The sun rose over the Cloud Recesses with a kind of smug brilliance, as though even the Heavens had conspired to mock the cultivators’ suffering. Dew glittered across the grass, birds sang their morning songs, and in the tents scattered across the meadow, chaos reigned.

Wei Wuxian was the first to emerge from his tent—half dressed, hair sticking up in all directions, and humming a tune that did not match the supposed solemnity of Gusu Lan.

“Good morning, Cloud Recesses! What a beautiful day for fun, friendship, and—” He stopped abruptly when he saw Lan Qiren standing nearby with arms folded, face thunderous. “—and, uh, silence. Definitely silence. The most beautiful kind of morning silence.”

“You were singing,” Lan Qiren barked.

“I was humming,” Wei Wuxian corrected, grinning innocently. “Not against the rules.”

Jiang Cheng stomped out of his own tent, looking like he had not slept a wink. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, and he was scowling hard enough to curdle milk.

“I didn’t sleep,” he announced bitterly. “Do you know why? Because someone—” He jabbed a finger toward Wei Wuxian. “—talks in his sleep. Loudly. About… rabbits.”

Wei Wuxian gasped. “Rabbits? Really? I was dreaming about bunnies?”

“You wouldn’t stop mumbling, ‘So soft, so fluffy, Lan Zhan look!’ over and over again.”

Lan Wangji, who was just emerging from his tent with immaculate composure, paused for the briefest fraction of a second. The tips of his ears flushed pink.

Wei Wuxian’s jaw dropped. Then he beamed, clasping his hands dramatically. “Lan Zhan! You infiltrated my dreams!”

Jiang Cheng groaned. “I’m going home.”

“You’re not going home,” Lan Qiren snapped, shoving a rolled-up schedule into Jiang Cheng’s hands. “Today’s activities begin immediately. Archery practice! Scavenger hunt! Obstacle course! All participants must be present.”

“I am a Sect Leader,” Jiang Cheng muttered under his breath. “I shouldn’t have to play camp games like a child.”

Wei Wuxian clapped him on the shoulder. “Exactly! That’s why it’s funny.”

The archery field had been prepared with a row of targets—simple painted circles on straw bales. Lan disciples stood by, bows in hand, demonstrating perfect form and solemn composure.

“Archery tests focus, discipline, and precision,” Lan Qiren lectured. “Qualities most of you lack.” His eyes darted directly to Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian gave him a cheerful thumbs-up.

The participants lined up. Jiang Cheng stepped forward first, stringing his bow with ease. His arrow hit dead center on the target. He smirked and turned slightly toward Wei Wuxian. “That’s how it’s done.”

“Show-off,” Wei Wuxian muttered. “Fine, my turn.”

He picked up his bow, knocked an arrow, and—with a flourish—let it fly. The arrow soared majestically into the air… and then veered hard left, striking one of the cameramen’s tripods with a loud clang. The camera tilted sideways, capturing a very unflattering angle of Lan Qiren’s horrified face.

“Oops,” Wei Wuxian said, scratching the back of his head. “At least I didn’t hit a person?”

“You almost did!” Jiang Cheng snapped. “You’re hopeless.”

Wei Wuxian handed the bow to Lan Wangji with a sheepish grin. “Lan Zhan, save our dignity.”

Lan Wangji did not answer. He simply raised the bow, loosed an arrow, and—without so much as blinking—split Jiang Cheng’s arrow clean in two.

The field went silent. Even the birds stopped singing.

“Of course,” Wei Wuxian whispered reverently. Then, louder: “Lan Zhan! You’re incredible! Did you see that? He split it in half! Like a hero in a romance tale! I think I’m swooning.”

Lan Wangji’s face remained perfectly neutral, but his ears betrayed him again with the faintest flush.

Jin Ling, determined not to be outdone, stepped forward with intense focus. His arrow landed slightly off-center, but still close enough to earn murmurs of approval. He straightened, looking smug.

Wei Wuxian immediately clapped his hands. “That’s my nephew! Look at you, already better than your grumpy uncle.”

Jiang Cheng’s head whipped toward him. “Excuse me?”

The scavenger hunt was next, and it was chaos from the very first clue.

“Teams will be divided into pairs,” Lan Qiren announced, “to search the grounds of Cloud Recesses for hidden tokens. Cooperation is mandatory.”

