Lan SiZhui seemed as though he was carefully choosing his words. He only answered after a long while of hesitation, “Okay. The forehead ribbon of the GusuLan Sect means to “regulate oneself”. Senior, you know this, right?”
Wei WuXian, “Yes. And?”
Lan SiZhui continued, “And the founder of the GusuLan Sect, Lan An, had said that one can only let go of all regulations when they are with the one they love and cherish. So, the message that has been passed down the generations is that, uh, our sect’s forehead ribbon is a special object that is very, very personal and sensitive. One cannot easily give another permission to touch it, one cannot take it off as they please, and one absolutely cannot tie it on someone else. It is prohibited. That is, unless, unless…”
He didn’t need to finish his sentence.
By the bonfire, the young, innocent faces blushed many shades of red. Even Lan SiZhui couldn’t continue speaking.
Wei WuXian felt almost half of the blood in his body rush to his head.
The forehead ribbon, the forehead ribbon, th-th-the…
The forehead ribbon was indeed quite significant!
He suddenly felt that he really needed some fresh air. He sprang up and darted outside, only managing to find his balance by holding onto the bark of a wilted tree. He exclaimed in silence, … Good Heavens! What in the world have I done?!
Back then, at Qishan, the Wen Sect held a grand Discussion Conference. The conference was to last for seven days. Each of the seven days’ entertainment had been planned to be different. One of those days involved an archery competition.
The rules of the competition were as follow. Any disciples younger than twenty were to enter the hunting grounds. Of the more than a thousand life-sized paper mannequin targets, only one hundred were possessed by fierce spirits. If one shot the wrong target, they were out at once. One could only stay in the competition of they continuously shot correct paper mannequins that held evil spirits in them. In the end, the disciples were ranked by who shot the most, who shot with highest accuracy, and so on.
In such an event, of course Wei WuXian would be participating as one of the YunmengJiang Sect’s contestants. Before the competition, since he had been listening to the sects’ debates for the entire morning, he was feeling unusually groggy. His spirits only lifted as he heaved the bow and arrows onto his back. Yawning as he walked toward the hunting grounds, he suddenly caught sight of a handsome boy with a fair face and a cold demeanor to the side of him. He wore a red round-collar robe with sleeves that had tight openings and a belt of nine golden rings. This was the uniform attire of all of the juniors who came to the Qishan Discussion Conference. On him, it looked exceptionally good. He had a dash of elegance, a few traces of vigour, but a whole lot of good looks. One couldn’t help but brighten up at the sight of such a boy.
The boy was in the middle of trying out his bow, carrying a bundle of arrows with white-feathered fletchings. Brushing past the bowstring, his slender fingers made the it sound as though it were a guqin string, strong yet beautiful.
To Wei WuXian, the boy felt a bit familiar. After he thought for a while, he finally remembered and greeted the boy with enthusiasm, “Hey! WangJi-xiong, it’s you!”
At the time, it had already been a year since Wei WuXian studied at Gusu and was sent back to Yunmeng. After he arrived at Yunmeng, he told the people there all about what he had seen in Gusu, especially things such as how although Lan WangJi’s face looked nice he was so stiff as to do this, so boring as to do that. Not long afterward, he had forgotten all about his days at Gusu and continued to fool around in the lakes and mountains. In the past, he had only seen Lan WangJi in the plain “mourning clothes” of the GusuLan Sect’s uniform, never in such a bright, eye-catching outfit. Along with that overly-pretty face of Lan WangJi’s, now that they met again, Wei WuXian’s eyes had momentarily been blinded by his looks, failing to immediately recognize him.
On the other hand, as soon as Lan WangJi finished testing his bow, he walked away at once. Awkwardly, Wei WuXian turned to Jiang Cheng, “He ignored me again. Huh.”
Jiang Cheng glanced at him with indifference, also deciding to ignore him. There were more than twenty entrances to the shooting range; each sect’s was different. As Lan WangJi walked toward the entrance of the GusuLan Sect, Wei WuXian sneaked over before he could. Lan WangJi shifted to the one side, and he shifted to the side as well; Lan WangJi moved to the other side, and he moved to the other side as well. In short, he simply refused to let Lan WangJi pass.
In the end, standing where he was, Lan WangJi raised his chin slightly. In a serious tone, he spoke, “Excuse me.”
Wei WuXian, “You’re finally gonna talk to me? Were you pretending that you didn’t know me or that you didn’t hear me?”
Not far away, the boys from other sects all stared at them. Some laughed, some exclaimed. Jiang Cheng clicked his tongue impatiently. With arrows on his back, he walked toward another entrance.
Lan WangJi raised his eyes coldly and repeated, “Excuse me.”
A faint smile by his lips, Wei WuXian raised his brows and turned to the side. The arch door of the entrance was rather narrow. Lan WangJi could only brush by him as he walked in. After he entered, Wei WuXian shouted from behind him, “Lan Zhan, your forehead ribbon is crooked.”
All disciples from prominent sects took great care to maintain their appearances, especially those from the GusuLan Sect. Hearing this, Lan WangJi reached to adjust it without a second thought. Yet, the forehead ribbon was clearly as proper as always. Turning around, he casted an annoyed look at Wei WuXian. The latter only laughed as he turned to the YunmengJiang Sect’s entrance.
After everyone had entered and the competition had officially began, one by one, disciples left due to accidentally shooting normal mannequins. With each shot, Wei WuXian brought one down. Although he was slow, he never missed once. The number of arrows in the quiver soon decreased by seventeen or eighteen. Just as he was thinking about what would happen if he shot with his other hand, suddenly, something drifted to his face.
Softer than even the touch of catkin blossoms carried by the wind, the object made Wei WuXian’s cheek itch. Turning around, he saw that Lan WangJi had somehow already walked near him. With his back facing Wei WuXian and front to a paper mannequin, he was in the process of drawing his bow.
The ends of his forehead ribbon danced in the breeze, gently brushing against Wei WuXian’s face.
He squinted, “WangJi-xiong!”
With his bow already in the shape of a full moon, Lan WangJi still responded after a short moment of hesitation, “What?”
Wei WuXian, “Your forehead ribbon is crooked.”
This time, Lan WangJi refused to believe him again. As he released his arrow, he replied without even turning around, “Ridiculous.”
Wei WuXian, “It’s true this time! It really is crooked. Just watch if you don’t believe me. Let me straighten it up for you.”
He proceeded as he spoke, grabbing the ribbon tail that kept on fluttering in front of his eyes. Alas, however, his hands were simply too unruly. In the past, he made a habit of pulling on the Yunmeng girls’ braids. Whenever he touched a strip-like object, he’d have the urge to tug it. Thus, without a second thought, he tugged it this time as well. However, since the forehead ribbon was already slightly askew, a bit loose, now that he pulled on it, it fell from Lan WangJi’s forehead at once.