beauty is found deep in the soul

After the third bow, after finally having their lives put properly in place — here, in the mountains of Gusu where it matters, if not in the wider set of the world — after having whispered husband against a warm mouth until sleep had claimed him, Lan Wangji finds every reason he can to say it again.

He goes to Caiyi and speaks to shopkeepers for the opportunity to say it’s for my husband. My husband will appreciate this. They are my husband’s favourite. Wrap it, please, it is a gift for my husband.

It causes gossip, he knows, but this is the sort of gossip he doesn’t mind. Each repetition is one less Yiling Laozu, one more Hanguang-Jun’s husband, kept safe where the clouds come to rest until the cultivation world settles into something gentler. Something worthy of having his Wei Ying be part of it proper, not just for night-hunts and brief adventures with the juniors.

It also creates bonds Lan Wangji hasn’t had before. The man he buys liquor from asks two for your husband? each time he approaches the stall (and he could get more, make his trips less frequent, but then he wouldn’t get to have this; his marriage known and cared for in some small way by a stranger). The spice merchant puts bundles of ginger, chili, cassia in his basket, says your husband will like this! and Lan Wangji thanks her as much for the wares as for her words. 

And here, another reason to return often, to speak of Wei Ying with others: when they go together and stop by the stalls Lan Wangji frequents the merchants will smile and say ah, here’s the husband, finally! and the husband in question will laugh, and agree, and allow himself to be painted as belonging. In Gusu, in Caiyi, in Cloud Recesses.

Most importantly: with Lan Wangji.

It’s a thrill to think it, every time. To know that it is a fact that will never again be questioned and Lan Wangji keeps filling his mouth with the word husband over and over like an indulgence. There are many opportunities; every flash of red and black among the arid pavilions — excuse me, I see my husband. Before each meal; my husband is waiting for me.