#peizhi

[jianghushenanigans]

That feeling when the only person who you have ever truly loved, surnamed Lan, pulls a blade on you

[randomingoftherandomness]

Hello! If it's alright, I would like to put in a request for a fic > Zhang Ping x Lan Jue. The prompt is they had a big fight and Zhang Ping went home looking like a kicked puppy. Lan Jue after a few days decided to coax and apologize to Zhang Ping because he realized they might break-up the longer their fight goes. The rest is up to you!

Thank you so much and I hope you have a good day!

"Stubborn!"

"Mm."

"A hotheaded fool..."

"Of course, Daren."

"Incorrigible--"

"Would these be enough or should I empty out the stores again?" Xu Dong flourishes his hand. Peizhi snaps his mouth shut and flicks his sleeves back.

There are five baskets of produce, two bolts of fabric suitable for Zhang Ping and someone in his station, three jars of fine southern wine, a new set of ivory-handled writing brushes, two boxes of rare books from Lan Jue's own personal collection, and perhaps most importantly, a custom made set of cooking knives.

Frowning, he purses his lips. "Go to the chestnut seller and buy a pack of freshly roasted ones."

Peizhi thinks he sees Xu Dong's left eye twitch at his order, even as he bows and leaves to carry out his errand. "A donkey," He mutters, pouring out a fresh cup of tea. "I'm in love with an absolute donkey."

Zhang Ping is living in better conditions these days, which, for Lan Jue is still not as good as having him actually stay in Lan Manor. It isn't as if he hasn't offered him a place, if anything he had to practically tie him down just to get him to stay during those nights their discussions and meandering thoughts take a deeper, more physical touch.

Of course, when he complains about this, Mowen merely laughs at him and his woes.

"You made your bed," Mowen had managed between bouts of roaring laughter. "You can lay in it too."

This is to say, no one can understand why he is so truly determined to keep Zhang Ping by his side in the scant few months before he has to leave for Yiping County.

Peizhi tries not to think about how hurt Zhang Ping had looked when he rebutted something he said with a scoffed, "Of course you wouldn't know where your home is, you don't have one!"

That had been that. Zhang Ping had sucked in a breath, asking with a quiet voice and brown eyes that are sheened over with an emotion that was more than sadness, "Is that what you truly believe?"

And a good week has passed since he last saw Zhang Ping. Not a hair nor sight of his harried tail for one good week.

One whole week wasted being apart when they could just be...

The ache in his stomach returns with a twist, tugging in deep. Tamping down his annoyance at himself, he exhales slowly, gritting his teeth.

Looking up, he can spy the golden tops of the imperial palace glimmering in the noonday sun. Urgency burns bright in his bones. Wasting time, they're all just wasting time, and there is nothing Peizhi can do to stop the turning of the hours.

Helplessness bleeds through. Sinking its claws into his chest. He, Lan Jue, won't beg for anything from anyone but the thought that this ego could be the reason they could part without a second glance or another word, even as friends, even as strangers...

The ache in his core hollows him out and he gasps, gripping the corner of his table as a wave of lightheadedness washes over him.

Someone pushes him to a more relaxed position, and distantly Peizhi hears a familiar, gentle sigh next to his ear. "What have you been working yourself up on again?"

"Zhang Ping?"

His lover casts him a look from the corner of his eyes. Peizhi is so engrossed with drinking in the sight of him, the warmth of his body so close to him, the way he smells like the market and home all at once, that he completely misses the steaming bowl of noodles being placed in front of him.

"You haven't been eating. Xu Dong told me."

Someone is getting his pay docked next month.

"He's been telling tall tales," Peizhi grumbles, but not refusing the pair of chopsticks being pressed into his hand. Quickly, his other hand darts out to grab Zhang Ping by the wrist, refusing to let him go too far. "Don't..."

He snaps his mouth shut, turning his face away. But before he can let go, Zhang Ping turns his hand, sliding their palms together. "I'm not going anywhere, don't worry."

Peizhi lets him fuss, serving him tea until he took his first bite of the food Zhang Ping brought with him. "Lan-daren, I want you to listen to me," Zhang Ping says after a moment of silence. "Alright?"

"Zhang Ping..."

"I know you have me in your heart, that's why you've been restless these last few weeks," Zhang Ping starts with a small smile. "You keep begging me to stay, you've tried every means in your book to keep me by your side every time. I know that you have been anxious about my impending departure for Yiping County, but Daren, I am too."

