But inside, that strange pull of fear began to build. It wasn’t just random anymore. Someone—Wangji—was watching him. And suddenly, his once carefree world didn’t feel so safe.
Wei Ying was no stranger to attention, but this was different. Everywhere he went, the sensation of being followed, watched, crawled under his skin. In class, he felt eyes on him, even when the room was quiet. On his walks through campus, he caught glimpses of Wangji’s men standing in the distance, never too close, but always there.
And then there were the nights when Wei Ying couldn’t sleep. His once carefree mind was now occupied with thoughts of Lan Zhan, the mysterious stranger who had somehow ensnared him in a web he didn’t even understand. He knew Wangji’s people were watching him, but what disturbed him more was the knowledge that sometimes, Wangji himself was there.
One night, after a long evening of studying, Wei Ying stepped out of the university library. The campus was nearly empty, the late hour keeping most students indoors. As he walked down the quiet path leading to the dorms, he felt it again - that presence, the weight of eyes on him.
He glanced over his shoulder, and there he was. Standing in the shadow of a tree, as still as a statue, was Lan Zhan. His bodyguards lingered nearby, but they were silent, unobtrusive. It was his gaze that held him in place, cold and watchful, like a predator observing its prey.
Wei Ying’s heart raced, and he quickened his pace, pretending he hadn’t seen him. But the truth was, he couldn’t shake the feeling that no matter how far he went, Wangji was always just a step behind.
The more time passed, the more Wei Ying’s unease grew. He tried to act like everything was fine - smiling, joking with his friends, pretending that his world hadn’t been turned upside down. But his carefree nature was slipping. The restlessness, the fear, was gnawing at him, and even Wen Ning could see it.
"You’re not yourself, Wei-ge," Wen Ning said one afternoon, his voice soft but full of concern. They were sitting in the campus café, Wen Ning fidgeting with his cup while Wei Ying stared out the window, distracted.
"I’m fine," Wei Ying lied, forcing a grin. "Just tired. I’ve been working too much lately."
Wen Ning didn’t press, but his worried gaze lingered. And that only made Wei Ying’s stomach churn with guilt. His friends didn’t know the truth, not really. They didn’t understand the weight that was slowly crushing him.
Later that evening, Wei Ying sat alone in his dorm room, the silence weighing heavily on him. His phone buzzed with messages from his friends, inviting him out, but he ignored them. The constant feeling of being watched, of being trapped in someone else’s game, had taken its toll.
He glanced toward the window, and for a moment, he swore he saw movement outside. His heart jumped in his chest, but when he blinked, there was nothing there. Still, the sensation lingered. He was being watched. And no matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise, he couldn’t escape it.
The next night, Wei Ying had had enough. He couldn’t keep living like this, couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine. He had to confront Lan Zhan, even if it meant walking into the lion’s den.
He made his way to the club where they had first met, his pulse quickening with every step. When he arrived, the bouncers at the door gave him a look, but they didn’t stop him. Apparently, Wangji had left instructions.
Wei Ying pushed through the crowd, his eyes scanning the VIP section until he saw him. Wangji was seated in his usual spot, surrounded by his men, his expression as cold and detached as ever. But when Wei Ying approached, there was a flicker of something in his gaze - something dark and possessive.
"You’ve been following me," Wei Ying said bluntly, stepping closer than he should have. "Your men… you… everywhere I go, you’re there."
Wangji didn’t deny it. He didn’t even blink. He simply exhaled a puff of smoke, his gaze unwavering as he regarded Wei Ying with an intensity that made his skin crawl.
"Why?" Wei Ying demanded, his voice rising. "What do you want from me?"
Wangji’s silence was unnerving, and for a moment, Wei Ying felt the first real tendrils of fear snake through him. This wasn’t a game. This was real, and he was standing in the center of something far more dangerous than he had ever imagined.
"You can’t run from this," Wangji finally said, his voice low and calm. "You belong to me now."
Wei Ying’s heart raced, his breath catching in his throat. He wanted to deny it, wanted to shout that he wasn’t anyone’s to claim. But something about Wangji’s words struck deep, and for the first time, he realized just how tightly he was caught in the man’s web.
After that confrontation, things changed. The surveillance didn’t stop, but now Wei Ying was acutely aware of it. Everywhere he went, he could feel Wangji’s presence - or the presence of his men - lurking just beyond his line of sight.
His restlessness turned into fear. At school, his concentration faltered. His professors noticed, and his grades began to slip. His friends, especially Wen Qing and Wen Ning, tried to help, but Wei Ying couldn’t tell them the truth. He couldn’t explain the hold Wangji had over him.
One evening, as he sat alone in the library, his phone buzzed with a text. It was from an unknown number, but the message was clear:
Come outside.
Wei Ying’s hands shook as he read it. He knew who it was. He knew what it meant. But despite the fear gnawing at him, a part of him - some strange, twisted part - wanted to see him again. Wanted to see Lan Zhan.
He stood from his desk, his legs feeling like they were made of lead as he walked to the door. When he stepped outside, the cool night air hit him, and there, waiting in the shadows, was Wangji.
He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. His presence was enough, and Wei Ying felt the pull stronger than ever. The fear, the confusion, the attraction - it all twisted together into something he couldn’t fight anymore.
