Chapter Text
SECOND YEAR IN THE MODERN WORLD, SUZHOU
”No.”
”But they’re on sale! That’s, like, more than enough reason to buy them!”
Lan Zhan sighed. ”Wei Ying. I will cook for you.”
”But it’s not the same! What about when you’re teaching and I want to eat something easy and quick because my lovely husband is forcing his student to play it again from the start, but focus this time, and I’m dying of hunger? What then?”
”There are frozen, homemade meals in the freezer.”
”Do they come with fun little seasoning packages?”
”I can add them,” Lan Zhan said and unmercifully put the instant noodles back to the shelf, one by one. Their shopping cart looked like a miniature farmers' market. Tragically full of vegetables and fruits.
”You don’t love me,” Wei Ying whined miserably. ”My husband has grown tired of me. He wants me to wither away.”
Lan Zhan merely pushed the cart forward, stopping at the aisle with the spices. There, he very primly picked one bag of Sichuan pepper and placed it in the cart. A statement, if anything.
”Fine, maybe you love me a little,” Wei Ying admitted. ”Though your hate towards instant noodles is irrational. They were on sale!”
”We are financially stable,” the man replied.
And sure, it was true. Jiang Cheng paid an excessively high sum for the social media stuff Wei Ying did during the days, and since Lan Zhan had started giving private guqin lessons in their apartment, their standard of living in the modern world was on solid ground.
That didn’t mean a good sale wasn’t a good sale, though! Lan Zhan was just unreasonably intolerant when it came to the food they ate. The man could broaden his horizons any which way when it came to trying out new vegetables, but he drew the line at shrimp-flavored ramen.
Unfathomable.
”I’m not going to let you watch any more of those documents about health and nutrition,” Wei Ying declared.
”Mn. Wei Ying should reduce screen time as well.”
Wei Ying groaned. “Lan Zhan, that is so not the point!”
In Wei Ying’s humble opinion, Lan Zhan had adapted to modern world way too easily, once he got past the initial reaction of horrification and disgust. The first year had been a learning curve, with Lan Zhan getting progressively more tolerant of the more liberal culture around him.
Nowadays, Lan Zhan’s indignantly averted gaze from scantily dressed people had turned into something like weary acceptance and indifference. He didn’t like it, certainly, but he’d become desensitized.
Well, he did still glare if it was Wei Ying wearing little clothing in public. But that was because he had a possessive streak only proper for a man raised in ancient Chinese cultivation land! Back then you got your wife and you got your goat, and you better make sure nobody else even thinks about taking them away from you, because if you don’t, then you don’t have a wife and a goat anymore!
Wei Ying hadn’t really listened during history class in school, but he was pretty sure that’s how that went.
Anyway, it was probably easier to deal with the modern nonsense when he seemed to find many of the things the modern world could offer very useful in tormenting Wei Ying. Like, a century’s worth of scientific literature backing his ridiculous health rules.
”What do you think one bowl of instant noodles is going to do to me, anyway? Besides bring me happiness and joy in life,” Wei Ying asked.
Lan Zhan gave him a Look. This one was a special one with capital L, which the man had perfected after their last trip to the Cloud Recesses, where Wei Ying had drunk fifteen jars of Emperor’s Smile by burning the alcohol with his golden core.
The look meant something along the lines of ’I will make sure you are being kept healthy and safe even if I have to hear you whine about it’.
”Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said very seriously. “What is this about?”
Wei Ying stopped, then, escaping the gaze of those pale eyes by turning to look towards the shelf next to them. Seaweed snacks. So many types of them.
”Ah, what do you mean, Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying asked though he was already grimacing inside.
Whatever Lan Zhan was going to say to that was prevented from being spoken aloud, as just then something made a sound behind them, a product hitting the floor with a loud clank.
Wei Ying and Lan Zhan turned to look, and once they found the source of the noise, they immediately froze.
Down the aisle, next to the spices, a man was staring at them with his mouth agape, hand still grasping air where it had let go of the jar of ginger that had thankfully not crashed and splattered all over when it had slipped past long fingers.