Peizhi sets his chopstick down, reaching for Zhang Ping's hand. "If you knew, if you feel the same way, then why...?"

"Because I thought that if I could still keep this small distance, if I could just... Keep you at a distance, then maybe, when we have to part, it won't..."

"It won't?"

Zhang Ping leans in, knocking their brows together. "It won't hurt as bad as I know it will."

Peizhi surrenders, then. Leans in and wraps himself around Zhang Ping. Lets strong arms hold him tightly and clings on. "I won't tell you to stay, you know that."

"I do."

"I won't do anything that will impede your ambitions."

Zhang Ping's soft huff of amusement tickles at the curve of his jaw. "I know that."

"But until you have to leave, can you please just stay?" Peizhi whispers, tilting his head, brushing his lips to the bare skin of Zhang Ping's neck. "Please. For me, just do this for me."

Zhang Ping's quiet, "Mn" is everything encapsulated into a singular syllable. And with that, a knot in his heart seems to unravel. Burying himself tighter against Zhang Ping, Peizhi hides the joy he feels, pressing his smile onto a clothed shoulder.

Later, and later still, when all that covers their bare skins is the wash of silver moonlight and the warm night air, Peizhi luxuriates in the feeling of Zhang Ping's fingers carding through his hair.

"I'm sorry for what I said."

"Which part?" Zhang Ping teases, grunting a burst of laughter when Peizhi bites at his arm in retaliation.

Pulling him back to his side, Zhang Ping runs his clever fingers down the line of his spine.

"If you mean to be apologising for what you said the other day about me not having a home, then I should also apologise."

Puzzled, Peizhi shifts himself to look into Zhang Ping's warm and fond eyes, waiting for him to continue. "I was hurt, yes. But more than that, I was disappointed in myself."

"Disappointed?"

"Disappointed, yes." His beloved smiles wryly. Gentle fingertips brush over Peizhi's cheek, settling his touch on the side of his head. "Disappointed in me that I ever made you doubt that you are my home."

A wave of sudden affection cinches itself around his throat, leaving Peizhi breathless, struck dumb at the confession.

Zhang Ping shuffles closer, snuggling into Peizhi. "I know you haven't promised me anything, but in a few years, once the roots of the Empress Dowager's influence have been cleared out, I'll come back to you. And when I do, let's live together. In a house with two studies and a room for both our books. We can have a garden and a place where we can keep a few fish. At night, we can watch the moon together on the veranda. We can be together."

With a hand to Peizhi's chest, he whispers, "Alright?"

Quickly turning his face into the pillow, Peizhi breathes in deep over the prickle of emotion clogging his throat. Not that there was any doubt in the wet sniffles colouring the night silence between them, but Zhang Ping allows him this, moving in for gentle kisses to his temple.

"Have you been eating candies? Since when did your mouth become so sweet?" Peizhi grouses. Pulling Zhang Ping tightly to him, he nods, cheek to warm skin. "A gentleman never goes back on his promise. So you must remember this."

Zhang Ping's laughter in his ear is as good as the sweetest melodies plucked by the most talented musicians. Tangling their bodies together once more, Peizhi smiles when Zhang Ping says, "Of course. I'll need to come home to you after all."

[send me an ALoN prompt!]

[byronicbrit]

whittle wittle baby

[xinyuehui]

Mowen eyes red every time Peizhi does something that puts his own life in danger 🥺🥹🥲

[xiaosean]

a league of nobleman | when you see your husband’s boyfriend in court

[movielosophy]

A League of Nobleman | a date with the emperor

[chaoticmiraclezombie]

total homiesexual behaviour from these two. an excellent performance, if you will

lan jue: "why are you looking at me like that, bro? gonna make me think we're really gay or smth"

wang yan: "we are."

lan jue: "oh no, shulin! i can explain!"

shulin: "can you really?"

lan jue: "oh, fuck"

*in spain but the s is silent and the rest is amplified*

[circumference-pie]

Zhang Ping, about to be in mortal danger: Is Lan-daren here yet

Me: *aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa*

[moononmyfloor]

How to Coax Your Boyfriend BFF to Drink His Tea!

-A guide by Peizhi

(From A League of Nobleman)

.

