Chapter Two

The paper rustled softly as Lan Xichen worked, wooden calligraphy brush* gliding in neat strokes across a document marked with blue seals. Lan Xichen became Zhangmen* at just eighteen years old. Despite having trained for it his entire life, he was still adjusting to his duties as Zhangmen. After this one year, he was able to complete most duties on his own.

Nearby, Meng Yao sat with perfect posture, stirring the inkstone* with slow, practiced motions. Despite his youth, his hands were steady, careful not to splash. The sleeves of his robes had been neatly pinned with silver fasteners to avoid stains. His brows furrowed ever so slightly—less in concentration, more in calculation.

Lan Xichen glanced at him briefly. "You do not have to continue, A'Yao. You've helped enough."

"I don't mind, Lan Zhangmen," Meng Yao replied politely, tone light, eyes bright. "I like being useful."

Lan Xichen paused his writing, brush hovering just above the page. That response. So quick, so practiced.

A beat passed before Meng Yao spoke again. "Lan Zhangmen," he said carefully. "May I attend the Cloud Recesses Lecture this year?"

Lan Xichen looked up.

Meng Yao continued, expression unreadable. "I know I'm young, but I study diligently. I already know Gusu Lan's three thousand rules. And I've memorized half of the Gusu Lan Disciplinary Rules."

Lan Xichen arched his brow. "Half?" he said with a slow smile.

Meng Yao's lips twitched. "The first half."

Lan Xichen looked at him thoughtfully. "And what would you do if someone broke the rules?"

A perfectly polite smile. "Report it, of course."

"Of course," Lan Xichen murmured, though he did wonder which kind of report involved a butter-knife in the dark.

The third night Meng Yao was brought to Cloud Recesses, one of the disciples teased him about his looks. Meng Yao, having memorized the rules by then, didn't say anything but slept with a butter-knife he took from the dining hall. One night, Lan Wangji found the butter-knife and almost punished Meng Yao for it. Later, did he realize that Meng Yao was telling the truth and had been paranoid because of his time in the brothel. Lan Xichen had privately spanked Meng Yao for it and the disciple was sentenced to copying the rules while doing a handstand. 

Lan Xichen studied the boy a moment longer. Still so young but clever, observant, and careful. Too careful.

Lan Xichen allowed a soft chuckle. "I see," he replied after a moment's consideration. "Well, while that might be an interesting experience for you, I'm not sure it's something we can accommodate right now. You're still quite young, and there are certain things you need to learn before moving on to more advanced studies."

He paused for a moment. "A'Yao," he said gently. "You are always welcome here. But you must understand. Attending lectures would mean being among many disciples of other Sects. This year, many Sect heirs would be attending. They will not all be kind."

Meng Yao bit his lip, knowing better than to argue further. But the longing in his eyes betrayed his true feelings. He wanted nothing more than to learn cultivation like a normal disciple. To learn in classrooms and learn alongside his others. It was a wish that would take some effort for Lan Zhangmen to grant.

"I know," Meng Yao said, looking down at the ink. "But I'd like to try. I want to learn. I want to... belong."

Lan Xichen's gaze narrowed. The words were plain, but the ache beneath them was familiar. Something old, quiet, and raw. Lan Xichen opened his mouth to reply. And then it hit.

A vision—sharp, blinding—like a memory, but not his. Meng Yao, older, in the golden clothes of Lanling and a vermilion mark between his eyes. He was standing alone outside a golden door, head bowed but titled just slightly. Listening. Waiting for someone, anyone, to invite him in.

And then another.

Fire. Screams. Meng Yao standing high above a burning palace, blood on his robes and face with a smile untouched. He stood in front of Wen Rouhan on the steps of Scorching Sun Palace. Lan Xichen's own hand—older—gripping Shuoyue* like a lifeline. 

The jade brush in his fingers trembled slightly and the image shattered.

He was back. Still seated. Meng Yao still watching him, patient and hopeful. Lan Xichen closed his eyes and exhaled. The boy in front of him was not the man in the vision. Not yet. 

The Meng Yao now was different. Not only his body but his temperament. Meng Yao in his visions was far more driven and cunning. He did whatever it took and was such a skilled actor that it fooled other him for more than two decades. Meng Yao now was eager and intelligent, although perhaps a bit paranoid.

Meng Yao in his visions was almost grown and fully a man. Meng Yao now was still a youthful boy and not even completely a man. Dark brown doe eyes with distinct pupils, androgynous face, fair, soft skin, dark brown hair with curtain bangs that frame his face, long eyelashes, and pink lips. If the Meng Yao in his visions was clean, ingenious, and attractive, the Meng Yao in front of him was clean, ingenious, and oh-so appealing.

