Night two in Cloud Recesses was supposed to be calm. That, at least, had been Lan Qiren’s faint hope as he sat stiff-backed on his chair by the campfire, sipping tea and glaring at the flames as though he could will them into obedience.

The first day had ended with burned rice and sobbing juniors. The second had brought mud, shouting, and Wei Wuxian nearly breaking his neck twice. He dared to believe—foolishly—that perhaps tonight, things would settle down.

He was wrong.

The campfire had been arranged neatly, a perfect circle of logs surrounding the flames. The disciples sat in orderly rows at first, but that order dissolved the moment Wei Wuxian bounded into the center with a stick he had somehow fashioned into a mock microphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” he cried dramatically, bowing low to his nonexistent audience. “And fellow cultivators who desperately need a little fun in their lives! Welcome to tonight’s special event: Campfire Confessions!”

“No,” Jiang Cheng said instantly.

“Yes,” Wei Wuxian countered. “We’re doing it. Everyone has to share a secret, a funny story, or—” He paused, raising his eyebrows mischievously. “—their most embarrassing moment.”

The juniors tittered nervously.

“This is not in the schedule,” Lan Qiren snapped.

“It builds trust, Uncle,” Wei Wuxian said smoothly. “Team-building, remember? You can’t spell ‘team’ without—uh, without me.”

“You cannot spell it with you either,” Lan Qiren retorted.

Wei Wuxian blinked. “Semantics. Moving on!”

He plopped down next to Lan Wangji, who sat as still as a marble statue. “Lan Zhan, will you play along?”

“Mn.”

Wei Wuxian clutched his heart dramatically. “See? My soulmate believes in me.”

“Please stop calling him that,” Jiang Cheng muttered, already rubbing his temples.

The first confession came from a trembling junior disciple.

“I… I once fell asleep during morning lectures,” the boy admitted.

Wei Wuxian clapped so hard the poor disciple nearly jumped into the fire. “Relatable! I used to fall asleep all the time. Isn’t that right, Lan Zhan?”

Lan Wangji gave him a slow, unimpressed look.

Wei Wuxian leaned in, whispering loudly, “Okay, maybe not all the time. Just… most of the time.”

The juniors giggled.

Jiang Cheng groaned.

Next came Jin Ling, who crossed his arms, chin lifted stubbornly. “Fine. My confession: I sometimes sneak snacks into sword practice.”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes sparkled. “Just like me! A man after my own heart.”

“You’re not allowed to say that,” Jin Ling snapped.

“But I already did.”

Jiang Cheng smacked his forehead.

Finally, all eyes turned expectantly to Lan Wangji.

He said nothing for a long moment, the crackling fire painting his face in warm tones. Then, quietly, he said, “…I once… played guqin for rabbits.”

The group blinked.

Wei Wuxian gasped. “Lan Zhan! That’s not embarrassing, that’s adorable! Wait—were they dancing? Tell me they were dancing.”

Lan Wangji’s silence stretched long enough that Wei Wuxian slapped both hands over his mouth.

“They were dancing,” he whispered reverently. “Oh my god. The rabbits were dancing.”

The juniors erupted into delighted laughter. Even Jin Ling cracked a smile.

Wei Wuxian threw his arms around Lan Wangji. “I knew it! You’re secretly the sweetest man alive.”

Lan Wangji’s ears turned red.

Jiang Cheng muttered, “I need stronger wine.”

Of course, once Wei Wuxian had tasted victory, there was no stopping him.

“My turn!” he announced, leaping to his feet. “My confession is that when I was about fifteen, I accidentally dyed all of Lotus Pier’s uniforms pink.”

Jin Ling’s head snapped around. “What?”

Wei Wuxian grinned sheepishly. “Yep. Slipped some petals into the wash, and—poof! Everyone looked like a walking lotus flower. Jiang Cheng was so mad.”

“I still have nightmares,” Jiang Cheng growled.

“Oh, come on. It was festive!”

