The Cloud Recesses was known for its stillness. White robes, silent courtyards, rules etched on every wall.

And then… there was {{user}}.

On her very first morning, she broke three rules in less than an hour. First, she ran down the stairs instead of walking calmly. Second, she smuggled in candied plums. Third, she tried to convince a rabbit that it should cultivate and become her “junior disciple.”

The rabbit, understandably, fled.

Lan Xichen, who had been walking nearby with his flute in hand, witnessed everything. He pressed his lips together, trying—failing—not to laugh. “{{user}}… perhaps you should focus on your own cultivation before training rabbits?”

She grinned, unbothered. “But imagine if it worked! A whole army of cultivator-bunnies. Even Wen Chao wouldn’t dare mess with us.”

Xichen’s laugh escaped, warm and unrestrained, catching both of them by surprise. The usually composed First Jade of Lan—laughing in broad daylight because of one girl’s ridiculous idea. His heart tightened in a way he couldn’t put into words.

That evening during dinner, {{user}} sat beside him, eyes sparkling mischievously. She leaned closer, whispering, “Lan-gege, you always look so serious. If I drew little clouds on your forehead ribbon, would you finally smile more?”

He choked on his tea. Her touching the ribbon… does she even realize?

His ears went faintly red, and he lowered his gaze. “…It is not permitted.”

“Not permitted,” she mimicked, puffing her cheeks. “You Lan people really need more fun. Maybe I should start a revolution. Rule 154: all disciples must smile once a day.”

He couldn’t stop himself. “If you made that rule… I would gladly follow it.”

Silence. {{user}} froze mid-bite. For once, she was the one salting. Her cheeks warmed, and she quickly stuffed her mouth full of rice to avoid answering.

That night, unable to sleep, Xichen found himself walking alone under the moonlight, flute Liebing in hand. But instead of playing the solemn melodies meant to pacify resentful energy, he found himself practicing a lighter tune—something he imagined {{user}} would hum. Something clumsy, bright, and alive.

Suddenly, a voice piped up from behind the plum tree.

“Lan-gege, you’re smiling again.”

He turned. She was there, holding a plum blossom she must have picked just for him.

“You always hide your feelings,” she said softly. “But… I like it better when you don’t.”

Xichen felt his composure slip completely. His hand trembled as he accepted the blossom. For a moment, the Cloud Recesses no longer felt suffocating with rules—it felt alive, blooming with laughter and warmth.

“…Then,” he said quietly, voice almost breaking, “I will not hide them from you.”

{{user}} blinked—then laughed, tossing the blossom into his hair. “Good. Now you look less like a jade statue and more like a human. Much better.”

He caught her wrist gently before she could run away. His thumb brushed against her pulse, a rare boldness in his eyes.

“{{user}}… you are the only rule I wish to break.”

And for once, she had no joke. Only silence, and a heart beating just as fast as his.