Lan Xichen squinted, licking his lips. His groin area was getting hotter by the second. He smiled kindly at Meng Yao before setting his brush down. "Come here, Meng Yao," he said, gesturing to his lap.

Meng Yao hesitated for just a moment before walking over. He faced Lan Xichen and put his hands on the Sect Leader's shoulder.

Gingerly, as if handling a wary kitten, Lan Xichen softly and gently put him on the desk. Lan Xichen smiled when Meng Yao laid down the rest of the way obediently. Meng Yao swallowed hard, his heart racing in his chest. He couldn't deny the dark excitement that was coursing through him.

To Lan Xichen, Meng Yao looked like a doll with porcelain skin and doe eyes. His head turned to the left, cheeks blushing faintly and slender, pale neck made available to him. One hand over his stomach, the other at his side.

Lan Xichen tied him up with a ribbon of Spiritual Energy, securing him in place. It wasn't tight enough to hurt but it left him unable to move. The ribbon allowed Meng Yao to move his arms but they kept them nearer to his head, not able to move lower than his chest. His legs were spread open and kept in place. He could move his hips but that was about it.

Slowly, he opened up most of Meng Yao's robes. He watched as Meng Yao's blush crept to his ears and eyes grow with arousal, and he couldn't help but lean down to flick one of the smaller boy's nipples with his tongue. Meng Yao's chest and groin area were left available to him.

Lan Xichen's mouth watered a bit. He swallowed and said, just a bit hoarsely, "I'll start now A'Yao".

Lan Xichen began, picking up a spare calligraphy brush. It was made of jade and engraved with swirls. He dipped it into his tea cup and, with practiced ease, he began to trace lines across Meng Yao's chest, teasing his sensitive skin. Despite himself, Meng Yao found himself arching a little into the touch, unable to resist the strange pull it had on him. Lan Xichen noticed, causing heat to rise up into his face. His eyes laid on Meng Yao's nipples. He moved the brush over them, gently rubbing circles over them.

As Lan Zhongmen began to tease his nipples and stomach, Meng Yao found himself growing aroused against his will. He moaned a bit between his teeth. The brush paused, just slightly but then moved lower.

As he traced more and more lines, Lan Xichen proceeded to trail the brush over Meng Yao's exposed skin, tracing the lines of his ribs, the curve of his stomach, and the sensitive flesh of his inner thighs.

"Um." Meng Yao arched his back involuntarily, unable to contain the wave of pleasure that washed over him. His eyes misted over a bit when he noticed how wet he was getting.

Lan Xichen moved back up to Meng Yao's manhood, he traced the veins of the slowly hardened shaft. Pre-cum leaking from his manhood. Without allowing Meng Yao release, Lan Xichen moved back down to Meng Yao's clit. He rubbed circles into his clit.

Meng Yao let out a moan and arched his body a bit. His clit twitching as semi-transparent, milky liquid flowed a bit out of his pussy. Lan Xichen blushed when he noticed that Meng Yao already orgasmed.

Lan Xichen always watched with keen interest as to how Meng Yao's body responded to his touch. From the boy's cheeks flush and the beads of sweat that had formed on his brow to the tremble of his body and arching of his hips.

He continued to tease each of Meng Yao's erogenous zones for several minutes, making him cum two more times. After a while, Lan Xichen decided it was time to move on. He dipped the calligraphy brush into the tea again before moving it up and down his labia, coating it in Meng Yao's fluids. Once it was coated enough, he carefully inserted the calligraphy brush into Meng Yao's pussy, gently stroking the walls as he went deeper.

Meng Yao arched his back into the touch, a low moan escaping his lips. This was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. It felt both pleasurable and prickly, the brushes bristles gently tickling his insides. His eyes were opened and staring straight ahead with small tears at the ends. He covered his mouth with his hand and gripped the table edge with his other hand.

Lan Xichen frowned and stopped pushing the brush inside. Arching his back caused his walls to constrict. As an intersex person, Meng Yao's vagina was already smaller than the average woman's. Constricting it would make it more difficult. He placed his right hand on Meng Yao's inner thighs and softly pushed, causing him to open up wider.

He returned to pushing the calligraphy brush into Meng Yao's tight entrance. Once it wouldn't go anymore, he sat up and leaned over Meng Yao's body. Meng Yao, still dazed from orgasming, didn't notice until Lan Xichen started sucking his nipples. Meng Yao shook and moaned again, louder.

Lan Xichen blindly took another brush, a slightly bigger one made of wood, on the hanger nearby and started teasing Meng Yao's labia with a dry brush this time. Meng Yao moaned and arched into him again. This time, without waiting for the brush to get wet enough, Lan Xichen pushed the brush into Meng Yao's entrance.