Masterlist

[astarlightmonbebe]

i’m obsessed with peizhi’s and mowen’s whole dynamic

[jianghushenanigans]

Whumptober Day 28: Sacrifice

Peizhi looks awful. Truly awful. And Gu Qingzhang… he has a job to do. He can’t sacrifice everything he’s worked towards just for this.

Except…

He had approached Lan Jue because of who his father was. He had befriended Lan Jue as a means to an end. He had meant to stay with Lan Jue in order use him.

He had stayed with Peizhi because he was utterly entranced by him.

He can see himself in him. They’re of a similar age. They’re both orphans (or, in Gu Qingzhang’s case, as good as). They’re both determined to go through anything to get justice for their families.

Peizhi doesn’t know this about Shulin, of course, but he must have seen something, because for all Gu Qingzhang had tried to chase him, Peizhi had not tried hard to escape. Had pushed closer himself.

And all this, now, has led to Gu Qingzhang’s heart beating faster as he watches Peizhi pour poison into his own wine.

Gu Qingzhang has too much at stake to risk anything. He has to avenge the people who raised him. He has to have revenge on the Empress who left him to die.

And yet... and yet.

He swaps the wine with a deft hand. Tips it back without giving anything away. Slips away into the dark, feeling his insides burning but knowing, at least, that Peizhi will be alright.

Some sacrifices are worth it.

Peizhi looks awful. Truly awful. And Wang Yan… he has a job to do. He can’t sacrifice his good name, his family’s reputation just for this.

Except…

When he had met Lan Jue, he had been a nobody, selling calligraphy in the street, his own family’s reputation nothing but dust. Wang Yan hadn’t even noticed him, until he had been given no choice not to.

He can’t imagine his life without Peizhi in it, now.

He can see himself in him. They’re of a similar age. They both want their father’s to be able to look at them proudly. They’re both desperate to prove themselves in the political sphere.

Peizhi knows about the struggle Mowen has had, getting his father to approve of him. They had held each other close, one of them wishing his father cared, the other wishing his father was there. It made Wang Yan feel selfish, thinking about it afterwards, but somehow it had only drawn Peizhi closer.

And all this, now, has led to Wang Yan pausing to think as Peizhi begs him to hide evidence that he says is being used to frame him.

Wang Yan has too much at stake to risk anything. He has to prove his worth as the Minister for Justice to the Emperor. He has to prove it to his father.

And yet... and yet.

He nods, briskly. He swaps the evidence with a deft hand. Hides it without giving anything away. Slips back to the investigation, ignoring the potential political ramifications because he knows, at least, that Peizhi will be alright.

Some sacrifices are worth it.

*

Crossposted here on ao3

[randomingoftherandomness]

Hi! ALoN fic prompt: Zhang Ping x Lan Jue, post canon. Zhang Ping meets Lan Jue's child.

HNNGH NONNIE HOW DID YOU KNOW I WAS FLIRTING WITH THE IDEA OF WRITING LAN HUI

We have no canonical TV portrayals of Lan Hui and therefore, my personal fanon is that Lan Hui looks like Lan Jue as a child with just about the same level of determination.

(may write headcanons about this we shall see)

~*~*~*~

When Lan Hui finally crosses the threshold into the manor he once knew as home, he starts to pick out the differences between the here and now, and the way these walls used to sit in his memories.

The first is that it smells different.

Sure, it does still smell like the orchids that his father used to cultivate, but it's fainter. And the smell of his mother's perfume is nowhere here. Instead, Lan Hui can smell cooking.

Noodles. Dumplings. Roast. He doesn't remember his father ever being extravagant with his meals, so he doesn't know who this food is for.

But then again, it has been years since he has stepped foot in this manor. Things might have changed.

Perhaps he gained a stepmother? One who delights in cooking?

It wouldn't be out of the ordinary and certainly, Lan Hui knows that even with all the danger that comes with being married to him, many men and enterprising societal mamas would not hesitate to push their daughters and nieces to his father's side.

The second thing that strikes him is the sound of the house itself is different.

He had left home under the guise of darkness, sleep still crusting his eyes, with the mourning clothes on his back the only things he could bring with him. Yet, the most important thing he remembers about that night was how the air of his home clung in such a heavy way in his lungs.

It was an air coloured by the sounds of mourning.

The sound of the monk chanting sutras in the hall, the way the servants quietly bustled through the house preparing for the funeral. In his memories, it was the fluttering of the banners in the nighttime breeze, and the sound of his father's breath against his cheek as he tells him to be good and listen well to the uncle and aunt he was sending him to.