Wei Ying had never seen Lan Xichen look so undignified. Nor so – normal. Short hair. Lan Xichen had short hair. There was a Lan Xichen in this world who looked like he was taken straight from a ‘business casual’ photo shoot, and seemed like he was ten seconds away from fainting.
Next to Wei Ying, Lan Zhan had stiffened into a complete statue.
Lan Xichen was the first one to get his mouth in working order. “You – I’m sorry, but you –“
Lan Zhan said nothing, and Wei Ying had no clue what to say either. So they just stared at Lan Xichen as he visibly pulled himself together, clearing his throat and picking up the fallen ginger and putting it into his shopping basket.
Then, a little more collected, the man gave them a polite smile, albeit shaky. “Perhaps we should sit down for a cup of coffee? I live close by.”
Lan Zhan was still not saying anything, so Wei Ying quickly nodded, almost manic. “Sure! Sure, sounds great!”
With a dazed nod, Lan Zhan agreed as well.
-
This world’s Lan Xichen lived in a penthouse, like a rich person. Wei Ying couldn’t be overly surprised about it.
Everything was very neat, all smooth surfaces and minimalist design. It looked like a home that wasn’t very lived-in. Wei Ying guessed that this Lan Xichen probably didn’t spend a lot of time home, and instead just used all of it at his evidently well-paying job.
“Please, do get comfortable,” Lan Xichen said when they stood awkwardly there by the door, unsure of how to proceed when the man himself hadn’t talked to them the whole way there.
He’d just walked before them, that polite smile frozen on his face, only sometimes turning to check if they were following. And maybe to verify that he’d seen right. That there was a man there who looked exactly like him, but hotter and younger. In Wei Ying’s humble opinion.
Wei Ying had taken Lan Zhan’s hand, but it didn’t seem like Lan Zhan was actually that disturbed about this. He’d only looked very thoughtful, eyes on the back of his other-dimension brother, something deeply pondering in his gaze.
“I need to make a quick phone call,” Lan Xichen stated, absentmindedly digging his coat’s pocket for a phone. “Make yourself at home – there’s tea in the cabinet, I will just –“
“Sure thing,” Wei Ying replied. Like any of this was normal.
He dragged Lan Zhan with him to the shiny new kitchen that looked like it had never once been used as Lan Xichen left the two of them – complete strangers – to do as they wished while he had to apparently talk to someone other than the person who looked exactly like him.
Wei Ying immediately started going through the cabinets, while Lan Zhan, almost on autopilot, went to boil some water.
“Do you think he’s calling his therapist?” Wei Ying asked. The situation was so unreal he could help but make light of it.
“No,” Lan Zhan said. He stared at the buttons of the electric kettle, though for what, Wei Ying didn’t know. The guy had learned how to use modern kitchen appliances ridiculously fast. He’d never even had a freak-out about them.
Oh, right. “Lan Zhan, are you okay?”
Lan Zhan blinked, pressing one of the buttons to turn the thing on. Then, he turned to nod at Wei Ying. “Mn.”
“...Really? It was a bit of a mindfuck when I saw my siblings in the cultivation world for the first time,” Wei Ying said. “I wouldn’t blame you for being a little weird about it.”
His husband merely shook his head, turning back to another cabinet. He pulled out three mugs, bland and white and shiny like he’d lived here for ages and knew where everything was.
“Wei Ying’s situation was different,” Lan Zhan merely stated.
And Wei Ying couldn’t really refute that. After all, Lan Zhan had seen his brother just a few months ago, healthy and happy in the serenity of the Cloud Recesses. It was unreal to see him here, for sure, but not in the way it had been for Wei Ying to see Shijie.
He figured this didn’t pull at Lan Zhan’s heartstrings in quite the same way, even if it did feel a little fantastical.
He cleared his throat. “Well. He didn’t immediately call you ‘Wangji’, so I think it’s safe to say there’s no second Lan Zhan here.”
Lan Zhan glanced at him. “Second Lan Zhan?”
“Yeah. I always wondered if there was a Lan Zhan here, but didn’t think so. Why would the universe lead me to you, if there was a perfectly good Lan Zhan here for the taking already?” Wei Ying found the packages of tea, finally, squinting at the labels. “White or green?”