Wangji stepped closer, his bodyguards keeping their distance, and Wei Ying felt his heart pound in his chest. "You don’t have to keep following me," Wei Ying said, his voice trembling despite himself. "You’ve already won."
Wangji’s lips barely moved, but his eyes softened - just for a moment, just enough for Wei Ying to catch the flicker of something deeper beneath that cold exterior. "I always win," Wangji said, his voice as steady as ever. "But this isn’t a game."
Wei Ying’s nights had become restless, filled with thoughts of Wangji’s ever-looming presence. No matter where he went, he could feel the invisible threads binding him to the man he couldn’t shake, the man who haunted his every step.
It was late, and Wei Ying was walking home after a quiet evening out, trying to regain some semblance of normalcy. The streets were mostly empty, the occasional car passing by under the flickering streetlights. But as he walked through a quieter part of town, he felt it again—the distinct, oppressive sensation of being watched.
This time, however, it wasn’t Wangji’s calm, controlled gaze that sent shivers down his spine. No, this was something darker. He turned a corner, and before he could react, a hand clamped over his mouth, yanking him into a narrow alley. The man who grabbed him was large, his face twisted in a sneer as he slammed Wei Ying against the brick wall.
"Thought you could walk through here without paying the price?" the man growled, his grip tightening around Wei Ying’s throat.
Wei Ying struggled to breathe, panic flooding his senses as the man’s hand pressed harder. His mind raced, and he tried to fight back, but his strength was nothing compared to the man towering over him.
The man’s free hand reached into his coat, pulling out a knife that glinted ominously in the dim light. Wei Ying’s heart raced, fear spiking through him like a jolt of electricity. He was outmatched, completely at the mercy of this stranger.
But before the knife could touch him, a sharp, authoritative voice cut through the darkness.
"Let him go."
The words were cold, quiet, but they carried a weight that made Wei Ying’s captor freeze. The man turned, and there, at the mouth of the alley, stood Wangji. His face was expressionless, but his eyes burned with a dangerous intensity.
The man holding Wei Ying laughed, though there was a nervous edge to it. "What, you think you can -"
Before the man could finish his sentence, Wangji moved. It was so fast that Wei Ying barely had time to process it. One moment, the man was laughing; the next, Wangji’s hand was gripping his throat, pulling him away from Wei Ying with brutal force.
Wei Ying fell to the ground, gasping for air, his vision blurry as he tried to process what was happening. He heard the struggle above him - the grunts of the man as he tried to fight back, the sickening crack of bone. Then, silence.
When Wei Ying’s vision cleared, the man was lying motionless on the ground, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle. Wangji stood over him, his expression unchanged, as though nothing had happened. The knife, which had fallen from the man’s hand, lay discarded on the pavement.
Wangji’s eyes flicked down to Wei Ying, and for the first time, Wei Ying saw something flicker in them - concern, maybe, or regret. But it was fleeting, replaced by the familiar coldness as Wangji stepped closer.
"You’re hurt," Wangji said, his voice calm, but there was an edge of tension beneath it.
Wei Ying didn’t answer at first. His arm throbbed where the man had grabbed him, and his throat ached from the pressure that had been applied moments before. He felt weak, disoriented, his mind still trying to catch up with the events that had just unfolded.
"Why did you…?" Wei Ying’s voice trembled, his body still shaking from the adrenaline. "You killed him."
Wangji didn’t flinch. "He was a threat."
Wei Ying stared at the lifeless body on the ground, bile rising in his throat. He had known Wangji was dangerous, known that the world Wangji belonged to was filled with violence and power. But seeing it - seeing someone die in front of him - was a reality he hadn’t been prepared for.
"You didn’t have to kill him," Wei Ying whispered, his voice barely audible.
Wangji knelt beside him, his gaze steady as he reached out to touch Wei Ying’s injured arm. "He hurt you. He would have done worse."
Wei Ying flinched away from his touch, the fear and confusion swirling inside him too overwhelming to bear. "Don’t - don’t touch me."
For the first time, something like regret passed over Wangji’s face. His hand hovered in the air for a moment before he pulled it back, his expression hardening once more. "You need medical attention."
The days following the attack were a blur of pain and confusion for Wei Ying. His injuries weren’t life-threatening, but the emotional damage ran far deeper. He had been sent to the hospital, where doctors tended to his bruised throat and his aching arm. The physical wounds would heal, but the sight of the man lying dead in the alley haunted him.
Wangji hadn’t left his side during the entire ordeal, his presence a constant, oppressive shadow. He had remained silent throughout the hospital visit, his expression unreadable, but Wei Ying could feel the weight of his control.
Once he was discharged, Wei Ying retreated to his apartment, shutting himself off from the world. He couldn’t face anyone - not his friends, not his siblings. He didn’t answer his phone, didn’t respond to the concerned messages from Jiang Yanli or Wen Ning. How could he explain what had happened? How could he tell them that he had seen a man die - had watched Wangji kill someone to protect him?
The weight of the events pressed down on him, suffocating him with guilt and fear. He stopped going to school, stopped leaving his apartment. The once vibrant, carefree Wei Ying had disappeared, replaced by someone who flinched at every shadow, who jumped at the slightest noise.