In those dreams he has had since then, it is the sound of the carriage wheels rumbling on the road as it takes him far, far away from everything and everyone he has ever known.

Now, the halls carry a sound of chatter and laughter.

The third, and perhaps most important change, is when he takes a turn with Uncle Xu Dong guiding him, he sees the man seated with his father.

Lan Hui is still too far away to hear what is being said between them, but there is a clear note of amusement trembling in the mid-morning sunlight.

There is a steaming bowl of noodles on the table that his father is taking bites from. It looks... delicious. The man has an apron wrapped around his thin waist, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and flour on his wrists. Clearly, this bowl was his doing.

Said man has a scholarly bearing and there's a sense that he is laughing about something that only he's seeing, but what arrests Lan Hui's attention is how his father is leaning against him, pale diaphanous robes spilling over the man's, face tilted up to his, eyes soft and fond.

The same sort of softness and fondness that Lan Hui only ever saw when his father was looking at his mother.

"Lan Hui?"

His father's deep voice startles him out of his observations. Coming to a stop, he bows, suddenly quite unable to speak. Emotions churn in his belly as he straightens himself.

Did you think of me? Did you get any of my letters? Have you taken care of yourself? Can I not leave again? Can I stay, please?

None of which he says.

Because before he can shape the words on his tongue, his father has swept him up in a hug. "My son..."

"My apologies for not sending word ahead of our earlier arrival, Daren," Uncle Xu Dong says from over his shoulder. "The Young Master was eager to press on."

Careful hands cup his face, and Lan Hui feels a small spark of warmth grow in his chest when he looks up to see that his father's cheeks are as wet as his own are.

Father's smile is everything. A homecoming. The way a warm room feels after a day in the cold. All the embraces he wished he had every time he felt alone or sad with those thousands of leagues that kept Lan Hui away from him.

It is hopeful, even when his father pulls away, hands running over his shoulders, marvelling about how he has grown.

"Come, Lan Hui, sit with us," He declares after telling Uncle Xu Dong to go get some rest. With one hand on his own, he guides Lan Hui back to where the scholar is gently smiling as he greets him with a nod.

"This is Zhang Ping," Father says, folding himself onto a seat pillow and letting the man pull a set for Lan Hui. "He's..."

They exchange a look with Zhang Ping ducking his head to hide a smile, quickly moving away to the side as two serving girls come with trays of snacks. Father quickly fills his plate, telling him how all these were made by the man net to him, while Zhang Ping works in tandem to pour him a cup of water.

They work like clockwork. As if this is a dance with secret steps that only they both know the movements to.

This leads him, perhaps with a little less tact than he should have in a situation like this, to ask, "Mr Zhang Ping, are you my new stepmother?"

Predictably, Father chokes mid-chew of his noodles, face going a ruddy red as Zhang Ping pats his back with one hand and pressing his cup of tea into his father's with the other.

"Lan Hui...!"

"It's not an incorrect assumption," Zhang Ping admits softly, cheeks tinged pink when he meets Lan Hui's eyes. Casting a quick glance at Father before pouring him another cup of tea and offering him a handkerchief.

Looking between Zhang Ping and Father, Lan Hui sees the careful way Zhang Ping switches out the empty cup for some water, the quiet thanks in Father's eyes when his coughing dies down to a rasp.

Lan Hui also spies the small smile that Father gives Zhang Ping, the moment that lingers between them when their hands brush over the cup.

Picking up the soft bean cake on his plate, he takes a bite. It's sweet without being overpowering. Lan Hui lets the taste linger on his tongue, waiting for Father and Zhang Ping to turn back to him again.

"Lan Hui, Zhang Ping is--"

"My new stepmother, I get that," Lan Hui says, smiling a little. Father gapes at his words, but Zhang Ping is tilting his head, looking a lot like a puppy he once had when it found something interesting.

Lan Hui takes another bite of his cake, gratified to know that his home life from here on out will be nothing less than interesting.

[byronicbrit]

obligatory mermay post :p

[sarah-yyy]

why is jing boran so pretty when he cries 🥺🥺

[xinyuehui]

Whatever is going on between them 😳

[returning-spring]

I've been watching league of nobleman, and my god. peizhi has so many boyfriends. he's only matched by zhang ping, who also has just as many boyfriends