"Nngh!" Meng Yao couldn't stop the sounds he was making. Tears fell from his eyes and fell down his face. Lan Xichen continued to suck his nipples and with his other hand remove Meng Yao's hand from his mouth. Their fingers intertwined together like tangled vines. Despite the initial discomfort, Meng Yao couldn't help but moan as Lan Xichen continued to stimulate his sensitive areas while slowly stretching him open.

"Lan Zhangmen," Meng Yao whimpered, his voice hoarse from crying out so much. He was overwhelmed by the mix of pleasure and pain coursing through his body, but he couldn't bring himself to ask Lan Xichen to stop. Not when it felt so good…

Lan Xichen let go of Meng Yao's swollen nipple and leaned forward more. He captured Meng Yao's lips with his own. The two tongues intertwined in a passionate haze. Meng Yao arches his back again, lighter this time, and orgasms once again. 

Lan Xichen parts. Meng Yao's lips are swollen from the sucking, his eyes wet with more tears, and his breath was coming out in rags. Lan Xichen slowly descended from Meng Yao's chest and stomach, sucking and kissing all the way. He sits back down and lifted Meng Yao's hips to his lips, holding each thigh with his hands. 

As Lan Xichen continued his ministrations, he couldn't help but feel a rush of power surge through him. It was clear that the younger man was struggling against the onslaught of pleasure that Lan Xichen was causing him. Moaning softly with brushes in his pussy and Lan Xichen's tongue on his clit.

With each flick of his tongue against Meng Yao's clit, Lan Xichen felt another wave of control wash over him. He smiled. "A'Yao, you're so sweet," he teased. Meng Yao let out a soft moan, blushing madly. His hips bucked involuntarily against the other boy's touch, and Lan Xichen smiled again. He could feel Meng Yao's wetness coating his chin as he continued to tease the younger man's sensitive flesh.

Just as Meng Yao was about to climax again, there was a knock on the door. The knock at the door startled both Lan Xichen and Meng Yao. Lan Xichen's heart quickened just slightly, quickly withdrawing the Spiritual Ribbon keeping Meng Yao from moving and redressing the boy.

Meng Yao, for his credit, heard the knock as well and pulled his robes together. He hurriedly smoothed out his robe as Lan Xichen wiped his chin and lips, toss out the tea, and poured himself another hot cup. However, Lan Xichen didn't remove the three calligraphy brushes still lodged inside Meng Yao's pussy.

"Come in," Lan Xichen said, gingerly. Too late, he realized that he left the brushes inside Meng Yao. Darkly, he internally grew aroused at the thought of the younger boy's discomfort.

A beautiful teen with fair skin, light eyes, long eyelashes, and long black hair walked in. He was dressed in the characteristic white robes and forehead ribbon of the Gusu Lan Clan. His face stoic and posture upright, face similar to Lan Xichen but his lips were together in a straight line. Lan Xichen's face bloomed at the sight of his younger brother, the Second Master Lan: Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji's eyes softened at the sight of his older brother and Sect Leader. He lifted his hands and bowed. "Xiongzhang*," he greeted.

Meng Yao swiftly stood and bowed, brushes pickling him as his walls clenched. "Second Master Lan," his voice was low and soft.

Lan Wangji glanced over at him. His eyes lowered as he took in Meng Yao's posture. He nodded in greeting. "Meng Yao."

Lan Xichen gestured to the seat in front of him. "Wangji, have a seat. Please."

Lan Wangji nodded in agreement and sat down. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed three of his older brother's calligraphy brushes missing. Lan Xichen poured his brother a cup of tea.

As Meng Yao sat down next to the desk, he couldn't help but bite his lips to stifle a moan. Every time he moved, the bristles pricked and tickled him from the inside, sending waves of pleasure through his body. He tried his best to concentrate on grinding the ink, but it was proving to be quite a challenge.

Lan Wangji was many things. Outwardly taciturn, inwardly passionate. A skilled swordsman and even more notable musician. As skilled as he was in archery, was very perceptive. He noticed Meng Yao's moan, his flushed cheeks, and watery eyes. Even when he didn't react, the connection in his brain was quicker than one turn of the ink stone.

Even after noticing Meng Yao's plight, he decided to stay for as long as he needed to. Sect matters more than the younger boy was in discomfort. And the discussion he was having with Xiongzhang was arguably more important.

As Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji chatted, Meng Yao could feel the bristles prick and tickle him from the inside with every movement. He bit his lips and tried not to moan, but the sensation was too much to bear. Pouring more tea, standing up to get more paper, sitting down–each action sent a new wave of pleasure through his body.

Meng Yao felt a bead of sweat trickle down his neck to his back. His heart raced, and he could feel himself growing hard again beneath the table. He glanced over at Lan Xichen, hoping for some relief, but the older boy was too engrossed in the discussion to notice.