Jiang Yanli had visited once, her face full of concern, but Wei Ying had kept his answers short, refusing to let her see the full extent of what had happened. She had left with a promise to return, but Wei Ying knew he couldn’t keep hiding forever.
Wei Ying’s world had shrunk to the four walls of his apartment. The once-bright light that filled his life had dimmed, leaving him in a haze of isolation and fear. He tried to return to school once, but the sight of Wangji’s men, always watching from a distance, had sent him running back inside, his heart pounding in his chest.
He avoided everyone - his friends, his siblings. Jiang Yanli had come by several times, her concern growing with each visit, but Wei Ying kept her at arm’s length. He couldn’t let her get too close, couldn’t let her see the truth of what had happened. She didn’t belong in the dark world that had swallowed him whole.
The nights were the hardest. Wei Ying lay awake, staring at the ceiling, the memory of that night in the alley playing over and over in his mind. The man’s lifeless body, the crack of bone, the way Wangji had stepped in without hesitation, his cold gaze never wavering.
The weight of it all crushed him, making it hard to breathe. He had tried to convince himself that he could break free, that he could walk away from Wangji’s world. But deep down, he knew the truth.
He was trapped.
One night, as Wei Ying sat in the darkness of his apartment, a familiar, oppressive presence washed over him when the sound of the door creaking open echoed through the room. His heart sank. He didn’t need to look to know who it was.
Wangji's expression was as unreadable as ever, his presence filling the small apartment like a storm waiting to break.
"You’ve been avoiding me," Wangji said, his voice calm but carrying the weight of absolute authority.
Wei Ying didn’t move from his place on the couch. His body was tense, his hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as if trying to ground himself. "I’ve been recovering," he muttered, his voice hollow.
Wangji’s eyes swept over him, cold and assessing, taking in every detail of Wei Ying’s form. His gaze lingered on the faint bruises that hadn’t yet fully faded, the mark of the injury that had nearly broken Wei Ying’s spirit.
"You’re not hiding," Wangji said, stepping further into the room, his tone as emotionless as ever. "You’re running."
Wei Ying’s breath caught in his throat. He felt a familiar chill settle over him, the same feeling he’d had the night Wangji’s men had been following him, always one step behind. He wanted to argue, wanted to fight back, but the words died in his throat.
"You killed him," Wei Ying whispered, his voice shaking. "You killed someone, and I - "
"You were hurt," Wangji interrupted, his voice cutting through the air like a knife. "He was a threat. I eliminated him."
Wei Ying flinched at the coldness in Wangji’s words. There was no regret, no apology. It was simply fact - something Wangji had done without hesitation, without remorse. And that terrified Wei Ying more than anything.
"You didn’t have to kill him," Wei Ying said, his voice trembling despite his attempt to sound strong. "There were other ways…"
"There weren’t," Wangji replied, his gaze piercing through Wei Ying like ice. "Not in my world."
His world. The words echoed in Wei Ying’s mind, reminding him of the stark divide between them. Wangji’s world was one of power and violence, where human lives were pawns in a larger game of control. And now, whether Wei Ying wanted to admit it or not, he was part of that world.
"You belong to me," Wangji said, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming the small space. His voice was low, commanding, leaving no room for argument. "You can’t run from this."
Wei Ying’s heart pounded in his chest, the fear tightening around his throat. He stood from the couch, backing away from Wangji as if distance could protect him from the truth. "I never asked for this. I don’t want any part of your world."
Wangji’s gaze darkened, the air between them thick with tension. He closed the distance between them in a few swift steps, his hand reaching out to grab Wei Ying’s wrist. His grip was firm, but not painful - just a reminder of the power he held.
"You don’t have a choice," Wangji said softly, his voice almost a whisper. "You belong to me, Wei Ying."
Wei Ying’s breath hitched, his mind reeling from the intensity of Wangji’s presence. The weight of his words, the finality of them, left him feeling suffocated. He tried to pull away, but Wangji’s grip tightened just enough to hold him in place.
"I don’t want this," Wei Ying whispered, his voice breaking.
"It doesn’t matter what you want," Wangji said, his tone firm and unwavering. "You are mine, and I will protect what is mine."
Wei Ying’s body trembled, the fear and confusion swirling inside him like a storm. He wanted to fight back, wanted to break free from the grip Wangji had on him - both physically and emotionally. But deep down, he knew it was too late. Wangji’s world had already consumed him.
"I’ll protect you," Wangji repeated, his voice softer now, though no less commanding. "No one will hurt you again."
Wei Ying’s heart raced, the mix of emotions - fear, anger, confusion, and something deeper, something darker - leaving him breathless. He hated Wangji for what he represented, for the control he had over him. But there was something else there too, something that terrified him even more.
Because no matter how much Wei Ying tried to deny it, part of him was drawn to Wangji. Part of him wanted to believe that, in this dangerous world, Wangji’s protection was the only thing keeping him safe.
The following weeks were a blur. Wei Ying tried to return to his life, but nothing felt normal anymore. The weight of Wangji’s presence hung over him constantly, even when Wangji wasn’t physically there. His men continued to watch, lurking in the shadows, always close enough to remind Wei Ying that escape was impossible.
The fear had settled deep into Wei Ying’s bones.
