Lan Qiren has a headache, and it's not going to go away soon. Its physical manifestation is sitting right in front of him, pouring out tea, and looking calm when the words that just came out of WangJi's mouth have done the opposite already, at least in himself.
Lan Zhan carefully takes out his list, lovingly compiled just that morning. Lan Qiren eyes it warily and then lifts his gaze to look at his nephew properly. He does think of him as his son, but that's what is making this even harder. He suspects that his path is suddenly going to become a vertical challenge filled with thorns and craters just because this might be the most stubborn person to walk upon the earth, ever.
It's even harder to reconcile this golden-eyed man as his six year old nephew, having had just a few days to get used to it. It really isn't fair, he thinks, and there should definitely have been a gestation period for him to come to terms with this situation. It was one thing to know and barely accept that this one's six year old body contained an adult Lan WangJi, and another thing entirely to see who his nephew will grow into being right now. It's making his head spin.
Lan Zhan is a powerful cultivator.
Lan Qiren can sense the strength of his golden core from here, no, from the moment Lan Zhan knocked on the door of his office and entered. He, along with the person he wants to marry, is an immortal, and so this is where the problems start, and Lan Qiren's headache worsens.
"I have a list, Shufu," Lan Zhan tells him.
That's another thing. The attitude.
Gone are the days when this kid will ask him anything. He's just going to do whatever the hell he wants to, and not even the Elders can say a thing about it. Lan Qiren sighs. He's already tired, and the sun hasn't even shown his face yet. Maybe he should do the same. Take that as an example. If he ignores Lan Zhan and goes back to bed, will that work?
Lan Zhan pushes the paper towards Lan Qiren urgently. Insistently.
"You're good at lists, aren't you?" Lan Qiren can't help snipping. After all, it's Lan Zhan's kill list, which brought them all to this point in the first place.
Lan Zhan doesn't answer. His face doesn't change, either. Lan Qiren had forgotten about this regarding him, and he narrows his eyes, staring intensely at him and trying to determine what exactly is going on up there in his head. There's a smugness in that tiny crease between his brows and the only minute change on his stoic face. Otherwise, Lan Qiren might as well be talking to a Jade statue right now.
"It is urgent," Lan Zhan adds, unhelpfully.
"I'm sure it is," Lan Qiren reluctantly pulls the cursed list closer. Honestly, he'd rather deal with a dozen Tortoises of Slaughter, he thinks, than whatever is on here. He starts reading it, and okay, the first item on the list is alright.
The Jingshi.
As a young man, now of marriageable age, it is expected that Lan Zhan might not want to share a bed with members of his own family. He would want his own independence, his own space, a home that can house all of his own things in a respectable manner.
"I would have thought you would be more interested in having your sword," Lan Qiren replies offhandedly.
Lan Zhan puts Bichen on the table between them.
Lan Qiren gapes at him.
And now, that IS a smug tilt of his lips.
"When?" He demands, wondering why he never noticed what Lan Zhan was carrying when he walked in. "How?"
"Bichen always belonged to our Ancestors. I merely visited the Cold Pond Cave this morning and was presented with what already belongs to me. WangJi, too, is with me now. I spent the appropriate time re-establishing our spiritual connection. There is nothing to worry about." Lan Zhan looks pointedly at the list again, drawing his uncle's attention to the matter at hand. Shufu is unusually and particularly slow today, for some reason. He just needs a push.
