Chapter Text
Three months after the Cloud Recesses Coastal Resort conference…
Lan Qiren had read the proposal exactly four times.
It did not improve.
He lowered the tablet with the air of a man discovering the apocalypse had somehow acquired official letterhead.
Worse.
The apocalypse had been approved by the Board.
“…Absolutely not.”
Across the polished conference table, Lan Xichen smiled with practiced serenity.
“The Board has already voted.”
Lan Qiren looked personally betrayed.
“They voted incorrectly.”
“The vote was unanimous.”
“…Incorrectly.”
A silence settled over the room.
Lan Xichen folded his hands.
“The Cloud Recesses Institute of Spiritual Innovation is intended to guide cultivation into the next century.”
“It seems intended,” Lan Qiren replied dryly, “to install Wei Wuxian permanently within Cloud Recesses.”
Lan Xichen inclined his head.
“…Also yes.”
Lan Qiren closed his eyes.
He had spent decades preserving Lan discipline…
Teaching restraint.
Order.
Tradition.
Now his trusted, oldest nephew wished to hand laboratory keys—and an unlimited research budget—to the single most unpredictable cultivator alive.
“It will be fine,” Lan Xichen said gently.
“It will not.”
“Wangji supports the decision.”
Lan Qiren paused.
“…He does?”
“He submitted a twelve-page report.”
That gave Lan Qiren hope.
“Wangji has apprehensions?”
Lan Xichen smiled.
“No.”
“He requested a larger laboratory.”
“…”
“He also requested reinforced testing rooms.”
“And insisted on one private sound-proof laboratory.”
Lan Qiren frowned.
“…For dangerous experiments?”
Lan Xichen took a thoughtful sip of tea.
“Among other things.”
He considered for a moment.
“Wei Wuxian can be… enthusiastic.”
“About experiments?”
Lan Xichen was quiet for just a fraction too long.
“…Mn.”
Lan Qiren stared at the ceiling.
“So he is planning for catastrophe.”
“He is planning for Wei Wuxian.”
“…That is the same thing.”
*****
Across campus…
Wei Wuxian blinked at the official offer letter for almost a full minute.
Then he looked at Nie Huaisang.
“Huaisang.”
Nie Huaisang looked innocently over the top of his folding fan.
“Mm?”
“…Why am I employed?”
“…Why have they given me authority?”
“Oh.”
Nie Huaisang smiled.
“You impressed everyone.”
“I publicly dismantled two thousand years of cultivation theory, offended half the conference, and accidentally created a research institute.”
“Exactly.”
“I called three sect leaders intellectually stagnant.”
“You did.”
“One of them cried.”
Nie Huaisang considered. “Only a little.”
“I may have compared one of them to rotten durian fruit.”
Nie Huaisang thoughtfully tapped his fan.
“That was… perhaps a little harsh.”
“Most applauded!”
“They did.”
Wei Wuxian looked down at the contract again.
“‘Chief Innovation Consultant.’”
He frowned.
“That sounds alarmingly respectable.”
Nie Huaisang nodded solemnly.
“It is.”
“I don’t know if I like that.”
“I wouldn’t worry.”
Nie Huaisang’s smile became positively angelic.
“I’ve already heard several Lan elders refer to you as ‘that calamity.’”
Wei Wuxian brightened immediately.
“Oh.”
“Perfect.”
*****
The Institute occupied a newly built campus overlooking the sea beside the Cloud Recesses Coastal Resort.
Designed by the Lan Clan as a think tank for the future of cultivation, it blended timeless Lan elegance with cutting-edge innovation. White stone, soaring glass walls, and warm cedar rose seamlessly from the landscape, connected by tranquil pathways winding through bamboo groves, meditation gardens, reflecting pools, and koi ponds.
Beneath the stone pathways, hidden spiritual arrays quietly powered the entire campus, while ancient calligraphy sigils adorned sleek glass architecture. It was a place where centuries of cultivation tradition met tomorrow’s discoveries.
The campus housed:
Innovation Research Laboratories — Talisman engineering, spirit arrays, and experimental prototypes.
Spiritual Technology Center — Communication talismans, autonomous paper familiars, and cultivation technology.
Cultivation Medical Research Institute — Spiritual diagnostics, meridian research, and healing breakthroughs.
Night Hunt Simulation Complex — Combat training, barrier testing, and field technology development.
Grand Library and Hall of Resonance — Ancient knowledge, digital archives, music cultivation, and spiritual harmony research.
