It is five in the morning, when Xichen can no longer focus on tidying his apartment, that he falls asleep. Surrounded by the pillows and books Jiang Cheng has graciously thrown aside, the immortal is barely recognisable. His hair has escaped its ponytail and he has somewhat fallen asleep in an awkward position, curled up against the corner of the couch with a book digging into his back. If one were to look at him from the outside, they will see a man in the middle of a life crisis, sleeping after an emotional breakdown and destroying half of his apartment.

In his dreams, however, he is wearing his Gusu Lan robes again. He is the only one in white. Everyone else is bleeding.

Xichen takes a step back. He has seen this before, both in reality and in the countless dreams that torment him. Nie Mingjue is on the ground, lifeless, and his younger brother is cradling him in his arms. Huaisang is always crying but he has never cried like this before. No matter how many times Xichen is thrown back into this memory, he cannot stop himself from flinching at the desperation in the young man's voice.

He shakes his brother and begs him to wake up. He shakes him until there are faceless disciples that pry him away. They take Nie Mingjue's body and Huaisang stumbles after them.

Xichen will take a step forward. A hand darts to grab his wrist, stops him from taking another one. He looks down and sees A-Yao, staring at the two brothers disappearing into the distance. The hand around Xichen's wrist is shaking.

Back then, he thought it was shock, that A-Yao was as scared of losing their First Brother like he was. Maybe, it is still shock. His plan to kill their brother has worked, but he is not scared. He has succeeded.

The scene ripples into years that rush by in seconds. A-Yao marries Qin Sun, and Xichen's smile for them feels strained. His brother has moved on with his life. It is time he does the same.

But moving on is a difficult thing. Wei Wuxian dies; the news is delivered with celebrations, with the cheers of people in the streets declaring the demonic cultivator is finally rotting in hell.

Wangji retreats further and further into himself. Xichen wants to help him—how?

Time passes by. Nothing happens. Everyone lives through each day simply because they must. A-Yao tries his best to maintain peace between all the sects as Chief Cultivator, and Huaisang has grown quiet and withdrawn. He no longer cries to them.

“A-Sang has been acting strangely. Have you noticed, Brother?” A-Yao asks once.

Xichen can only nod. He makes it a goal to speak to the young man and see if there is anything he can do.

The next day, the Unclean Realm explodes into a shower of debris and dust. Sect Leader Nie Huaisang cannot be found among the rubble. His soul is lost, scattered, along with his body. Inquiry does not reach him, no matter how many times Xichen tries to amend for his careless timing. He should have visited A-Sang sooner. He should have done something.

There are too many questions and even more casualties. Qinghe Nie Sect is almost non-existent and no one is left to lead their people into security. The destruction of their base not only killed their leader but a majority of their cultivators. It is unthinkable how anyone could have planned this. Inhuman.

Everything is falling. Xichen does not know which piece to pick up first.

It is difficult to tell if this dream is now travelling in seconds or years or an infinity. Xichen is trying his best understand A-Sang's death. He needs answers, both for A-Sang and Mingjue-xiong. He must let them rest.

Through the blurs and the voices he cannot make out, Xichen ends up in his room. He stands in the darkness, the voices in his head no longer audible. He is alone and this room is too small. Suffocating. He cannot rest. He has not slept for days, he thinks.

Xichen grabs a book, desperate for any form of distraction. Something falls out of it. A torn page.

He picks it up. Everything shatters with each character he reads. The silence is gone, replaced by these words he cannot, cannot fit into his questions. He asks why, why, why and all he has is this letter that rips apart everything he has ever believed in.

Why, why, why.

I will be dead by the time you find this.

Why.

Jin Guangyao killed my brother. I have always known. I have been trying for years to reveal him and avenge Brother but nothing is working. I have tried so hard, too hard. He is growing suspicious of my actions and I fear my time is running out.

Lan Xichen, do not trust him. He has killed your sworn brother, he has killed his father, his wife, and his son. He will kill me soon.

Open your eyes and see him for the man that he is.

Xichen drops the letter.