One afternoon, as Wei Ying walked through a nearly empty street, he felt it again - the sensation of being watched. He glanced over his shoulder, his pulse quickening as he spotted the familiar black car parked nearby. His heart raced, panic rising in his chest.
He couldn’t take it anymore. The fear, the pressure, the constant surveillance - it was all too much.
Without thinking, Wei Ying broke into a run, his feet pounding against the pavement as he fled down the street. He didn’t know where he was going, didn’t care. He just needed to get away, to breathe, to feel like he was in control of his own life for once.
But no matter how fast he ran, he knew the truth. Wangji would always find him.
It didn’t take long for Wangji to catch up to him. Wei Ying had barely made it halfway down the street when he felt a strong hand grab his arm, yanking him back with enough force to send him stumbling.
He turned, breathless and terrified, to see Wangji standing there, his expression cold, his eyes blazing with something dark and possessive.
"You can’t run from me," Wangji said, his voice calm but laced with a quiet menace. "I told you. You belong to me."
Wei Ying’s heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in short, panicked bursts. He tried to pull away, but Wangji’s grip tightened, holding him in place.
"I don’t belong to anyone!" Wei Ying shouted, his voice trembling with fear and frustration. "You can’t control me!"
Wangji’s eyes narrowed, his grip on Wei Ying’s arm tightening to the point of pain. "You’re wrong," he said softly, his voice low and dangerous. "I control everything."
The weight of his words hit Wei Ying like a blow, the finality of them crushing whatever hope he had left of escaping. Wangji wasn’t just telling him. He was showing him.
"You are mine," Wangji said again, his tone leaving no room for argument. "And I will make sure you understand that."
With that, Wangji pulled Wei Ying closer, his body radiating dominance. Wei Ying’s breath caught in his throat, the fear swirling inside him mixing with something else - something darker, something he couldn’t quite name.
He hated this, hated the way Wangji made him feel. But he couldn’t deny the pull, the way his body responded to Wangji’s touch, the way his mind raced with thoughts he didn’t want to admit.
Wangji’s hand rested firmly at Wei Ying’s throat, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin. Wei Ying’s heart raced beneath the touch, his pulse quickening with a mix of fear, anger, and something more - something dangerous. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from Wangji’s eyes, which held him captive with their cold intensity. The feeling of being overpowered, both physically and emotionally, washed over him, leaving him breathless.
"You can’t keep doing this," Wei Ying whispered, his voice shaky but defiant. "You can’t control me like this."
Wangji’s lips barely moved, but his grip on Wei Ying remained steady. "I already am."
Those words sent a shiver down Wei Ying’s spine, his body trembling under Wangji’s hold. He could feel the truth of it - the control Wangji had over him, the way his presence dominated every aspect of his life. There was no escaping it, no breaking free from the invisible chains that bound him to this man.
Wangji’s fingers moved ever so slightly, his touch still firm but not painful. "You’ll learn to accept it," he said quietly, his voice laced with certainty. "You belong to me. Nothing will change that."
Wei Ying’s throat tightened under the pressure of Wangji’s hand, his body freezing in place. He wanted to fight, wanted to push back against the overwhelming dominance that radiated from Wangji. But something in him - the part that had already been broken by fear - kept him from resisting. His chest heaved with shallow breaths, and he hated the way his body responded to Wangji’s presence, to the intensity of his touch.
He hated the way his heart raced when Wangji was near, even though every logical part of his mind screamed at him to run, to fight. But Wangji was right. There was no running. There was no fighting. He belonged to Wangji now, whether he wanted to or not.
"Do you understand?" Wangji asked, his voice as steady and controlled as ever.
Wei Ying’s eyes fluttered closed for a brief moment, his head spinning with the weight of the situation. When he opened them again, he saw only the man in front of him - the man who held all the power, the man who could decide his fate with a single command.
Slowly, reluctantly, Wei Ying nodded. "I understand," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.
Wangji’s fingers eased from his throat, moving up to cup Wei Ying’s face in a gesture that felt both possessive and gentle at the same time. His thumb brushed lightly over Wei Ying’s cheek, and for a moment, the coldness in Wangji’s eyes softened, just enough for Wei Ying to catch a glimpse of something deeper.
But it was fleeting. The next moment, Wangji was pulling him closer, his grip firm but not forceful. "Good," Wangji murmured, his breath warm against Wei Ying’s skin. "You’ll see that it’s easier this way."
Without another word, Wangji led Wei Ying back to the apartment, his movements slow and deliberate, his presence an unspoken command that Wei Ying couldn’t ignore. Wei Ying’s mind raced, his thoughts tangled in a web of fear and confusion. But beneath it all, there was something else - a pull, a deep-seated desire that he couldn’t understand, couldn’t fight.
They reached the bedroom, and Wangji’s grip on Wei Ying’s wrist loosened, though his presence remained as commanding as ever. Wei Ying stood frozen, unsure of what to do, unsure of how to feel. His heart pounded in his chest, and he hated how vulnerable he felt under Wangji’s gaze.
The dominance radiating from him was suffocating, filling every inch of the small room, and Wei Ying felt it in his bones. His mind screamed at him to push back, to fight, but his body betrayed him. His pulse raced under Wangji’s fingers, and his breath hitched in his chest, fear and something far darker warring inside him.
