«We'll Call It Wangxian»

"overdramatic much"

"Tie your hair up, and for the love of god change your clothes if you want to go out" Lan qiren said looking at wei ying's disheveled form. Sweatshirt covered in orange coloured paint, a pajama wrinkled into something which lan qiren assumes is absolute trash.

"Are we going outside to get drunk?" Wei Ying asked in an anticipating tone cleaning the brush with his already dirtied glove. Lan qiren slightly scoffed when he saw paint sticking on wei ying's hair.

"Change of plans" Lan qiren said sitting down on the armchair far away from wei ying.

"Continue whatever you were doing" wei yīng grinned and nodded grabbing his paintbrushes back.

"Who are you drawing this time?" Lan qiren asked wei ying who seemed to be having the time of his life. Wei Ying turned the canvas around and showed the old man who he was drawing. Earning a gasp from the old man wei ying laughed.

"I imagined how I'd look a thousand years back" Wei Ying said looking at the potrait which looked realistic to the older man. It was no joke that Wei Wuxian was a talented artist, but, to say that each and every single piece he makes leaves lan qiren gasping for air was something which proved how talented he was.

But, there was something wrong with the art which wei ying painted this time.

"There's blood everywhere" Lan qiren pointed out at the picture. Wei Ying nodded and took his good time to admire his masterpiece.

The man in the painting was pointing a flute of sort at a battlefield with a maniacial look on his face. It was dawn and the sunrise looked just as bloody as the boy who he was painting.

"I call him the yiling patriarch" Wei Ying proudly presented the portrait which was almost completed. Lan qiren nodded and continued to look at the painting with a pair of uncomfortable eyes, until he realised why the painting didn't seem like a good thing to him.

Lan qiren knew why the boy was names the yiling patriarch. Wei Wuxian was related to yiling. It was rather funny how he was christened the yiling patriarch a few years ago.

But, something didn't quite kick in about the painting yet.

"Where did you get the red paint?" Lan qiren snapped when he saw no red paint around wei ying, rather, there were paint bottles of pretty much every single color around him.

"Eh?" Wei Ying asked showing him the palatte with red paint on it.

"Don't play with me ,wei ying, there is no red paint here"

Lan qiren asked in an alarmingly loud voice. Wei Ying winced at the mans loud voice and grabbed the tube of red colour from his pocket.

"Don't scream" Wei Ying said showing him the tube of red paint. It was squeezed out which had meant that wei ying had actually used the paint.

Lan qiren sighed in relief and sat back down.

"Overdramatic much" wei ying murmured squeezing the white color paint tube.

"How did you think of such an art?" Lan qiren asked trying to make another conversation with wei ying who seemed to be quiet for some reason.

"You remember when someone pushed me down the stairs last year" Lan qiren stiffened a little before he nodded.

"You remember when wen qing said that I have to stop the chemo to be in bed rest for a few months when i broke my ribs and a few of my fingers"

Lan qiren once again nodded not understanding where wei ying was going.

"I watched a period drama with Lan Zhan and imagined myself as some crazy villain, but, a good man at the same time" wei ying said getting off his comfortable stool to sit next to lan qiren.