Hold My Hand

Reunion

Lan Wangji stood off to the side, nursing a glass of untouched juice, his gaze scanning the room with disinterest. The laughter and small talk around him seemed hollow, the sugary scent of fruity drinks clinging to the air, matching the sweet lies being exchanged. It had been five years since graduation, and most people here hadn’t spoken in as many. The awkward reintroductions felt like theater, everyone playing roles—roles easier to fake with people who had become little more than strangers.

Across the room, Lan Xichen, all poise and elegance, engaged in polite conversation with a cluster of old classmates, his smile soft but practiced. The lawyer, always the favored son, had somehow maintained his shine even into his thirties, now the golden fiancé to the prestigious Jin family. His younger brother, though, lingered in the shadows, unnoticed by the masses but for the occasional glance. They had no idea that the startup they whispered about, HG Informatics, was his creation. That was fine. He preferred being seen as Lan Qiren’s nephew, Lan Xichen’s baby brother—the quiet nerd, the peculiar one.

The door creaked open, and a ripple of whispers stirred the room. Lan Wangji, half-removed from the scene, turned his head just slightly, enough to catch the figure that stepped inside. A boy in a plain black shirt and jeans, looking out of place in the sea of polished appearances. The murmur around him grew more pointed.

“Isn’t that the rent boy Jiaojiao dumped?”

Lan Wangji’s grip tightened around his glass.

“She caught him cheating with a guy,” someone hissed.

“Bisexual, I heard.”

“Pansexual, but broke as hell,” came the sneer from a different corner.

The accusations flew quick, like darts in the dim light. “Robbed a girl. Spent three months in prison. Who even invited him?”

“The school probably sent the invites to anyone they had on record,” someone said dismissively. “He’s just here for the free food.”

“I feel threatened just by him being here,” a girl, the one who used to chew gum noisily during class, chimed in, her voice cutting through the murmur.

Lan Wangji’s eyes tracked the boy—Wei Ying, his name prickled on the edge of memory. His posture was tense, his gaze flickering between faces, looking for any hint of familiarity, but finding only veiled hostility. Lan Wangji stayed rooted to his spot, silent. A face from the past, always energetic, always smiling—Wei Ying had been his academic rival, always close behind, always pushing him, back when competition was a game they both enjoyed.

Now? The boy in front of him was barely a shadow of that person.

Lan Wangji’s mind drifted, recalling fragments: the school camping trip, that tent they’d shared. How Wei Ying had slept so soundly, completely oblivious to the way his arm had draped over him in the night. Wei Ying had always been like that—oblivious. Wei Oblivious, Lan Wangji used to call him in the privacy of his mind. And now, here he was again, looking just as out of place and just as lost.
Wei Ying’s eyes darted around the room, scanning for anything or anyone to anchor him, but every face held either disdain or indifference. Even Jiang Cheng, his stepbrother, refused to meet his eyes, his cold dismissal hitting harder than the whispered insults. Just as Wei Ying was about to turn and flee, Lan Wangji moved, breaking from his stillness and crossing the room with purpose.

Without warning, Lan Wangji’s hand closed around Wei Ying’s wrist, pulling him against his chest. The action was so sudden, so unexpected, that Wei Ying didn’t even react at first. He stared up at Lan Wangji in shock, his eyes wide, taking in the man who once seemed untouchable. It had been years since they’d spoken, but here he was—his rival, the perfect student, the one Wei Ying could never quite surpass. But Lan Wangji was different now. The warmth in his touch, the concern in his eyes as they flickered over Wei Ying’s thin frame, was undeniable.