“Here for the taking,” Lan Zhan repeated dryly.
”Vinegar wasn’t one of the options, husband.”
Lan Zhan huffed, but just then, Lan Xichen was back in the room with them. They turned to him in tandem.
”Ah, sorry about that. I – this situation is highly unusual, as I’m sure you understand.”
Wei Ying was just a little bit proud of Lan Zhan for nodding. ”It is.”
”I have not introduced myself,” Lan Xichen said, sounding a little surprised himself. ”Ah, my manners. Lan Xichen. I am truly sorry, this is unbecoming of me.”
”It’s all good,” Wei Ying said, flashing a bright smile. ”You don’t stumble into people who look exactly like you every day.”
Lan Xichen’s answering smile looked more genuine this time. ”Indeed. Please, do sit down. I will serve.”
So they did. Soon, the three of them were sitting around a table, Lan Zhan still having said nothing at all, and Wei Ying kind of restless with the whole thing. Why was the whole Lan family so low-key about everything?
Personally, even if the situation with Shijie had not been what it was, he still would have absolutely lost his mind over seeing them in the cultivation world. He would’ve screamed, and, like, shaken Lan Zhan by his lapels, asking him ’Are you seeing this? Are you seeing this, Lan Zhan?’
Lan Xichen just calmly poured them tea – white, Lan Zhan had nodded towards it – and looked only mildly disturbed behind the polite veneer. Lan Zhan was acting kind of strange.
He kept looking at Lan Xichen with an unreadable expression, but it wasn’t one of those uncomfortable ones, or even the one hiding surprise.
”I did not catch your names,” Lan Xichen said, then, putting the kettle down.
”Oh, right,” Wei Ying replied. ”I’m Wei Ying.”
”Lan Wangji, Lan Zhan.”
This made Lan Xichen’s eyes widen again. ”We do share a name, then, as well.”
”Mn.”
”I...I suppose you didn’t know about me,” Lan Xichen said then, almost unsure. ”I did not...I’m sorry. This is truly unbelievable. We clearly share relation, yet…”
”I did not know I had a brother here,” Lan Zhan said, and it was not a lie, technically. He’d probably guessed, but knowledge usually implied certainty.
”Color me surprised as well,” Wei Ying said, though the conversation neither invited nor needed his contribution. ”This is very funny. Lan Zhan, what do you think about his short hair? Doesn’t it suit him?”
Lan Zhan, very used to this, only nodded. Lan Xichen looked even more disturbed under the smile.
”Thank you, I suppose. I – ”
And then, again, the conversation was cut short, because there was a sound of the front door opening and closing, and then after a little while slow and controlled steps approached the room where they were having the wonderful tea conversation.
From the corner of his eyes, Wei Ying noted that Lan Zhan perked up just a little bit, eyes fixed on the doorway. A familiar face appeared, slight irritation apparent in the furrowed brows.
”What could possibly be so pressing as to warrant disturbing my – ” Lan Qiren started, then completely froze there, face going lax and maybe a little white.
Wei Ying couldn’t help the snort that escaped him, then. Oh, god, Lan Qiren was wearing a light blue old man sweater and slacks. He was an actual, rich-looking old man. He even had some gray hairs, though he was still something like fifty years old here.
The snort earned him an automatic glare, something familiar and comforting.
”Xichen, what is this?”
”I was hoping you would be able to answer this. Clearly, I am not my parents’ only child,” said Lan Xichen, and his smile was suddenly absolutely ruthless.
He was wearing the expression of a man who thought he’d been lied to his whole life, by their own uncle.
”This is impossible,” Lan Qiren said, absolutely shaken to the core. The man shook himself out of it almost just as fast, gathering the famous Lan control around him like a shield.
Lan Qiren turned to Lan Zhan, then, with a strict look. ”Your name?”
”Lan Wangji,” said Lan Zhan very politely. ”Lan Zhan.”
”Lan –? Who raised you?”
”My uncle,” Lan Zhan replied simply. Then, before Lan Qiren could continue the interrogation, he said: ”If I may ask – where are my parents?”