"You’re mine," Wangji whispered, his voice low and commanding. There was no question, no hesitation in his tone. It was a fact, as certain as the rising sun. "Do you understand?"
Wei Ying’s lips parted, a protest forming on his tongue, but he couldn’t get the words out. His body trembled under the weight of Wangji’s presence, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might burst from his chest. He hated the way his body reacted to Wangji - hated the way his pulse quickened, the way his breath came in shallow gasps. But even more, he hated the way his mind had begun to blur the line between fear and desire.
Slowly, Wangji’s hand slid from Wei Ying’s throat to his jaw, tilting his head back slightly. Wei Ying’s breath hitched, his skin burning under Wangji’s touch, and he hated himself for the way his body leaned into it, the way his heart seemed to race toward something he didn’t want to acknowledge.
"You’ll never escape me," Wangji murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over Wei Ying’s lips, the touch so gentle it sent a shiver down Wei Ying’s spine. "I’ll always find you."
There was a strange possessiveness in Wangji’s tone, a dark promise that made Wei Ying’s throat tighten. His body felt as though it was caught in a storm - pulled in different directions, his mind screaming for him to run, while something deeper, something he didn’t want to name, kept him rooted in place.
And then Wangji’s lips were on his, firm and demanding, the kiss searing and unrelenting. There was no hesitation in the way Wangji claimed his mouth - no room for resistance. It wasn’t just a kiss. It was a statement, a declaration of ownership that left Wei Ying breathless and reeling.
Wei Ying gasped into the kiss, his hands instinctively moving to push Wangji away, but the effort was weak, half-hearted. His fingers curled against Wangji’s chest, but they didn’t push him back. Instead, they gripped the fabric of his coat, clinging to him as though he was the only thing keeping Wei Ying grounded in the storm of emotions raging inside him.
Wangji’s dominance was overwhelming, a force that consumed everything around them. The kiss was deep, hungry, filled with a quiet intensity that left no doubt as to who was in control. Wei Ying’s body trembled, his heart racing as he gave in, surrendering to the powerful pull between them. His mind blurred the edges of fear and desire, the line between resistance and submission fading with every second.
He hated how easily he yielded, how quickly his body responded to Wangji’s touch. But as Wangji deepened the kiss, his hand sliding to the back of Wei Ying’s neck, pulling him closer, Wei Ying couldn’t deny the rush of heat that flooded his veins, couldn’t fight the way his body seemed to melt into Wangji’s.
Wangji’s other hand moved to Wei Ying’s waist, his grip firm and possessive as he pulled him flush against him, leaving no space between their bodies. The warmth of Wangji’s body, the solid strength of him, sent a wave of heat through Wei Ying that left him dizzy, his mind spinning with the intensity of it all.
The kiss grew rougher, more demanding, and Wei Ying could feel the dominance in every movement, every brush of Wangji’s lips against his. He was being claimed, consumed, and it terrified him. But it also awakened something deep inside him - something dark and dangerous that he didn’t want to admit was there.
Wangji broke the kiss for a brief moment, his lips hovering just inches from Wei Ying’s, his breath warm against his skin. "Do you feel it?" Wangji asked, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. "You can’t escape this."
Wei Ying’s chest heaved, his breath ragged as he tried to catch it, his body trembling in Wangji’s grasp. He wanted to say no, wanted to tell Wangji that he didn’t feel anything. But the truth was undeniable. He felt it - the pull, the heat, the undeniable desire that had taken root in his chest, burning hotter with every second.
"I…" Wei Ying’s voice broke, his mind torn between the fear still gripping him and the rush of heat surging through his veins. He hated Wangji for what he had done to him, hated the way he controlled every part of his life. But in this moment, with Wangji’s lips so close to his, with the taste of him still lingering on his tongue, all he could feel was the dangerous, overwhelming desire that had replaced the fear.
Wangji’s lips descended again, cutting off any further protest, and this time Wei Ying didn’t resist. He let himself be consumed by the kiss, let himself fall into the storm of emotions swirling inside him. His fingers tightened against Wangji’s chest, his body pressing closer, craving the heat and strength of the man who had claimed him.
The kiss deepened, the intensity building with every second, and Wei Ying felt the last of his resistance crumble. His body responded to Wangji’s touch with a need he couldn’t deny, a desire that scared him more than anything. The fear was still there, but it had been swallowed by something far more dangerous - want.
Wangji’s dominance was undeniable, his control absolute, and Wei Ying found himself sinking into it, giving in to the pull that had been there from the beginning. His mind screamed at him to fight, to break free, but his body had already surrendered, lost in the heat of the moment, in the dangerous allure of Wangji’s touch.
And as Wangji’s lips moved against his, firm and commanding, Wei Ying knew that no matter how hard he tried, he would never truly be free of him.
The hospital room was filled with the faint hum of machinery, a sterile and lifeless backdrop to the overwhelming grief that gripped Jiang Yanli. She sat stiffly in one of the plastic chairs, her eyes red and puffy from the tears she had shed. But no matter how many tears fell, the truth remained.
Wei Ying was gone.
