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#shan he ling edit
tbgkaru-woh · 1 year
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Word Of Honor shitposts 1/?
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yuziyou · 5 months
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WORD OF HONOR ⬪ 山河令 (2021)
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jiaoliqiao · 1 year
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Xiyuan ✖ Shakira – Whenever, Wherever
↳ @immortalwanderers Gift Exchange: for ybyqlo on twt
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sugarbabywenkexing · 1 year
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Word of Honor + Text Posts (20/?) - Hanwenzhou Edition
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megafaunatic · 7 months
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"this is not a metaphor for penetration" - zhou zishu, lying to himself
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swiftletinthecloud · 5 months
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@userdramas get to know me bingo: relationship | Yun Wei Shan x Gong Zi Yu
@asiandramanet​ creator bingo: layout  [inspiration] + [template by @marissources​]
The clouds in the sky are silent. Do you see me? The most gorgeous sunset become rain, become feather to stay with her.
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zazrichor · 2 years
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my contributions for the lovely @shlzine 🌼
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lamtram · 2 years
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说好的同生共死呢 ?
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nanasibrushes · 2 years
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Valley Master Wen and his wife 😊
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aceinthetrap · 7 months
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I'm telling you to let go because there is still someone else here.
Just another day in the life of Gong Ziyu's top-class, but long-suffering, bodyguard
My Journey To You (2023) ep. 11
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nyxelestia · 1 year
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A TikTok I now I can’t find the link to first made the point of how good this song is against the opening credits, I just put them together directly.
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be-bi-do-crime · 1 year
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野兽的人性; the humanity of beasts
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🌫️ 2k words, oneshot
☁️ gen, gu xiang & wen kexing
🌫️ takes place pre-canon; their first meeting. warnings for blood, minor gore, violence and injury!
link 🔗: archiveofourown.org/works/43777791
reblogs, kudos, and comments are very appreciated!
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THAT'S MY BABYGIRL, YOUR HONOR
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jiaoliqiao · 2 years
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Word of Honor 山河令 | Wen Kexing in Episode 35
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sugarbabywenkexing · 2 years
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Word of Honor + Text Posts (19/?)
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aowyn · 1 year
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to you, hope of joy for while
postcanon wenzhou, T, written for siji hua zine crossposted from ao3 here 🌸
Tomorrow it would be the first day of Qingming, and they would travel up the hillside to sweep the hidden graves and clear their stones of brush. A’Xiang and her silly husband. Xiao-Chengling and his wife.
As they walked, Wen Kexing stopped to pluck a pink blossoming azalea from a flowering bush and wove it into his hair. He turned to face Zhou Zishu, batting his eyelashes furiously like the men who acted women's roles in the comic dramas that were so popular these days. "I'm as beautiful as any maiden in town—won't the dashing Lord Zhou spare me a glance?"
"Maybe if you truly were a maiden instead of playing at one, he would," said Zhou Zishu.
Pink really did suit Lao Wen; his cheeks were bright with color. Zhou Zishu plucked another blossom and tucked it behind Wen Kexing’s ear. Wen Kexing smiled coyly and hid his mouth behind his fan. "Lord Zhou is so forward with his affections. This wife wonders if he offers such treasures to every pretty thing that crosses his path."
"So Lao Wen is my wife, now? No wonder he did not seem so maidenly."
Wen Kexing lowered his fan and stepped into Zhou Zishu's space. He caught Zhou Zishu’s hand and kissed it.
“A’Xu ah," he said, voice low and sweet like the dregs of pear blossom wine under a full spring moon. "Wife or maiden or no, I'm yours for as long as you'll have me."
“Keep me company as we walk, then, and we’ll see about what happens after.”
They went along the slope for a while before sitting down in a patch of grass. Bright petals stippled the hills like an artist’s brush with pinks and whites and creams.
“The flowers bloom every year whether there’s someone to look at them or no,” said Wen Kexing, hand warm over Zhou Zishu’s in the grass. “That sort of carefree life must be nice.”
Zhou Zishu watched the clouds swirl by, following invisible drifts and eddies. “Flowers don’t bloom to be looked at; they bloom to survive.”
“And yet they’re pleasing to the eye regardless. How absurd!”
