Drunken Mistake

DM 44

Wei Wuxian drummed his fingers on the steering wheel with the intensity of a man orchestrating an imaginary symphony of irritation. His jaw was clenched so tight it looked like he was auditioning for a role as a granite statue. The car was a bubble of tension, so thick it could have been sold as an industrial adhesive.

When Xue Yang finally emerged from the building, he walked with the swagger of someone who had just sealed a deal with the devil and was immensely proud of himself for it. Sliding into the passenger seat, he tossed Wei Wuxian a smirk so infuriating it could have been weaponized.

"Done spitting on my back?" Xue Yang quipped, buckling himself in with all the grace of someone who absolutely knew they were in control of the conversation.

Wei Wuxian's eyes stayed glued to the windshield, his voice coming out sharp enough to cut glass. "Xiao Xingchen isn't going anywhere. I tried to talk some sense into him. I know you'll regret your decision to fire him once you cool down."

Xue Yang leaned back, hands laced behind his head, exuding a level of nonchalance that screamed I run this show now. "I offered you the position of CEO in the hopes you'd bolster the company, not undermine my authority," Wei Wuxian said, his tone tight as a bowstring.

Xue Yang gave a theatrical sigh, complete with a slow shake of his head. "This isn't about authority, Wei Wuxian. Xingchen didn't offend you—he offended me. And, unlike you, I am a forgiving, compassionate soul."

Wei Wuxian snorted so loudly it might have been mistaken for the start of a sneeze. Xue Yang ignored him and leaned in conspiratorially.

"See, I'm ready to forgive and forget because, let's face it, I'd like to get into his pants, stay there all night, and then maybe extend my stay indefinitely." He delivered this with the sincerity of someone explaining quantum mechanics to a toddler.

Wei Wuxian's composure shattered like glass hitting a marble floor. He doubled over, his laughter bouncing off the car's interior. Tears streamed down his face, and he slapped the steering wheel with a force that could have set off the airbags. His cackles morphed into wheezing as he gasped for breath.

"Feeling better?" Xue Yang asked, raising an eyebrow like the world's most smug therapist.

Wei Wuxian, still wiping tears, shook his head vigorously. "No," he wailed, the laughter breaking down into a series of unhinged sobs. He buried his face in his hands, a mess of conflicting emotions.

Xue Yang patted his shoulder awkwardly. "You know, you can end all this melodrama with a single truth. Tell Lan Wangji that you're Ying'er. You've got your memories back, right? Mo Xuanyu doesn't. He can't prove he's you, but you can."

Wei Wuxian groaned, dragging his hands down his face. "And then what? Have him spend the rest of his life feeling nothing for me except regret and guilt? Great plan."

Xue Yang perked up, his grin positively wolfish. "Oh, come on. Wangji is head over heels for his A'Xian. If he's agreeing to a divorce, it's probably for some noble, self-sacrificing reason. Maybe Xuanyu is blackmailing him, or maybe that Song Lan filled his head with nonsense like he did Xiao Xingchen."

Wei Wuxian turned his head slightly, curiosity piqued. "And what nonsense would that be?""That you eloped with me," Xue Yang said, deadpan, his expression so innocent it was practically criminal.

Wei Wuxian burst into another fit of laughter so violent it nearly shook the car. "That—that is the funniest thing I've heard all year!" He paused to wipe his eyes again. "Legally, you're my spouse's adopted son. I'm sort of your mother."

Xue Yang recoiled in mock horror, clutching his chest like he'd been shot. "Okay, wow. Let's not go there. I already have enough therapy bills without unpacking that. It's weird, and you know it."