Dreams. 

A vision…a time capsule of one’s past. 

Often times, they are a manifestation of one’s unconscious thoughts. The kind that the mind wishes to fulfill, scenarios that could or could not happen that are allowed to run their course. 

Other times, they’re memories --...

Others saw him as cold. 

An observation Second Young Master Lan had never refuted. 

The iciness he had accepted…

Be it appearance or within, his warmth could not be mustered. Untouchable, no different than the Bitter Frost, but unlike the Undead Immortal Cultivator, Song...

As the Young Masters waited for the Inn staff to speedily set up the bath at the far corner of the room, the grip on Young Master Wei’s wrist was firm. Lan Wangji wouldn’t let go, no matter how Wei Wuxian tried to pull away. It was as though the man who held him hostag...