The entire campus carried the quiet confidence of a world-renowned research institute. Every detail reflected the Lan Clan’s devotion to scholarship, discipline, and beauty, while every laboratory quietly awaited the arrival of one particularly unconventional innovator.
At the entrance, carved into a single slab of luminous white jade, the Institute’s sign greeted every visitor:
Cloud Recesses Institute of Spiritual Innovation
“Advancing cultivation through research, integrity, and responsible experimentation.”
Wei Wuxian stopped reading.
“…Responsible???”
He looked around the mostly glass campus.
“…Have they met me?”
A familiar low rich voice answered behind him.
“That clause was added yesterday by Shūfù.”
Wei Wuxian turned.
“Lan Zhan!”
A smile bloomed across his face like dawn breaking over the horizon.
The sight of Lan Wangji struck him as always—mesmerizing.
Snow-white shirt stretched across broad shoulders and hugging a sculpted chest hidden beneath a perfectly tailored navy coat.
Forehead ribbon immaculate.
Hair bound without a single rebellious strand.
Golden piercing eyes.
As ethereally beautiful as ever.
Every line of him was elegant, composed, impossibly flawless.
Only one thing was different.
He smiled first.
It was small.
Barely there.
But it belonged entirely to Wei Wuxian.
Months ago, he would have considered that impossible of this ice-cool impeccable Lan.
Now, he knew better.
Wei Wuxian crossed the distance between them in seconds.
”Did Shūfù scold you already?” he asked teasingly. “Tell me all about it. Let this gege comfort you.”
“Mn.”
“So…”
He leaned in conspiratorially.
“Director Lan.”
Lan Wangji inclined his head.
“Chief Wei.”
Wei Wuxian laughed.
“Oh, I like the sound of that.”
“I know.”
Wei Wuxian placed a hand dramatically over his heart,
“Lan Zhan.”
“Mn.”
“You’ve become almost bold at flirting.”
“I was taught.”
“…By whom?”
Lan Wangji stepped close enough that only Wei Wuxian could hear his answer.
“My soulmate.”
Wei Wuxian froze.
“…”
“…”
“Oh.”
His face flushed pink.
“That was…”
He pointed accusingly.
“That was unfair.”
Lan Wangji tilted his head.
“Why?”
“Because I cannot argue when you use my own techniques against me.”
“Mn.”
“You sound proud.”
“I am.”
Before Wei Wuxian could recover, Lan Wangji stepped closer, one hand settling on his hip with brazen confidence. The same hands that had once been so careful, so restrained, now knew exactly how to make him lose his composure. Although his expression remained serenely composed, Lan Wangji’s hand starting to drift towards Wei Wuxian’s ample assets…
From somewhere behind a decorative bamboo grove came the unmistakable sound of someone’s throaty laugh.
Nie Huaisang emerged, fan already hiding most of his grin.
“Uhm, My apologies.”
“You’re not sorry!” Wei Wuxian said.
“No,” Nie Huaisang agreed cheerfully.
“I’m truly not.”
He looked between them.
“I simply wished to congratulate the Institute.”
Wei Wuxian narrowed his eyes.
“…Why are you smiling like that?”
“Oh…”
Nie Huaisang opened his fan.
“I may have strategically arranged for several journalists to tour the facility this afternoon for the ribbon cutting opening ceremony.”
“That is just prettier words for ‘planned my suffering.’”
“They’re very excited to interview the world’s foremost cultivation innovator.”
Wei Wuxian groaned.
“Huaisang…”
“Also,” Nie Huaisang continued, “they’re especially interested in meeting the famous Hanguang-Jun who publicly declared, ‘I am with him.’”
Wei Wuxian buried his face in his hands.
“I’m never escaping that speech!”
Lan Wangji’s quiet voice came beside him.
“No.”
Wei Wuxian peeked through his fingers.
“…You don’t sound sorry.”
“I am not.”
Wei Wuxian looked at him for a long moment.
Then laughed.
Brightly.
Freely.
The kind of laugh that made junior disciples smile without knowing why.
Lan Wangji watched him with unmistakable fondness.
Nie Huaisang slowly closed his fan.
Excellent, he thought.
They’re disgustingly happy.
As should be.
Far above them, Lan Xichen watched from the Institute’s second-floor balcony.
He saw Wei Wuxian laughing.
He saw Wangji looking at him with quiet warmth.
He saw the impossible ease and between them—the way two completely different souls resonated perfectly in sync.
For years, he had wished for one simple thing.
For his little brother to be happy.
The Institute had not yet officially opened.
Already, he considered every coin spent to have been entirely worthwhile.