Oh. The tea felt hot on Wei Ying’s tongue, but the entire rest of his body had gone cold. Something twisted in the bottom of his stomach. Oh, Lan Zhan.
Lan Xichen’s lips were parted, something like sympathy flashing in his eyes, and Wei Ying wanted everyone to just stop for a moment. To take a breather. But Lan Qiren’s surprised pause was quickly over, the man straightening himself.
”If my brother is indeed your father, then I have to regrettably inform you he has passed,” Lan Qiren said, voice stilted.
Lan Zhan nodded. ”Mother –”
”As well,” Lan Xichen said. ”I’m sorry. She died when I was merely a child.”
”I see,” replied Lan Zhan, as his voice sounded strange to Wei Ying’s ears. There was a note off somewhere.
This left them all in a moment of absolute silence, almost awkward. Wei Ying wanted to reach out to Lan Zhan and – and do something, because clearly there had been some kind of hope there in him, and it was so quickly squashed.
How was this fair? Wei Ying had gotten to see Shijie, yet Lan Zhan…
”Thank you for the tea,” Lan Zhan said then as if he’d drunk even a drop of it, before standing up and pulling Wei Ying with him by the arm.
”Ah – but – you’re leaving?”
”Mn.” Lan Zhan started leading them towards the door, Wei Ying stumbling after with his mouth hanging.
”L-Lan Zhan! What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, tapping the other on the arm.
He did not get a response, and when he glanced back to the shocked faces of Lan Zhan’s alternate family, his stomach dropped further.
He put his weight really down, then, just after they’d walked out of the room and past the corner, hidden from the eyes of the others. Lan Zhan stopped, turning to him with a blank face.
“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying frowned at him. “What are you doing?”
“Leaving.”
Wei Ying looked at him, speechless. Then –
“Is this any way to treat your family?” he demanded.
Lan Zhan cast his eyes down. “I already have an uncle and a brother.”
Sometimes, Wei Ying found it frustrating how stubborn his husband could be in some of his stances. Then, sometimes, he got reminded just how deeply Lan Zhan felt about things, and how much certain events must’ve hurt him.
Lan Zhan was a man who could carry old wounds like nothing, just letting them ache and ache because he felt it was the only respectful thing to do.
Wei Ying remembered his own parents hardly at all. But Lan Zhan, whose love was measureless, still had a place inside himself the shape of his mother, and Wei Ying knew he missed her. Missed her enough to truly hurt when there was a hint of a chance to see her, and that chance died.
But Wei Ying also knew that this man deeply loved his uncle and brother as well, and was not always thinking straight in his disappointment.
Wei Ying cupped one perfect cheek into his palm, felt the smooth skin under his fingers. He looked at Lan Zhan with stern eyes. “But this uncle and this brother do not have a Lan Zhan.”
Lan Zhan closed his eyes, leaning on Wei Ying’s palm as he exhaled slowly.
Then, “Mn.”
“Let’s be nice, yeah?”
“Mn.”
Wei Ying slid his hand from the cheek, down the arm to Lan Zhan’s hand, where he grasped it into his own.
Then, he turned the corner back to the kitchen, where the two Lans were still frozen in shock, looking at where they’d disappeared a second ago with unblinking eyes.
“Haha, sorry about that!” Wei Ying said. “We’ll definitely drink another few cups and chat some more if you wanted to!”
“Mn,” Lan Zhan agreed.
Lan Xichen nodded once, then another time with more enthusiasm. “Yes, please do. I’d love to get to know you, ah, Lan Wangji.”
“Wangji,” Lan Zhan corrected.
There was a slight, uncertain smile on Lan Xichen’s face again. “Then, Xichen is fine as well.”
Lan Zhan nodded, though Wei Ying had never once heard him call his brother anything but ‘brother’. He was pretty sure he would never hear that name from Lan Zhan’s mouth.
So they sat down again, and Wei Ying kept his hold in Lan Zhan’s hand under the table even as they continued the conversation.
-
It was fun to notice that, in the end, each version of Lan Xichen held a similar amount of empathy and politeness, as well as absolute adoration towards his little brother. The more Lan Xichen talked to Lan Zhan, the more delighted he seemed to be.