“It was humiliating!”

“It was adorable,” Wei Wuxian corrected, flashing a grin.

The evening might have ended there—rowdy, but manageable—if not for the “late-night shenanigans.”

Sometime after the juniors had been herded off to their tents, Wei Wuxian got the bright idea to “improve morale” with a midnight snack raid.

“Lan Zhan,” he whispered conspiratorially, tugging at his sleeve. “Come on. Let’s sneak into the kitchens. I know they’ve got preserved plums stashed somewhere.”

Lan Wangji didn’t move. “…Against the rules.”

“That’s what makes it fun!” Wei Wuxian whispered, eyes gleaming.

To everyone’s shock, Lan Wangji actually followed him.

Jiang Cheng woke to rustling outside his tent. He poked his head out just in time to see the two silhouettes sneaking away.

“Oh no you don’t,” he muttered, pulling on his boots. “If they’re going to cause trouble, I’m stopping them.”

Which was how Jiang Cheng, against his better judgment, ended up crouched behind a kitchen wall watching Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji rummage through cupboards like mischievous raccoons.

“Look!” Wei Wuxian whispered triumphantly, holding up a jar. “Preserved plums! Jackpot!”

Lan Wangji gave the faintest nod of approval.

Wei Wuxian popped one into his mouth and sighed in bliss. “Lan Zhan, you have to try these.” He held one up to Lan Wangji’s lips.

Jiang Cheng nearly gagged.

Lan Wangji hesitated, then—without breaking eye contact—took the plum.

Wei Wuxian beamed. “See? Delicious. And romantic!”

“Romantic?” Jiang Cheng hissed, storming into the kitchen. “What in the name of the Heavens is going on here?”

Wei Wuxian yelped, nearly dropping the jar. “Jiang Cheng! You scared me!”

“You two are unbelievable,” Jiang Cheng snapped. “Sneaking around in the middle of the night like teenagers! What if the juniors saw you?”

“They’d think we were fun,” Wei Wuxian said innocently.

“They’d think you’re insane.”

Wei Wuxian popped another plum into his mouth. “Semantics again.”

Jiang Cheng lunged for the jar. Wei Wuxian darted back, laughing. The two wrestled noisily in the kitchen while Lan Wangji stood serenely to the side, chewing a plum with unshakable calm.

“Give it back!” Jiang Cheng snarled.

“Never!” Wei Wuxian shouted dramatically, clutching the jar to his chest. “This is about more than plums, Jiang Cheng. This is about freedom!”

“It’s about you being an idiot!”

Their scuffle knocked over a stack of bowls, sending them clattering to the ground with an earsplitting crash. Moments later, Lan Qiren stormed in, beard bristling, fury radiating from every pore.

“What,” he thundered, “is the meaning of this?”

Silence fell instantly. Wei Wuxian froze mid-dodge, Jiang Cheng still gripping his sleeve. Lan Wangji, the only one composed, calmly swallowed his plum.

“Confiscated,” Lan Qiren barked, snatching the jar. “All three of you—punishment tomorrow.”

Jiang Cheng opened his mouth to protest, then thought better of it. Wei Wuxian tried to sneak another plum from the jar and got smacked on the hand.

Lan Wangji, unbothered, simply inclined his head. “…Understood.”

Back at the tents, Wei Wuxian flopped onto his bedding, grinning despite the scolding.

“Worth it,” he whispered. “Totally worth it.”

Lan Wangji lay down beside him, expression calm. “Mn.”

Wei Wuxian turned his head, watching the fireflies dance just outside the tent flap. “Hey, Lan Zhan?”

“Mn.”

“Thanks for sneaking out with me. Even if we got caught. It was fun.”

Lan Wangji’s gaze softened almost imperceptibly. “…Always.”

Wei Wuxian’s smile grew until it lit up the entire tent.

Jiang Cheng, in the neighboring tent, buried his head under his blanket and screamed into his pillow.

This retreat was going to kill him.