Wei Wuxian instantly latched onto Lan Wangji’s arm. “We’re partners, right? Right, Lan Zhan? Say yes. Say yes quickly before Jiang Cheng steals you.”

Lan Wangji, without hesitation: “Mn.”

Wei Wuxian practically glowed. “Perfect! Unstoppable team, right here.”

Jiang Cheng scowled. “Fine. Jin Ling, you’re with me.”

“What? Why can’t I—” Jin Ling began, but Jiang Cheng cut him off with a glare.

“No arguments.”

The disciples scattered across the grounds, hunting under rocks, in trees, and around the lotus ponds. Wei Wuxian, naturally, treated the whole thing like a picnic stroll.

“Lan Zhan, look! This tree is shaped like a bunny. Don’t you think so? Oh—what if the clue is hidden inside it? Should I climb it? I’m going to climb it.”

Lan Wangji watched as Wei Wuxian scrambled up the tree like a mischievous child, robes flapping. Moments later, a triumphant shout rang out.

“Found one! See? Genius!”

He waved a small wooden token before promptly slipping on a branch and tumbling halfway down. Lan Wangji caught him with practiced ease, setting him gently on his feet.

Wei Wuxian beamed up at him. “You really are my hero.”

Meanwhile, Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling were engaged in what could only be described as an escalating argument disguised as teamwork.

“You’re not even looking properly,” Jin Ling snapped. “You’re just glaring at the ground like it insulted you.”

“I am looking,” Jiang Cheng barked. “Unlike you, I know how to pay attention.”

“Oh yeah? Then why haven’t you found anything?”

“Because you keep distracting me with your whining!”

“I’m not whining!”

Their bickering grew so loud that several rabbits fled the area. By the time the whistle blew to end the hunt, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji had gathered three tokens, while Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling had exactly zero.

Wei Wuxian grinned ear to ear. “Team WangXian triumphs again!”

“Don’t call it that,” Jiang Cheng snarled.

“Too late,” Wei Wuxian sang, dancing in a circle with his tokens.

By the time they reached the obstacle course, everyone was sweaty, cranky, and—at least in Jiang Cheng’s case—ready to commit murder.

The course was a labyrinth of ropes, walls, and balance beams constructed with alarming speed by Lan disciples.

“This tests endurance, strength, and unity,” Lan Qiren declared. “You will not succeed without cooperation.”

Wei Wuxian surveyed the course with sparkling eyes. “This looks amazing. Like a playground for adults! Oh, I’m going to have so much fun.”

“You’re going to break your neck,” Jiang Cheng muttered.

The whistle blew.

Chaos erupted.

Wei Wuxian launched himself onto the rope net, climbing with reckless energy. “Lan Zhan, watch me! Look how fast I—” He slipped halfway up, legs flailing. “—never mind, don’t watch!”

Lan Wangji, already scaling the ropes with effortless grace, caught Wei Wuxian’s wrist and pulled him up without breaking stride.

Wei Wuxian dangled from his grip like a delighted cat. “Seriously, what would I do without you? Oh, right. Fall to my death.”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji replied, hauling him over the top.

Elsewhere, Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling were locked in another heated argument while attempting to cross the balance beam.

“You’re wobbling,” Jiang Cheng accused.

“I wouldn’t wobble if you stopped yelling at me!” Jin Ling snapped back.

Their shouting match ended with both of them tumbling into the shallow mud pit below. Wei Wuxian, watching from above, doubled over laughing.

“Uncle-nephew bonding at its finest!” he wheezed.

“Shut up!” they shouted in unison, dripping with mud.

By the time everyone crawled, climbed, and dragged themselves through the finish line, Lan disciples were recording footage of what looked less like a team-building exercise and more like a battlefield.

Wei Wuxian collapsed onto the grass, grinning. “Best. Day. Ever.”

Jiang Cheng stood nearby, covered in mud, glaring daggers. “I hate this. I hate all of this.”

Jin Ling shook mud out of his hair with a furious scowl. “This is beneath us.”

Lan Wangji, spotless as always, simply handed Wei Wuxian a flask of water.

Lan Qiren looked over the disaster before him—the mud, the shouting, the disciples laughing nervously behind cameras—and pinched the bridge of his nose.

And this was only day two.