Courtship Rite

Gentians

Lan Wangji's weekday visits were so regular that Wei Ying figured he could set his clock by them, if he had a clock. Three bland and boring meals a day eaten in silence. Well, they used to be bland, but at least now he had chili oil although he did miss other spices. The no talking rule had come as an unexpected relief. Wei Ying would have started screaming if he'd been expected to keep up a conversation. The only other company had been Meng Yao who'd joined him for lunch once and then stopped by a few times more to ask Wei Ying to copy out those strange statements of his. Wei Ying hadn't minded. At least it had been something to do even if the topics were odd: why he's happy to be here, how impressed he is by the Lan values as evidenced by the three thousand – three fucking thousand! – rules. He was so bored he'd have written them even without the bribes of chili oil and a dizi to play. The music lessons had yet to be forthcoming, but it looked like Meng Yao's job was to keep Lan Wangji happy. If Meng Yao thought that meant bribing Wei Ying, well, he wasn't about to complain.

Weekdays, were better than weekends. Wei Ying had never thought he'd say that. He didn't hate being alone but, well, people were fun. Lan Wangji wasn't fun. On Friday and Saturday nights, Lan Wangji would crowd in with Wei Ying on the too small bed, spooned in behind him, holding him close. During the days, when Lan Wangji wasn't eating, or meditating, or fucking, he just stared at Wei Ying. It was creepy which was a laugh because what about this situation wasn't? At least on Saturdays, he left for a while to have dinner with his uncle and brother.

Wei Ying could hardly wait for Lan Wangji to leave. Ever since that dinner the night before, he felt like spun glass, as if he might shatter at any moment. Why had he thought Nie Huaisang would help him? Obviously, they wouldn't let him near anyone who didn't already know he was a prisoner. He'd been so stupid. Nie Huaisang had gotten a real kick out of saying he'd passed Wei Ying's personal information to Lan Wangi. Sadistic bastard. Wei Ying hadn't had a chance to breathe since. And so, Wei Ying just needed Lan Wangji to go.

Except he didn't. Instead, two sets of clothes were brought in. One for Lan Wangji and one for him. "We should shower," Lan Wangji said, "before dinner with uncle and brother."

Please, no, Wei Ying thought, but instead said, "Because the last dinner went so well."

"You did not like brother's friends?"

Wei Ying hadn't expected Lan Wangji to pick up on his sarcasm. "Nie Huaisang was a bit over the top, uh, in my space too much."

"I will keep you by my side in future."

"Great." Just what he needed, more time right by Lan Wangji's side.

At least Lan Wangji hadn't left enough time for shower sex. Wei Ying tried to count that as a blessing. So few things in this new life weren't horrible; even the mere lack of something terrible counted. As he dressed, Wei Ying jerked his hand back from the fabric of the dark maroon shirt. The fabric was so soft that he knew Lan Wangji would ask him to leave it on when they were alone in bed. The black slacks matched the jacket which hung asymmetrically, one side longer by a good foot. Lan Wangi, wearing his usual family dinner outfit, white turtleneck and blue pants, stared so long that Wei Ying thought he'd put it on wrong.

"You look beautiful."

Oh, Wei Ying knew he had to say something, and "thank you" seemed inadequate, but what else was there to say? Lan Wangji seemed to think it was enough.

They took the elevator to the same floor as the night before, but at least they went to a different apartment. Wei Ying didn't get enough time to take it in before an old man – Lan Wangji's uncle? – started yelling. "What is that creature doing here?"

Before Wei Ying could think about darting to hide, Lan Wangji grabbed his arm and pulled him down the hall. Wei Ying scrambled to keep up. Xichen, still by the door, asked, "Why did you bring him?"

"Saturday dinner is family time," Lan Wangji said as if that explained anything. He didn't respond to his brother again but instead pulled Wei Ying into the elevator and hit the button for the roof. They stepped out into a garden. Wei Ying startled as the elevator, walls and all, sunk down into the floor. The gray brick tile fit so well that Wei Ying could barely tell where the elevator had been. As Lan Wangji led him down the path, Wei Ying took in the garden. Rows of sunlamps, standing just past the edge of the walkway, scattered arcs of crisscrossing light. To either side, flowers had closed themselves against the night. Beyond that, through the greenhouse walls, he could see the lights of the city and, above, the stars, far more than he could see from the tiny window in his room. They came to an open area encircled with benches and more plants. To the far right, a waterfall crashed down onto rocks. It looked far too natural to be indoors. Its water fed a stream that ran across the length of the building.

"This was mother's garden," Lan Wangji told him. "Even after she moved into the room that is now yours, father let us visit her here once a month if we behaved."

Wei Ying looked away and pretended to stare at the waterfall. Had he heard that right? Had Lan Wangji's mother been imprisoned here too?

Lan Wangji led him to the edge of the water and knelt before a small altar. Wei Ying, not sure what Lan Wangji wanted him to do, knelt beside him. The altar, centered around a memorial plaque with the name Lu Zhi, was surrounded by the same flowers that edged the walkway. Wei Ying reached out to touch one.

"Gentians," Lan Wangji said. "They were mother's favorite." He lit three sticks of incense and stayed there staring ahead while Wei Ying wondered about his childhood. Had his father really imprisoned his mother? What must that have been like, only seeing her once a month? Why had nobody else in the family spoken up? Were they all so fucked up that they didn't see it was wrong? Wei Ying would have felt bad for Lan Wangi if he hadn't turned into a crazed kidnapper, but maybe it wasn't his fault he'd turned out that way.

Lan Wangji abruptly stood. It wasn't until he'd been helped to his feet that Wei Ying noticed Meng Yao standing at the edge of the walkway. "Your brother told me you'd missed dinner. I'm having something prepared, but it'll be about another forty minutes. Would you prefer to eat up here?"

"Mm."

"Your brother suggested you might like your guqin." Meng Yao pointed to a case on a bench.

"Mm." Lan Wangji sat by the case and pulled out an instrument. He didn't seem to see Meng Yao nod before turning to walk away.

Wei Ying stared at Meng Yao's retreating back. Had he been pulled away from whatever he'd been doing just to make sure Lan Wangji didn't miss dinner? Had Lan Wangji spared him even a moment's thought? "Thank you," Wei Ying called out.

Wei Ying listened as Lan Wangji started playing the guqin. The notes were perfectly timed, too perfectly. They held no variation to evoke emotion. How could such a calm facade hide such wild passions?