Her little brother - full of laughter, mischief, and warmth - was no longer with them. The doctors had tried to explain it, but the words had been muffled by the shock. They had found Wei Ying after a terrible accident, an incident that shouldn’t have happened. A car had hit him late at night, the circumstances unclear, and he had succumbed to his injuries. The idea that Wei Ying, her bright, resilient brother, had been lying there alone in the street, hurt and scared, was unbearable.
Jiang Yanli had felt her world tilt on its axis when the news came. Everything since then had been a blur. Now, sitting in the hospital, waiting for the final confirmation, the weight of the loss pressed down on her chest, suffocating her. She could barely breathe through the pain.
Jiang Cheng paced the room like a caged animal, his face pale, his hands clenched into fists. His anger and grief were palpable, simmering just below the surface, ready to explode. "How could this happen?" he growled, his voice raw with emotion. "Why was he out there alone? Who did this to him?"
Jiang Yanli watched him, her heart aching not just for herself, but for her brother. Jiang Cheng had always been fiercely protective of Wei Ying, despite the way they argued and teased each other. And now, the weight of that protection had come crashing down around him.
"He shouldn’t have been alone," Jiang Cheng muttered, his voice thick with guilt. "I should have been there. I should have do something."
Jiang Yanli stood, crossing the room to place a gentle hand on Jiang Cheng’s arm. "It wasn’t your fault," she said softly, though the words felt hollow in the face of their grief. "None of us could have known."
Jiang Cheng pulled away, his eyes blazing with unshed tears. "He’s gone, Yanli-jie. Wei Ying is gone, and there’s nothing we can do to change it!"
The outburst echoed in the quiet room, the rawness of his pain filling the space. Jiang Yanli’s heart broke all over again as she watched her brother’s struggle with the weight of his emotions.
Their adoptive parents, Zi Yuan and Fengmian, stood by the window, silent and still, their faces drawn and grief-stricken. Zi Yuan had always been the stricter of the two, her relationship with Wei Ying complicated by her need to keep him in line. But now, the tension between them had been replaced with a deep, aching sorrow.
Fengmian’s face was pale, his shoulders hunched as if he carried the weight of the world on his back. He had always treated Wei Ying like his own son, had raised him with the same love and care he had shown to Jiang Cheng and Yanli. Now, that love was laced with an unbearable loss.
Zi Yuan wiped a tear from her cheek, her hand trembling as she spoke. "He was so young," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Too young…"
Fengmian placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, his own eyes filled with pain. "We have to be strong for him," he said quietly, though the words seemed to be more for himself than anyone else.
The family was shattered, broken by the unexpected tragedy. The only sounds in the room were Jiang Cheng’s uneven breathing and the soft sobs of Zi Yuan as she leaned into Fengmian’s embrace.
The day of the funeral arrived, and the sky was overcast, casting a heavy, grey light over everything. It felt as though the world itself was mourning alongside them, the air thick with the weight of loss. The gathering was small, quiet, but the pain that hung over it was immense.
Jiang Yanli stood at the front, her heart heavy as she stared at the simple casket laid before them. The flowers that adorned it, white lilies and chrysanthemums, seemed too bright for the occasion, their beauty a stark contrast to the grief that filled her heart.
Beside her stood Jiang Cheng, his face pale and set in a hard line, but his eyes red-rimmed with tears he was too proud to let fall. His shoulders were tense, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. The anger and grief battled for dominance inside him, but neither could find release. He had always been protective of Wei Ying, even when they fought, even when they disagreed. Now, that protective instinct had nowhere to go, leaving him lost, helpless in the face of the one thing he couldn’t fight.
Behind them, their parents, Zi Yuan and Fengmian, stood close together, their expressions drawn and tired. Zi Yuan had never been an overly emotional woman, but today, there was no hiding the sorrow etched on her face. She had always pushed Wei Ying hard, wanting the best for him, wanting him to succeed despite his rebellious nature. But now, those years of tension seemed insignificant in the face of his loss.
Fengmian stood silently beside her, his face ashen, his eyes dull with grief. He had always treated Wei Ying like his own son, raising him with care and patience. But now, that bond had been severed in the cruelest way, and Fengmian could do nothing but watch as they laid Wei Ying to rest.
The few friends who had been able to come stood in quiet reverence, their faces mirroring the sadness that seemed to weigh on everyone’s shoulders. Wen Ning was there, his normally gentle eyes filled with unshed tears, his hands trembling as he held onto his sister, Wen Qing, for support. Wen Qing’s face was as calm as ever, but even she couldn’t hide the pain in her eyes, the tightness in her jaw as she fought to keep her composure.
The priest began to speak, his words solemn and filled with the weight of finality, but Jiang Yanli barely heard him. Her eyes were locked on the casket, on the finality of it all. Wei Ying was gone. Her brother, her mischievous, bright-eyed brother, would never smile at her again, never tease her or make her laugh. The reality of it crushed her, her heart aching with a pain so deep she thought she might drown in it.
As the priest’s words came to an end, the sound of soft weeping filled the air. The casket was lowered into the ground, and the finality of the moment hit them all at once. Jiang Yanli’s breath caught in her throat, her chest tightening as she watched the casket disappear from view. She wanted to scream, to beg for just one more moment, one more chance to say goodbye. But the words stuck in her throat, unable to escape.