“You play the guqin? That is wonderful!” Lan Xichen said, during their third cup of tea. “I play the flute, though certainly not well enough to teach it.”
“I am sure brother is skilled as well,” Lan Zhan replied, and his natural honesty seemed to cut straight into the soft center of Lan Xichen’s heart because, for a second, the man looked like he was going to cry.
Also, the ‘brother’ probably did something.
They clearly avoided mentioning their relative childhoods; Lan Zhan, because he didn’t seem to be keen on blowing these people’s mind about dimension traveling, and Lan Xichen, because he was fundamentally a highly empathetic individual sensitive to other people’s hurts, and clearly did not want to remind Lan Zhan about a childhood without parents Lan Xichen thought he hadn’t known.
So they talked about casual life stuff, like jobs – Lan Xichen was a very successful lawyer in the family firm, though he’d recently started thinking about starting a family. Lan Qiren’s eyes brightened a little at the mention, which made Wei Ying a bit gleeful.
They’d been thinking about adoption with Lan Zhan. There were a bunch of war orphans still in the cultivation world, and if Lan Qiren was into having grandchildren, that would make Wei Ying’s life that much easier.
Though like his cultivation world counterpart, this Lan Qiren liked to look at Wei Ying like a stain on the floor as well. There was a clear growing fondness towards Lan Zhan, though, in the way the old man regarded him. This was, of course, only good and fair.
He nodded approvingly every time Lan Zhan shared something about his life. Lan Zhan’s vegetarianism, sleeping habits, and distaste for the rush of the modern world earned him a slight smile, even. Lan Qiren had known Lan Zhan for all of an hour and still looked so very proud of him.
It was honestly kind of cute.
Though when Lan Qiren referred to Wei Ying as his ‘friend’ with a slight downward turn of his mouth, Lan Zhan calmly corrected him with: “He is my husband.”
“Yeah, we’re a package deal,” Wei Ying said with a wide smile, almost starting to laugh when Lan Qiren’s expression soured. “I’m expecting an invite to family dinners from now on.”
“Of course,” Lan Qiren said, though it was obvious this was said through gritted teeth.
“We’d love to have you,” Lan Xichen said, eyes twinkling in amusement.
The more they talked, the more Wei Ying could see Lan Zhan easing up as well. The underlying sadness in his gaze started fading as he found comfort from the steady nature of his family. These were different people, of course, with perhaps more relaxed attitudes from the cultivator ones, but their base nature was definitely the same.
But Wei Ying knew the strange mix of familiar and unfamiliar and knew from experience that it leaned on positive overall. It was good in a strange way. Like finding a shirt that fit well and looked nice on you, but was very different from your normal style.
Lan Zhan fit in with this family, but this family was not the one that had created him. This century did not declare him its own, and indeed, when Lan Zhan offered to pour the tea, his impeccable traditional serving style had even the old man looking surprised.
Lan Xichen, of course, praised him for it, which made Lan Zhan look silently pleased. Then the topic turned to hobbies, and Lan Xichen traumatized his brother by mentioning his love for romantic dramas.
“Oh, oh, I watched that too! It was the one where the lady got shouted at by his ex at the train station, and the love interest showed up to defend her, right?” Wei Ying asked, enthusiastic.
“Yes, indeed! It was quite an eventful show.” Lan Xichen’s answering smile was wide. Then, he noticed Lan Zhan staring blankly at his own tea. “Oh, Wangji, do you now care for dramas?”
“Don’t mind him, he’s repressed,” Wei Ying said, helpfully.
Lan Zhan gave him a look with a lowercase l this time. Wei Ying grinned at him. “Well, aren’t you?”
“Wei Ying’s standard for repression is quite low.”
Wei Ying turned back to Lan Xichen and said very seriously: “He can’t watch kissing scenes. He’ll rather leave the room than watch it.”
Lan Xichen blinked, though the man was definitely trying to hide his amusement. “Ah, I see. Well, we all do have our limits with these kinds of things.”
