Drunken Mistake

DM 57

Lan Qiren sat in his meticulously arranged study, the soft light of dawn filtering through the sheer curtains. A cup of tea rested on the edge of his desk, untouched, as he scrolled through the morning's correspondence on his tablet. The tranquility of the moment was interrupted by the sharp trill of his phone. Frowning, he glanced at the caller ID. A'Ying? At this hour?

He picked up, his voice clipped but polite. "A'Ying. What is the meaning of this early disturbance?"

"Baba..." Wei Wuxian's voice wavered, broken by hiccups and muffled sobs.

Lan Qiren straightened in his chair, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What's wrong? Speak clearly."

"He—Lan Zhan—he's here," Wei Wuxian stammered between sobs, his voice cracking. "At my apartment. He... he figured it out."

Lan Qiren's frown deepened. "What did he figure out?"

"That I'm A'Ying!" Wei Wuxian wailed, his sobs growing louder. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I—I panicked. I locked myself in my bedroom. He's out in the hallway, and I—" His words dissolved into incoherent cries.

Lan Qiren pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly through his nose. "A'Ying, stop crying like a child. You are an adult. Face your problems with the dignity of a Lan."

Wei Wuxian's sobs only intensified. "Dignity of a Lan?" he choked out, gasping for breath. "I'm not a Lan! I'm Wei Wuxian, the troublemaker! The shameless one! The—"

"Enough," Lan Qiren snapped, his patience wearing thin. "This is no time for dramatics."

"But he's out there!" Wei Wuxian cried, his voice muffled, likely by a pillow. "How am I supposed to face him? What do I say? He looked so... so stunned! And I ran away like a coward!"

Lan Qiren's jaw tightened as he fought the urge to hang up. Instead, he forced his tone to remain even. "Listen to me. Unlock the door. Speak to him calmly. There is no reason to behave so foolishly."

"I can't," Wei Wuxian whimpered, his voice barely audible. "I can't, I can't, I can't."

Lan Qiren let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Very well. I am on my way. Do not do anything more ridiculous until I arrive."

"You're coming here?" Wei Wuxian sniffled, a glimmer of hope in his voice.

"Someone has to deal with this mess," Lan Qiren muttered, already rising from his chair. "And since you clearly cannot, it falls to me. Do not make me regret this."

"Thank you, Baba," Wei Wuxian said, though his words were still punctuated by the occasional sob. "I'll—I'll try to hold it together until you get here."

Lan Qiren hung up without another word, shaking his head. Sliding his phone into his pocket, he reached for his coat. "A'Ying," he muttered under his breath. "A grown man reduced to tears over something so trivial. What a headache."

But as he stepped out into the crisp morning air, his pace quickened. Despite his grumbling, there was a flicker of concern in his usually stern gaze.

***

Lan Wangji stood frozen in the hallway, his hand still hovering where it had futilely tried the bedroom door. The wood between them felt impenetrable, as if it symbolized not just the physical barrier but the emotional labyrinth that had unraveled in mere minutes. Wei Wuxian—no, Wei Ying—had admitted the truth, darted inside, and locked himself away.

Locked himself away.

The thought hit him with a pang. Was he afraid? Afraid of rejection? Of judgment? Did Wei Ying think so little of him?