Drunken Mistake

DM 49

The restaurant Lan Wangji had chosen seemed plucked from the pages of a serene painting, its lantern-lit façade offering a quiet refuge from Suzhou's ceaseless rhythm. Tucked in a secluded alley, its simplicity was almost a mirror of Lan Wangji's own demeanor—unassuming, but with a depth that spoke volumes if one cared to notice. Inside, the air was thick with the aroma of spiced tea and delicate steamed buns.

Wei Wuxian sat at a corner table, his fingers absently tapping against a porcelain teacup. The rhythmic motion betrayed his usual calm, but his face revealed nothing save for the faintest curve of a smirk. He had a perfect view of the entrance, and his dark eyes flicked there every so often, his anticipation disguised as mere curiosity.

The door creaked open.

Lan Wangji entered, his figure striking in the lantern's glow, pale robes catching the light like woven moonlight. The hum of conversation in the restaurant dipped almost imperceptibly as if his presence alone demanded reverence. His movements were precise and deliberate, his face a mask of stoic calm.

Wei Wuxian straightened but kept his posture casual, leaning back in his chair as Lan Wangji approached.

"Hanguang-jun," Wei Wuxian greeted, his voice light, yet laced with a quiet challenge. He gestured lazily to the chair across from him. "You called me out for a private meeting at such a cozy little spot? If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to woo me."

Lan Wangji hesitated, a faint flicker of something indecipherable crossing his expression before he inclined his head and settled into the chair. "Perhaps," he said evenly, his tone soft but steady.

Wei Wuxian blinked, momentarily caught off guard, but recovered quickly with a grin. "Lan Zhan, was that a joke? Or should I be taking notes on how Hanguang-jun conducts first dates?"

Lan Wangji's lips twitched, almost imperceptibly. "I promised to woo you properly. So, it should start with a first date, fixed by a mutual friend," Lan Wangji inclined his head in acknowledgment, his movements deliberate as he settled into the chair. For a moment, neither spoke. Wei Wuxian let the silence stretch, studying the man before him—the faint tension in his jaw, the way his gaze flickered down before meeting his eyes.

"Aren't we a bit late for introductions?" Wei Wuxian prompted, breaking the stillness.

For a moment, silence fell between them. Wei Wuxian let it linger, studying Lan Wangji closely—the slight tension in his jaw, the way his gaze flickered down toward the table before resolutely meeting Wei Wuxian's eyes. There was something here, something unspoken but heavy.

"So, what else is going on? Your shift to Suzhou going smooth so far?" Wei Wuxian finally asked, tilting his head in mock curiosity. "Don't tell me my radiant company has already granted you a sunny disposition."

Lan Wangji straightened, his hands resting lightly on the edge of the table. His knuckles whitened ever so slightly as he spoke. "I need your help."

Wei Wuxian raised an eyebrow, his teasing expression faltering. "Help? From me? Should I be flattered or worried?"

Lan Wangji's gaze held steady, though his voice softened. "It's about A'Ying."

The name hit like a well-aimed stone, shattering the playful air Wei Wuxian had tried to maintain. He leaned back, his smile slipping into something more guarded. "A'Ying, again" he groaned, his voice carefully neutral. "And what makes you think I can help with him?"

Lan Wangji hesitated, his composure fracturing just slightly as he lowered his gaze. "Xue Yang has... met him," he said finally. "He shows signs of trauma. My uncle believes he needs counseling. He sought Mianmian's expertise. I..." He faltered, the words catching in his throat. "I don't know how to face what I have done."

Wei Wuxian's eyes narrowed, his mind racing. "What exactly are you saying, Ji Ge? It's history. You think you still affect a person after decades?" he asked, his tone sharper now.

Lan Wangji exhaled slowly, his hands tightening into fists on the table. "I need to know if it is truly him," he said, his voice low but resolute. "And if it is... I must make amends. For what I did. For failing him."

Wei Wuxian leaned forward, his expression hard to read. "Are you sure this A'Ying isn't just another Mo Xuanyu?" he asked, his voice sharper now. "You remember how that ended."

Lan Wangji's face didn't flinch, though his jaw tightened. "Shufu is not easily deceived," he said, his tone clipped. "If he believes this is A'Ying, I must trust his judgment."

"And if he's wrong?" Wei Wuxian pressed. "What then? What if you're chasing ghosts?"

Lan Wangji didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stared at the table as if the answer were etched in the polished wood. "I cannot ignore the possibility," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "Even if it is not him... I must try. I owe him that much."

Wei Wuxian's fingers tightened on his teacup. He forced a wry smile, leaning forward. "So you're here to confirm his identity or to absolve yourself of guilt? What would that mean for us?" he questions.

The questions hung between them, sharp and unyielding. Lan Wangji's hands tightened into fists on the table, his knuckles whitening. "A'Ying is a past I need to resolve to transition into a future with you. I am here because I cannot carry this alone," he said, his voice breaking ever so slightly.

For the first time, Wei Wuxian saw the cracks in Hanguang-jun's armor—the tremble in his voice, the way his shoulders seemed to bow under an invisible weight. The sight hit him harder than he expected.

"You seduced him, he ran away, it's been over a decade. What am I missing, Ji ge?" Wei Wuxian asked softly.

Lan Wangji's gaze dropped, his fingers unclenching as he exhaled shakily. "I locked him away," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "He was sick—feverish, starving. And I... I pushed him away. Locked him in a room with the creature he feared most."

Wei Wuxian's heart clenched, but he kept his expression neutral.

"I was afraid," Lan Wangji continued, his voice raw. "Afraid of hurting him myself. I thought I was protecting him, but I... I failed him." His voice broke, and he dropped his head into his hands.

Wei Wuxian reached across the table, his hand brushing Lan Wangji's clenched fists.

Lan Wangji froze, his head snapping up to meet Wei Wuxian's gaze.

"Ji Ge," he said softly, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his chest. "You didn't know. You couldn't have known."

Lan Wangji looked up, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. "But I should have," he whispered, his voice raw with guilt.

Wei Wuxian held his gaze, his expression softening. "You're here now," he said gently. "You're trying. That's more than most would do."

Lan Wangji exhaled shakily, the tension in his frame loosening ever so slightly.

Wei Wuxian leaned back, his lips quirking into a faint smile. "So, what's the plan? A heartfelt letter? A dramatic reunion? Or are you hoping I'll just fix everything for you?"

Lan Wangji hesitated before replying, his voice quiet but firm. "I will reach out to him," he said. "Slowly. Patiently. I cannot demand forgiveness, but I will earn it."

Wei Wuxian's smile grew, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Good," he said. "Start there. And Ji ge?"

Lan Wangji looked up.

"Don't push me away this time," Wei Wuxian said softly.

Lan Wangji's lips curved into the faintest of smiles. "I won't," he promised.  

A/N And the ball starts rolling. 

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