“He’s sometimes too embarrassed to watch a nature documentary where the animals –“
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said, though he only sounded exasperated and not truly irritated.
He then glanced at Lan Qiren, who looked like he wanted to drown himself in his teacup. Wei Ying snorted.
The conversation continued like that, with little hiccups here and there, but overall, Wei Ying could tell that the Lan family was really bonding in their own weird and muted way.
There was a huge elephant in the room the whole time, around which they danced with quite the skill. It would undoubtedly become a real problem at some point when the modern Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren would insist on finding out more about Lan Zhan.
How their parents managed to conceive him in secret, and why he was evidently given away. Messy things like that. They’d have to decide just how much it was wise to tell these people.
But in the meantime, Lan Zhan looked pretty pleased drinking tea with them, so that was something for their future selves to worry about.
Later, when they’d all exchanged phone numbers and Lan Xichen had made them promise to visit in a few days, Lan Zhan and Wei Ying left with their bag full of groceries.
It was around six, then, and the streets were still full of people, but they’d learned the calmest routes ages ago when they moved here the first time at the end of their first year. Lan Zhan’s mood was pensive again, so Wei Ying didn’t pester him and merely hummed as he pulled the man along by the hand.
-
The next morning, Wei Ying woke up to an empty bed. This wasn’t unusual at all – Lan Zhan’s natural rhythm was quite different from his, and most often his husband would let him sleep as long as he needed on the days when he didn’t have to work.
The door was left ajar, and the smell of spices wafted from the kitchen. Wei Ying couldn’t help but smile against the pillow as he stretched, his fondness for Lan Zhan almost overwhelming him.
With loose limbs, he dragged himself out of the sheets and threw on some pants. Lan Zhan wasn’t against him walking around unclothed nowadays when they were married and only shared the apartment with each other, but walking naked in front of Lan Zhan was guaranteed to end with Wei Ying spread out on the kitchen table.
Any other day that would’ve been an acceptable outcome, but right now Wei Ying was hungry.
“Good morning, lovely husband!” he greeted, stepping into the kitchen.
Lan Zhan had obviously just finished cooking, as there were two steaming bowls placed on the kitchen table, the man himself washing dishes at the sink. He turned to Wei Ying then, a slight upwards curve on his lips.
“Good morning,” Lan Zhan said. “Did Wei Ying sleep well?”
“In the arms of my Lan Zhan? Always.”
His heart felt painfully full as he sat down, peering at the bowl. “What do we have here?”
“Noodles,” Lan Zhan replied, and Wei Ying’s stomach dropped.
“Instant?”
“Mn.”
“When did you get them?”
“On my morning walk.” Lan Zhan put the rinsed pan away to dry and pulled the plug out to drain the sink before turning to Wei Ying. “I added shredded vegetables and chili.”
Wei Ying swallowed, unable to look at Lan Zhan. The food smelled so good. Perhaps looking at it was even worse than meeting his husband’s eyes.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said, then, much closer now. The man sat in the seat next to him, before the other bowl, much less red. “Do you not like it?”
“I do, Lan Zhan,” he replied quickly, though his voice was thick. “I love it.”
Lan Zhan stared at him, then, for a long while. In complete silence, as he was wont to. Wei Ying took his chopsticks, though he did not yet taste it.
“I see,” Lan Zhan said after a while.
Wei Ying turned to him.
“Wei Ying,” his husband started. “What I do for you, I do willingly.”
Ah, the vulnerability of having been perceived for what he was. Yet the look in those golden eyes was nothing but loving, open.
Wei Ying hid behind his hands, then, pressing his palms against his eyes and sighing. Lan Zhan did so much for him. All the time. His life had not been only perfect and easy since meeting Lan Zhan, of course not. But with him by his side, it was like any hardship could be dealt with.
He didn’t feel alone, anymore. He’d gotten so much from that Fated Meeting: self-acceptance, a new set of siblings, a golden core, a whole husband. A soulmate.
And still, Lan Zhan did so much for him. Made him food, always paid for everything, kissed him and complimented him, and loved him in the exact way that made Wei Ying feel like he might die from the overdose of happiness, and it was all entirely too much.
