Drunken Mistake

DM 47

The late afternoon sunlight spilled through the lattice windows of the Jingshi, creating a mosaic of warm, shifting patterns on the polished floor. Wei Wuxian leaned against the windowsill, his phone tapping rhythmically against his chin. Though the incessant buzzing of messages had ceased, the tension in the air hadn't.

Next door, Lan Wangji was in the Hanshi—a mere stone's throw away. Yet, the silence between them stretched as if they were worlds apart. Sometimes the wind blew in the faint murmur from the window opposite him, snippets of a conversation that he wasn't privy to and yet which circled around him. 

Lan Wangji didn't take a single step towards Jingshi. It was an assurance and a disappointment, Wei Wuxian's lips curled into a faint smile, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of something heavier, more bittersweet. "Dedicated to the present, huh?" he murmured, the words catching slightly in his throat. There was pride there, admiration even, but beneath it lingered a quiet ache he refused to acknowledge fully. Would he never be able to accept him completely? 

The rumble of a car engine shattered the fragile quiet. Wei Wuxian straightened, peering out the window. Sure enough, Xue Yang's car—dark and ostentatious, a glaring contrast to the Cloud Recess aesthetic—rolled past the Hanshi. The vehicle slowed just enough to make Wei Wuxian's eyebrows rise, before it cruised confidently toward the Jingshi.

Inside the Hanshi, Lan Wangji stood by the window, his gaze tracking the car like a hawk. His expression was unreadable, but the subtle tension in his shoulders betrayed his unease. The driver's side window was pulled down and he made the appearance of the one at the wheel, his hackles rising from the significance of it. 

Xue Yang?

Lan Wangji's brow furrowed as possibilities unraveled in his mind. What business did Xue Yang have here, and why at the Jingshi? Did he track A'Ying? Did A'Ying invite him? Did they already meet? The questions gnawed at him. He had once entrusted Xue Yang to find his A'Ying, everything about him and as his best friend was close to achieving the impossible, he felt betrayed. Why wouldn't he give up when Lan Wangji himself had chosen to turn away. Was he on the right track? His jaw clenched slightly as the car disappeared down the familiar path toward what used to be his sanctuary—a place he had just learned housed A'Ying.

Lan Wangji turned away from the window, his expression inscrutable as he doubled back inside Lan Qiren's study. His expression lost. 

"Is there something left unsaid, Wangji?" Lan Qiren asked, his voice steady but probing at the sudden appearance.

Lan Wangji hesitated, his hands clasped behind his back. "Last time, I acted on my own. My actions were..." His words trailed off, the unspoken weight of his failure lingering in the air.

Lan Qiren's sharp gaze softened. "You were young. Your resolve now shows your growth. To focus on your spouse and your future is wise. The past..." He paused meaningfully. "Should remain where it belongs."

Lan Wangji inclined his head, his expression unreadable. "It is the only path I see."

Without another word, he turned and left the Hanshi. ---By the time Xue Yang's car pulled up to the Jingshi, Wei Wuxian was already leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed, an amused glint in his eyes.

Xue Yang stepped out of the car with his usual dramatic flair, flipping his keys in the air and catching them with a smirk.

"That car," he said, jerking his thumb back toward the Hanshi. "Didn't I see it parked in front of Mianmian's house yesterday? It belongs to Xichen, right? Don't tell me your Wangji's already making moves."

"Lan Wangji is currently burying the hatchet with Baba in Hanshi. He is also trying to establish that he has moved on by keeping himself away from me i.e. the Wei Ying version of me," Wei Wuxian explained. 

"Rejection and Wooing, both blended into one. Way to go mamma. You're gonna have your husband eating out of your hand in no time," Xue Yang teased. 

Wei Wuxian's easy demeanor faltered for the briefest second before he plastered on a wide grin. "Husband, huh? Is that what we're calling him these days?"

Xue Yang snorted, brushing past him to the worktable inside, cluttered with logo drafts. "You tell me."

Wei Wuxian shook his head, unwilling to comment. His eyes followed to the desk at one end of the room, waving vaguely at the designs. "These logos work separately," he explained, picking up one of the drafts, "but look at how they merge here." He pointed to a sleek combination of the Lan clan's elegant motifs and the carefree, flowing lines of a lotus.

Xue Yang tilted his head, nodding grudgingly at a couple of the designs. "Not bad, Yiling Laozu. You might actually have a future outside of troublemaking and deflection."

Wei Wuxian grinned, but the words didn't distract him from the prickling sensation that had settled in his chest. Did Lan Wangji see Xue Yang?

***

After dinner, the Jingshi was quiet again. Wei Wuxian leaned back in his chair, recalling snippets of Lan Qiren's voice drifting through the open window earlier.

"The past should remain where it belongs," he mimicked, pulling a face. "How's he going to accept his present without realizing his past is sitting right here, designing logos and arguing about font sizes?"

Across the room, Xue Yang chuckled, crumpling one of the rejected drafts and tossing it at him. "You're enjoying this way too much."

Wei Wuxian dodged the paper ball, laughing, but his mirth was cut short when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen. Dr. Luo.

"What's the diagnosis this time, Doc?" he answered, his voice teasing.

"Permission," Mianmian said, her voice tense. "I need to tell Lan Xichen everything."

Wei Wuxian froze. "Everything?" he repeated slowly.

"About you. About A'Ying. About why Wangji—"

Her voice abruptly cut off, replaced by the faint sound of movement on her end of the line.

"Mianmian?" Wei Wuxian asked, frowning. "What's going on?"

Then, low and deliberate, another voice came through, smooth as a blade sliding free of its sheath. "What everything?"

Wei Wuxian's heart stuttered. He knew that voice. Lan Wangji.

The line went dead.

A/N I am playing with this idea. What if the game was two ways and Mianmian got caught in the middle? 

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