He awakes. The sun is the first thing he sees, peaking out through the clouds that covered it yesterday. His body is stiff and his back is aching, though Xichen stays where he is.

Somehow, he has managed to sleep. After that dream, he wishes he hadn't.

He casts a quick glance at the clock. Eight AM. Three hours of sleep is more than what he normally gets and he has grown accustomed to the tired weight in his body, anyway.

The dreams, however... Can he say he has grown used to them, when it is all he thinks about as he is getting ready for work?

He recalls that Nie Huaisang is also alive in this lifetime. Is he happy?

Xichen tries his best to forget about it when he has finished dressing. Nie Mingjue, Nie Huaisang, Jin Guangyao... Whatever happened in the past should stay in the past. They are not weighed down by their past lives. He should stay away. He should stop thinking about them.

Easier said than done, but at least the trip to his library is quick. There are no Jiang Chengs glaring at him this morning and the elevator thankfully does not break while he is inside. Even if it does, it will be easier to fix it without the officer scrutinising his every move.

The weather is also better than yesterday. It is still cold, though the temperature does not affect his body either way. Xichen spares a moment to glance up at the sky, wondering if this sunshine will last until the afternoon. He hopes spring will arrive soon. The winter has always felt lonelier for him.

Most of the people he walks past look tired, unhappy to be in the cold rather than in the confines of their bed. While he is tired, he is grateful for any form of distraction to make these repetitive days pass by. Opening up this library is more an act of desperation rather than a job.

Xichen rounds the last corner. He can see his library at the end of this street, but stops when he hears noises coming from an alleyway. Frowning, he turns to it.

They sound like... children?

He walks towards the sounds, craning his head around the brick wall.

There are four of them. One is being pushed around while the other three are jeering and calling him names. It is only when the lone kid falls to the floor that Xichen catches a glimpse of his face.

Jin Ling.

Xichen steps out, deliberately coughing. Almost immediately, all of their heads snap up to look at him. The other kids are already starting to back away from Jin Ling. So young and ignorant; scared of getting into trouble despite creating it in the first place.

“I wonder how Officer Jiang will react if he finds out his nephew has been attacked,” Xichen says out loud. He does not miss the way Jin Ling's eyes widen at him, sheer horror at the idea of his uncle finding out.

As expected, the other kids are running away before he manages to finish that sentence. Xichen sighs, shaking his head. He feels quite sorry for them. Children like that have not grown up with the right form of guidance to direct them towards good or bad.

“Are you okay?” he asks Jin Ling, offering a hand. “Don't move so much, you are hurt.”

The young teenager's bottom lip trembles as he swats Xichen's hand away. Despite his warnings, Jin Ling pushes himself off the ground, clutching his head. It is bleeding—and quite a lot at that. He must have hit his head on the ground when he fell.

“I don't need your help!” he says, wiping his head in a hopeless attempt to stop the bleeding.

Of course, with all head wounds, they do not really stop bleeding, especially not with Jin Ling's flimsy hands.

“You are bleeding everywhere.”

Still, Jin Ling shakes his head. “You're that criminal with the cookies!”

Criminal with the cookies. Amazing. At least the addition of cookies somewhat makes this funny rather than the way Jiang Cheng calls him. Although, Xichen must admit there is not much improvement.

Jin Ling glares at him again, though it is hard to see when half his head is now covered in blood. He juts his chin and spins around, making for a dramatic exit.

And then starts to sway. The child groans, clutching his head.

“Careful,” Xichen says. He walks over and steadies him on his feet. This time, Jin Ling is too busy swaying to push him off.

“I said I don't need your help! It's not that bad! I beat those bastards up more than this!”

“Now, now.” Xichen raises his voice. “If your uncle were to find out you're injured and you were fighting, will he be happy?”

That gets him to be quiet. Jin Ling scowls at his shuffling feet.

“Come,” Xichen says. “I own a library nearby, I will treat your injury.”

Jin Ling says nothing, but the way he trails after Xichen makes it very obvious this is the last thing he wants to do. Xichen has to keep looking over his shoulder to check the teenager is still behind. He is, and he is glaring twice as hard. The blood makes it worse.