Beside her, Jiang Cheng let out a quiet sob, the sound breaking through the silence like a knife. He turned his face away, unable to watch any longer, his shoulders shaking with the weight of his grief. For once, he wasn’t the strong, proud brother who always held it together. He was just a boy who had lost his brother, and there was no way to make sense of that kind of pain.
Fengmian placed a hand on Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, his own face lined with sorrow. "He’s at peace now," he said quietly, though the words felt empty, as though he didn’t quite believe them himself.
Zi Yuan wiped at her eyes with a handkerchief, her expression hard but pained. She had always been so strong, so composed, but even she couldn’t hide the grief that radiated from her.
The small group of mourners stood in silence for a long moment, the weight of the loss settling over them like a heavy blanket. It was done. Wei Ying was gone, and no amount of tears or words could change that.
The house was quiet when they returned from the cemetery, the air thick with the heaviness of loss. No one spoke as they gathered in the living room, the silence between them more telling than words could ever be. The space that Wei Ying had once filled with his laughter, his energy, was now empty, and the absence was felt in every corner of the room.
Jiang Yanli sat on the edge of the sofa, her hands folded tightly in her lap, her mind numb from the events of the day. She had cried all the tears she could cry, but the ache in her chest remained, a constant reminder that her brother was gone. She couldn’t stop replaying the moments in her mind - the last time she had seen him, the way he had smiled at her, even though it hadn’t reached his eyes. She had known something was wrong, but she hadn’t pushed him. And now, she would never get the chance to.
Jiang Cheng stood by the window, his back to the room, staring out at the darkening sky. He hadn’t said much since the funeral, his grief manifesting in silence rather than words. But Jiang Yanli knew him too well. She could see the tension in his posture, the way his shoulders were hunched, as though he were carrying the weight of the world on them. He blamed himself, she knew that much. He always had. He had always taken on the role of protector, and now, he felt as though he had failed.
Zi Yuan and Fengmian sat together, their hands intertwined, as they tried to find some comfort in each other’s presence. But the loss had hit them hard, and neither of them seemed to know how to cope with it.
The hours passed in silence, the weight of the grief hanging over them like a shadow that refused to lift. There were no more words to be said, no more tears to be shed. All that remained was the emptiness, the absence of the one person who had always brought light into their lives.
The night outside was vast, a sprawling ocean of glittering lights from the city below, stretching endlessly toward the horizon. From his penthouse high above the streets, Lan Wangji stood in silence, gazing out at the city that, to him, had always seemed like a living organism - a machine of power, violence, and control. A machine he ruled with an iron hand.
He stood, bare-chested, the cool glass of the window just inches from his skin. His breath was steady, even, though his thoughts were as cold and distant as the city lights. The soft glow of the skyline illuminated his sharp features, casting shadows along the planes of his face. His eyes, unreadable as ever, were fixed on nothing in particular - simply watching, observing.
A cigarette hung loosely between his fingers, the ember glowing faintly with each slow inhale. Smoke curled lazily from his lips, dissipating into the still air. The world below him was small, distant, a reminder of the life he had built and the power he wielded. But for all the control he had, for all the dominance he commanded, there was only one person in the world who could truly reach him - truly stir something deep within him.
The silence in the room was interrupted by the soft rustle of fabric.
Lan Wangji didn’t move, didn’t turn, but he knew who it was before the hand even touched him. The warmth of that presence was unmistakable, and as the hand brushed lightly against his back, a familiar, quiet heat bloomed where the fingers made contact.
Slowly, he exhaled a long breath, watching the smoke disappear into the air before he finally spoke. "You’re awake."
Behind him, wrapped loosely in a bedsheet that barely covered his lean frame, stood Wei Ying. His dark hair, tousled from sleep, fell loosely around his face, and his eyes - those bright, mischievous eyes - held a familiar spark as they met Lan Wangji’s in the reflection of the glass.
Wei Ying had changed over the years, matured in ways that only time could bring. But despite the confidence that had grown within him, there was still that playful edge to his smile, that teasing light that had never faded. His hand rested against Lan Wangji’s back, the touch gentle, intimate, and full of the unspoken bond they shared.
"You’re brooding again, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying said softly, his voice a quiet murmur that broke the stillness. "You know that’s bad for your health, right?"
Lan Wangji didn’t respond immediately, his gaze remaining fixed on the city outside. The coldness that had always been a part of him was still there, but Wei Ying had long since learned how to navigate that icy exterior. With Wei Ying, things were different. He had always been different.
"You should be resting," Lan Wangji said finally, his voice calm, measured.
Wei Ying smiled, stepping closer until his chest was almost pressed against Lan Wangji’s bare back. "Resting is boring. I’ve done enough of that over the last five years, don’t you think?"
Lan Wangji’s eyes flickered briefly, a subtle acknowledgment of the weight of those words. Five years. Five years since Wei Ying had faked his death, disappearing from the world to protect the ones he loved. Five years of living in the shadows, always at Lan Wangji’s side, always hidden from the dangers that lurked in the world beyond.
But those five years had changed Wei Ying in ways Lan Wangji had never expected. He had watched Wei Ying grow, watched him shed the fear and uncertainty that had once gripped him, and emerge stronger, more confident. But that playful nature, that teasing light, had never disappeared.
