Well, there's this flower, right here, ripe for the picking—
Jiang Wanyin is out minding his own business, hale and in high spirits with the sun on his back, the warm sea air crisp upon his damp, glistening skin. His thin robe, soaked, clings to his frame like a swooning damsel, hugging every curve and every muscle. There's actual swooning damsels too, Jiang Cheng only narrowly avoiding bumping into them as they 'accidentally' step into his path with their shopping, their laundry, even a young child or two. Jiang Cheng catches them reliably and sends each on their way with a flustered, wholesome smile. Men clap him on the shoulder as he passes, complimenting his form, teasing him for being off work already, inviting him to drink with them once the day is through.
He remembers a time like this in his life, and he keeps glancing over his shoulder as though expecting to find someone there to talk to. The only times the boyish giddiness slips from his face is when he finds no one there, but it doesn't take him long to recover with so many admirers to greet. Not that he's trying to live up his celebrity status, really. He only meant to take a short walk to dry off after his last dive to save a young child's puppy after it fell off the long pier and was swept out of reach.
Just when he's thinking about turning around and heading back to do another patrol for anyone in need of saving, he thinks he recognizes an unmistakably elegant back, posture proper in ways Lan Wangji can only dream. It makes him do a double take, and—
He steps closer before hazarding a guess, glimpsing that passport and its contents from over the man's shoulder.
ii
Well, there's this flower, right here, ripe for the picking—Jiang Wanyin is out minding his own business, hale and in high spirits with the sun on his back, the warm sea air crisp upon his damp, glistening skin. His thin robe, soaked, clings to his frame like a swooning damsel, hugging every curve and every muscle. There's actual swooning damsels too, Jiang Cheng only narrowly avoiding bumping into them as they 'accidentally' step into his path with their shopping, their laundry, even a young child or two. Jiang Cheng catches them reliably and sends each on their way with a flustered, wholesome smile. Men clap him on the shoulder as he passes, complimenting his form, teasing him for being off work already, inviting him to drink with them once the day is through.
He remembers a time like this in his life, and he keeps glancing over his shoulder as though expecting to find someone there to talk to. The only times the boyish giddiness slips from his face is when he finds no one there, but it doesn't take him long to recover with so many admirers to greet. Not that he's trying to live up his celebrity status, really. He only meant to take a short walk to dry off after his last dive to save a young child's puppy after it fell off the long pier and was swept out of reach.
Just when he's thinking about turning around and heading back to do another patrol for anyone in need of saving, he thinks he recognizes an unmistakably elegant back, posture proper in ways Lan Wangji can only dream. It makes him do a double take, and—
He steps closer before hazarding a guess, glimpsing that passport and its contents from over the man's shoulder.
"...Zewu-jun?"