"Isn't that what you thought of me when we first met? That I was a flower that cared not for my own loveliness? Lao Wen, are you calling me absurd?"
"You are the most absurd man I know, Zhou Zishu," said Wen Kexing. “And it’s not like the flowers want to die. You wanted to. It’s not the same.”
“Isn’t it?” Zhou Zishu said. He gestured at the flowers that painted the hills around them with color. “This year’s flowers die to make room for next year’s. With spring comes new life on the burial ground of the old. Neither the flowers nor I had a choice, in the end.”
Wen Kexing hummed, closing his eyes and leaning backwards to flop against the grass. “Can’t flowers just be flowers? I don’t care much for talk of death and life these days. What’s the cycle of rebirth to us, huh? We’ll enter Yanluo’s court on our own terms.”
Zhou Zishu lay down next to him. A cuckoo called out for its mate in a nearby tree. A fat black bee carried pollen from one bloom to the next. The clouds grew darker beyond the hills, promising rain.
Living things ate and drank and grew old and died. Was that really what the two of them were? Living things?
Wen Kexing raised an arm above his head to blot out the sun. The light between his fingers caught on the angles of his face like the bottom of a river seen through clear water. Fresh. Clean. The same, year after year.
“Lao Wen ah, I don’t want to live forever,” Zhou Zishu said quietly, after a moment. “No living thing should spend so long in springtime. I’d like autumn too.”
Wen Kexing did not say anything for a long while. Zhou Zishu waited. He could feel the thrum of Wen Kexing’s heartbeat in the pad of his thumb. Blood in his body. The count of his time.
Eventually, Wen Kexing rolled over in the grass until he was lying on top of Zhou Zishu. He plucked another flower from the patch of crushed foliage left in his wake and and tucked it behind Zhou Zishu’s ear to match the one behind own. Satisfied, he smiled at him until Zhou Zishu couldn’t help but smile too.
“You want to see my hair all stringy and grey? My face so wrinkly it’d put the old man under the moon to shame? My saggy, hairy ba—”
Zhou Zishu put both hands over Wen Kexing’s mouth to shut him up. “Enough, Lao Wen.”
Wen Kexing licked his palm. Zhou Zishu cuffed him on the ear. Wen Kexing kissed the tip of his nose and Zhou Zishu wound his arms around the back of of Wen Kexing’s head to pull his face into his neck. Wen Kexing’s eyelashes tickled. His breath warmed the underside of his jaw.
“I do,” Zhou Zishu murmured into the crown of Wen Kexing’s head, curling his hands into his hair. “I do. I want to grow old with you. I want to see your face when it’s wrinkly as a prune. I want to see evidence of the life we’ve lived together worn into the lines of our bodies.”
“We have plenty of scars to show for that,” muttered Wen Kexing darkly. “I’d prefer there were less of those, actually.”
“Scars aren’t things we choose,” said Zhou Zishu.
“Some of them are,” said Wen Kexing, trailing a finger down Zhou Zishu’s chest where the Nails used to be. “A’Xu, why do you still want to die?”
“I don’t. I want to live.”
He marveled at the brightness of the sky. Wen Kexing’s hair smelled sweet and sun-warmed. So much life all around them. “We're living beings, Lao Wen. Living beings don’t survive on ice and snowmelt. Let’s eat and drink and travel until we’re two hundred years old and so rickety that little Chengling’s great-great-grandchildren will mistake us for scarecrows when we stop by the Manor.”
“They’ll wheel us out into the flower fields and we’ll scare away the pests.”
“We’ll scare away any visitors too.”
Wen Kexing’s laughter rumbled his whole body. Zhou Zishu loved him so much.
“Alright,” Wen Kexing said, muffled, into the angled flesh where the softness of Zhou Zishu’s neck met the hardness of his collarbone. “Our lives have been paused for long enough. Let’s eat food worth eating, drink wine worth drinking. Then, at the end, we’ll hold hands as we descend into the Yellow Springs.”
Zhou Zishu grasped the sides of Wen Kexing’s face with both hands and kissed him on the mouth.
“Let’s grow old together, A’Xu,” said Wen Kexing after they parted.
Zhou Zishu brushed a stray petal out of Wen Kexing’s hair. “Yes, let’s.”
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