"You were always reckless," Lan Wangji said quietly, his tone carrying a weight of both affection and exasperation.
Wei Ying chuckled softly, his hand sliding down Lan Wangji’s arm until their fingers intertwined. "I wasn’t reckless. I made a calculated decision, Lan Zhan. You’re the one who agreed to help me fake my death, after all."
Lan Wangji’s grip on Wei Ying’s hand tightened slightly, his eyes darkening at the memory. He had agreed to it, yes. He had been the one to orchestrate every detail, ensuring that Wei Ying’s family and friends believed he was gone. But in doing so, he had kept Wei Ying safe - kept him by his side, where no one could reach him.
"You did it to protect them," Lan Wangji said, his voice low. "Your family."
"And to protect myself," Wei Ying added, stepping around Lan Wangji to face him fully. His hand remained in Lan Wangji’s, their fingers still entwined, but his expression had softened, the playfulness fading for a moment. "Your world is dangerous, Lan Zhan. I knew that from the beginning. I couldn’t let my family get caught up in it. And I couldn’t leave you to deal with it all alone."
Lan Wangji’s gaze swept over Wei Ying, taking in the slight changes in him - his more defined posture, the confidence that radiated from him even in his playful moments. He had grown, but he had remained loyal to the very core of who he was.
Wei Ying smiled, his eyes twinkling again as he leaned in closer. "You helped me. You protected me. But you also made me strong, Lan Zhan. You gave me the space to become who I am now."
Lan Wangji’s eyes softened, just for a moment, as his hand came up to cup Wei Ying’s jaw, his fingers brushing lightly over his skin. "You were always strong," he said quietly. "You just needed to realize it."
Wei Ying’s lips curved into a grin, and he leaned into Lan Wangji’s touch, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. "And now that I’m alive and well, and standing right here... don’t you think I deserve a new title?"
Lan Wangji’s brow furrowed slightly, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "A new title?"
Wei Ying’s smile widened, his teasing nature returning in full force. "Well, since I’ve been by your side for the last five years, doesn’t that make me your... spouse? I think 'Madam Lan' has a nice ring to it, don’t you?"
Lan Wangji’s expression remained impassive, but the faintest hint of amusement flickered in his eyes. "Madam Lan?" he repeated, the words sounding foreign on his tongue.
Wei Ying laughed, the sound soft and full of mischief. "Why not? I’ve practically earned the title, don’t you think?"
Lan Wangji didn’t respond immediately, his gaze lingering on Wei Ying’s face, on the playful glint in his eyes. There had always been a magnetic pull between them, but now, standing here, five years after everything had changed, the connection felt deeper, more undeniable.
"You’re not 'Madam Lan,'" Lan Wangji said finally, his voice low and firm, though there was a quiet warmth in his tone that hadn’t been there before. "You’re Wei Ying."
Wei Ying’s smile softened, his hand reaching up to rest against Lan Wangji’s chest. "I’m yours," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I always have been."
The silence that followed was thick with unspoken words, with the weight of five years of shared secrets and quiet moments. Lan Wangji’s hand slid down to Wei Ying’s waist, pulling him closer, their bodies flush against one another. The tension between them, the slow burn that had always been there, simmered beneath the surface, waiting for release.
Wei Ying’s breath hitched slightly as Lan Wangji’s grip tightened, his eyes darkening with something deeper, something more primal. The world outside, the city with all its lights and noise, faded away, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in the quiet intimacy of the moment.
"You were always mine," Lan Wangji murmured, his lips brushing against Wei Ying’s ear. "And you always will be."
Wei Ying’s heart raced, his body responding to the quiet intensity of Lan Wangji’s words. He had grown more confident, more assured of himself, but there was something about Lan Wangji’s dominance, his quiet control, that still sent a shiver down his spine.
Slowly, deliberately, Lan Wangji’s lips found Wei Ying’s, the kiss deep and unhurried, filled with the weight of five years of unspoken desire. It was a kiss that spoke of possession, of control, but also of something softer, something that had grown between them over the years.
Wei Ying melted into the kiss, his hand sliding up to tangle in Lan Wangji’s hair, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him. The slow burn of desire that had always simmered between them ignited, the intensity of the moment building with each passing second.
Lan Wangji’s hand slid lower, gripping the fabric of the bedsheet that still clung loosely to Wei Ying’s form, and with one swift motion, the sheet fell to the floor.
Thank you so much for taking the time to read "In the Silence of Shadows, We Belong." This story has been a journey into the darker, more complex sides of love, power, and personal growth. Wei Ying and Lan Wangji’s dynamic was a constant balance of tension, dominance, and deep emotional connection, which made writing their journey both thrilling and rewarding.
Exploring Wei Ying’s transformation from a carefree, innocent student to a more confident, resilient individual was one of my favorite parts. His bond with Lan Wangji—full of power struggles, trust, and submission—really speaks to the intensity of their relationship, which I wanted to portray as both deeply dangerous and full of unspoken love.
I hope you felt the weight of their slow-burning affection, the risks they took, and the emotions that simmered just beneath the surface. Writing this allowed me to delve into both the darker side of romance and the tenderness that can exist even in the most perilous circumstances.
Thank you again for joining me on this journey through shadows, danger, and love. I hope you found something meaningful in their story.
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