What had Lan Zhan gotten? The meeting yesterday seemed to have only underlined this. Lan Zhan got him, a complete mess of a man, as a husband. Lan Zhan got to travel to a world that most of the time made him uncomfortable.
Wei Ying got to see his sister, but Lan Zhan would never see his mother again.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said. He pried the hands from Wei Ying’s face gently. “Look at me.”
He did.
“Why do you think it is a bother?”
Ah, there was something in Wei Ying’s throat making it hard to speak. He pushed past the feeling.
“Isn’t it? Lan Zhan, I know that you love me and that doing things for the person you love is kind of expected, but…” he exhaled, shoulders slumping. “It doesn’t feel equal.”
“What of it is not equal?”
“Everything! I mean, you didn’t even get to – you didn’t –” Wei Ying swallowed the words.
Lan Zhan didn’t have to hear the rest of the sentence to immediately connect the dots. The frown on his face deepened, but not in an angry way. The man was quiet for a moment; this, Wei Ying knew, meant that he was gathering his words.
“When my mother died, I kept visiting her house,” Lan Zhan said, then. Quieter than normally. “At first, because I could not comprehend that she was gone. And later, to honor her memory.”
Lan Zhan held Wei Ying’s hands in his, softly stroking the back of them with his thumbs.
“That was then,” he said. “And this is now. I am at peace with her death.”
Wei Ying followed the motion of the moving fingers with his eyes, focusing on the feeling of it. “But you miss her.”
“Mn. She is gone all the same,” Lan Zhan stated.
“You were so disappointed yesterday. You almost left your brother and uncle without talking to them because of it.”
Lan Zhan looked a bit embarrassed at this. “Mn.”
“So, there. It’s unfair. That I get to have so much and then all you get is” – Wei Ying waved a hand over himself – “this.”
The sound of Lan Zhan’s huff was almost half-amused. “Who stopped me from leaving?”
“What’s that got to do with anything? You like your family, of course I couldn’t let you just walk off.”
Lan Zhan nodded, and his look this time was meaningful. “Of course.”
He sighed. “Lan Zhan.”
“I have many good things in my life,” the man stated then. “Many people who care about me. And who I care for.”
He pulled another one of Wei Ying’s hands up, placed it on his cheek, leaning against the warmth of it. Looked into Wei Ying’s eyes with his own with something like deep fondness.
“Do I need more, when I have Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan turned his head, placed a gentle kiss on the hand. “To love and cherish.”
There was a heat rising on Wei Ying’s face, but even worse than that was the choked-up feeling in his chest.
“Lan Zhan, aiyo, what do you think you’re doing, huh? You can’t say that,” he whined, though something in him was settling. He didn’t even pull his hand away.
Perhaps his own experiences were so fresh on his mind that he was projecting them onto his husband.
A Fated Meeting was supposed to leave people happier than they would’ve been otherwise. If Lan Zhan did not meet his mother here, then perhaps the universe deemed it was better to not go picking at a closed wound.
Wei Ying had not met his own parents in the cultivation world, either. It didn’t mean he didn’t miss them. It didn’t mean he’d rather lived without them. It just meant that the life he had now, even without them, was happy.
He heaved a sigh, uncertain still. ”Is it really fair, though?”
”Mn. Perhaps Wei Ying should have more good things,” Lan Zhan replied.
He couldn’t help the half-groan, half-laugh that escaped him. Wei Ying shook his head at his impossible, sappy man.
“I have all that I need,” Lan Zhan said then, and sounded like that was the final statement on the matter.
And who was he to argue that?
Wei Ying gave him half a smile. “I can cook for myself sometimes, too, you know. You don’t need to be so good husband all the time.”
“I want to.”
Lan Zhan gave him a kiss, then, soft and unhurried. Their first kiss of the morning – Wei Ying must’ve tasted awful, but still Lan Zhan did not pull away in haste. Because he loved Wei Ying and loved taking care of him.
When they parted, he let go of Wei Ying’s hands. Turned him by the chin towards the food.
“Eat.”
Wei Ying smiled, a full-on grin this time, and ate the food that Lan Zhan had cooked for him.
-