Desperately, Meng Yao tried to focus on his task. He ground the ink with renewed vigor, hoping that the distraction would help him forget about the brushes inside him. But it was no use. Every muscle that moved, they brushed against something sensitive, sending another wave of pleasure coursing through his body.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Lan Xichen stood up. "Wangji," he said with a smile, "I'll look into what we discussed and let you know of changes that need to be done before the end of the day."

Lan Wangji nodded in agreement. "Very well," he said. He bowed to his brother again and left the building, closing the door and warding it in the process.

Meng Yao was now visibly shaking slightly. His face no longer rosy but pale and tears threatened to spill over. He couldn't even get up to salute Lan Wangji leaving.

Not wasting any time, Lan Xichen picks up Meng Yao and carries him to his bed. He laid him down with his knees dangling over the edge. Gently, he removed Meng Yao's clothes. The younger boy moaned, the brushes in him still pleasuring him. Lan Xichen propped Meng Yao's legs up and leaned in between them. Lan Xichen's hands moved slowly, carefully removing the three brushes from Meng Yao's entrance.

Meng Yao groaned and arched his back, clutching the bed sheets tightly. After being inside for so long, his walls clutched the brushes tightly. Lan Xichen sighed in frustration. The last brush was being clenched onto too tightly. 

"A'Yao, you need to relax for me," he instructed softly. 

Meng Yao nodded but every tug caused the bristles to brush against him and he clenched again. He started to cry softly, "I can't."

Lan Xichen looked up. He let go of the brush and leaned into Meng Yao, he gripped Meng Yao's face with both hands and kissed him. He kissed the younger boy hard and passionately. Meng Yao reached up and wrapped his arms around Lan Xichen's neck.

After a moment, Lan Xichen pulled away. The two looked into each other's eyes for a moment. Lan Xichen with arousal and want and the other with pleading and tears.

He suddenly moved down and started sucking Meng Yao's nipples, hands on his thighs. Meng Yao's hands went back to gripping the bed sheets. Lan Xichen sucked each nipple before going down more and sucking and tickling his chest and stomach. When he reached Meng Yao's most intimate area, he started sucking his clit and fucking his entrance with his long fingers.

Meng Yao moaned and attempted to stay still. He was aware Lan Zhangmen was only trying to loosen him up enough to remove the largest calligraphy brush.

When Meng Yao came, Lan Xichen wasted no time. He wrapped his fingers around the brush and pulled it out in one swift, twisting motion. Meng Yao cried as the brush was pulled out, his hips bucked and his back arched. He came again violently but this time without any pleasure. The relief was immense, but so was the shame as he realized he had come to pain. He looked up at his master and felt himself grow red with embarrassment.

As Lan Xichen removed his own clothes, revealing his own hardness, Meng Yao's eyes went wide with surprise. He'd never seen his master like this before. But before he could process anything else, Lan Xichen stepped into the bed and pulled Meng Yao onto his lap.

He gingerly guided his entrance onto his cock. Meng Yao let out a moan despite himself, feeling the pain of stretched muscles mixed with the intense pleasure. He tried to push away from the sensation, but it only seemed to make things worse. Lan Xichen fucked him slowly at first, then faster and harder until Meng Yao was crying out in both pain and pleasure.

By the time Lan Xichen orgasmed inside him, Meng Yao was back on the bed. His eyes were bloodshot from crying as he was fucked and his lips lip and pucked. There were multiple bruises and hickies from the multiple bites and kisses Lan Zhangmen gave him. Lan Xichen sighed and laid down next to him. He held Meng Yao gently and kissed his hair. 

"I'll speak with the instructors," he said after a moment. "You can attend the lectures this year. I can't promise you it'll be easy. The other students have better cultivation and are much older than you." 

Meng Yao's shoulders relaxed minutely, like a pulled string finally released. "Thank you, Lan Zhangmen," voice hoarse. Meng Yao licked his lips. "I promise you, I won't disappoint you."

Lan Xichen hummed, then jokingly added, "But you must promise not to outshine all the older students too quickly."

A flicker of a grin. "I can't promise that."

Notes

*Calligraphy Brush = Also called an ink brush, it was "used as a writing tool in Chinese calligraphy". Brushes differ greatly in terms of size, texture, material, and cost.

*Zhangmen = Sect Leader | The Five Great Sects are ruled by their respective Clans but they aren't entirely made up of a single Clan as they still take in outsiders as outer disciples to train.

*Inkstone = "An inkstone is traditional Chinese stationery. It is a stone mortar for the grinding and containment of ink. In addition to stone, inkstones are also manufactured from clay, bronze, iron, and porcelain." Lan Xichen's is made out of stone but he might also have one made out of porcelain.

*Shuoyue = New Moon | Lan Xichen's Spirit Sword

*Xiongzhang = Older Brother (very formal version)