Wen Qing drops them off at their room, giving them a little wave before she disappears.
Lan Bobo and Lan Hao are kind and gentle, wiping their little faces with a washcloth before helping the children to change into their night robes. Then they're tucked in, ready to sleep.
“They don't look tired at all,” Lan Bobo says, grinning at them.
“Do you think we should read them a bedtime story?” Lan Hao goes towards the bookcase, looking for something that might help with that, like a fairytale, or something funny.
He comes back with a red scroll tied with a white ribbon. Upon unrolling it, he reads the first few lines and bursts out laughing before gaining control of himself.
“I think these might be the Wen sect guidelines,” he snickers. “You wanted to entertain them!”
“Put it back,” Lan Bobo says after skim-reading through it. “Look, they're already half asleep. Otherwise, I would have subjected them to some of your singing.”
“We don't want to give them nightmares,” the other quips, as they close the door behind them.
Wei Ying waits a full five seconds before looking around, pushing his unruly curls out of his eyes. “They're gone,” he whispers to Lan Zhan, who also sits up with not a wink of sleepiness in his eyes. But they can both hear the guards outside, still bickering between themselves.
He pulls Wei Ying closer and begins to braid his hair so it's out of his way, as they wait for Wen Qing. A long time ago, Lan Zhan had studied a book on different hairstyles, and one in particular had caught his eye. It specified that this design meant love forever, especially if woven by a husband or a wife. He thinks he may be able to replicate it.
“How is Wen Qing gonna meet us?” Wei Ying wants to know. “They're still outside, and they'll probably stay until Shifu comes back.”
“Mn. I do not know,” Lan Zhan admits.
Just as he finishes weaving Wei Ying’s red ribbon into the braid and ties it off with a bow, there's a noise behind them. Wei Ying immediately climbs into his lap, holding him tightly with their cheeks pressed together.
Lan Zhan is understandably distracted. This is…nice.
And then in the darkened room, they see a floating light illuminating Wen Qing's face as she steps into the room from behind the bookcase. It's creepy, but because they know it's her, it's funny, too.
“A-Ying,” she breathes out heavily, her hand stroking his round cheeks. “I can't believe you're here!” And then she pulls out a sheaf of talisman papers from her sleeve, carefully putting the candle on the bedside table first. “I brought you something. Do a silencing talisman first, then we'll talk.” She adds to the things on the bed.
There's an inkstone, some charcoal and a brush. Wei Ying thinks for a moment and then begins to draw, thanking the powers that be for talismans not needing any spiritual energy to activate. Otherwise, Wei Ying would have been up the creek without a paddle, had it not been so. He flings the yellow strips of paper all around the room, not forgetting the ceiling, watching the characters turn red with intent as they sink into his chosen surfaces.
“Alright, now we can talk. How come you know… you know, everything?” Wei Ying demands, unable to hold back now that nothing is stopping them. “And what the hell, Qing-Jie?? How the fuck did you climb out of the bookcase?”
“Language,” Lan Zhan says mildly, throwing him a fond look.
“I still can't believe it!” Wen Qing says, and bursts into tears. “I thought I was all alone! And I didn't understand even when I woke up in my eight year old body, with no idea what had happened!”