When they get to the library, Sizhui is already there. His smile is wiped off his face when he sees Jin Ling.

“Jin Ling! What happened to you?” Sizhui asks, rushing to him.

“He was fighting a few kids,” Xichen explains.

“The ones from school? Are they still at it?”

Jin Ling shakes him off. It is difficult to tell under the blood but Xichen sees a faint flush on his cheeks. “It's not a big deal! They were asking for it!”

Xichen unlocks the door, opening it for both teenagers. “Let us get you treated first. You're bleeding all over your clothes.”

He also wants to get Jin Ling inside because everyone walking past must be wondering why on earth this child looks as if a zombie has just attacked him.

Luckily, the wound itself is not that deep, mainly a large graze on his head. That still does not stop Jin Ling from making a big fuss, claiming Xichen is making it hurt more. Of course it will hurt if he needs to disinfect it. The alcohol is a stinging pain that lasts only for a few seconds. After they are done, Jin Ling is pouting but it is clear he is in no more pain. He grumbles a quick thank you, making it sound like a curse rather than gratitude. Even so, it is better than nothing.

Sizhui pats his head, fixing the bandages and brushing his hair back into place.

“Y-You don't need to fuss over me!” Jin Ling snaps. “Don't you have work to do!”

Xichen looks at them with amusement in his eyes. “There are no customers yet. You two relax and have fun.”

The bright smile Sizhui gives Jin Ling is no doubt the reason why his face turns red. Xichen cannot help but stare at them fondly. How nice it must be to be young and carefree. He has never had that luxury, and looking at them now, he must say he envies it. Xichen does not regret being born in his time; he is thankful he existed when cultivation was still a norm and not a myth as it is now. However, it does not stop him from wondering if he will be happier if he is given the chance to be reborn.

Starting anew and being able to choose what path he wishes to walk for himself, as opposed to all the expectations laid out before him from the day he was born. Humanity today has everything so easy. How can something look so empty and freeing at the same time?

“Jin Ling, what are your plans for today?” Xichen hears Sizhui asking.

“Nothing... Nothing much. Both my uncles have work so...”

Xichen hates that he looks up. Both his uncles? The other must be Jin Guangyao...

“You can stay here with Sizhui, if you like,” he says out loud.

He can see Jin Ling's narrowing eyes from the other side of the room. “What makes you think I want to stay with him?”

Nevertheless, Jin Ling does indeed stay for the whole day. In fact, he even helps around the library without Xichen needing to tell him. It's quite funny to watch; Jin Ling is clearly only following what Sizhui is doing for the sake of his own pride. He does not want to stand there and do nothing, therefore he helps with sorting books and tidying the library. All the while, he does this with the same haughty expression fixed on his face, though Xichen spots a few hidden smiles here and there.

With the two teenagers tending to the library, Xichen barely has to do anything but watch them from his seat. The customers leave with smiles on their faces, commenting on how well mannered they are. Sizhui is not a surprise, though Xichen will admit he did not expect this from Jin Ling.

Back then, his meetings with the Young Master Jin were few and scarce, even less than the rare times he interacted with Jiang Cheng. Jin Ling took over the position of Lanling Jin's Sect Leader after Jin Guangyao's demise, albeit it was an unsteady reign. There was unresolved tension between all the sects and it did not help Jiang Cheng was slowly, and steadily, becoming a victim to his own obsession in finding Wei Wuxian. Jin Ling, like many young cultivators, was forced to grow up too soon. It is a shame he also died too soon.

He was only twenty three when they found his lifeless body in the forest. A night hunt gone wrong, they said, but you can never trust rumours. Not when his uncle was with him, also dead, and the only ones who knew the answers to this sudden accident were the two of them.

Xichen rises from his seat. The past is the past, he repeats to himself. The past is the past.

“At this rate, I may need to start paying you too, Jin Ling,” he says.

Jin Ling rolls his eyes. “I don't need your money... My family is rich.”

How rude of Xichen to even think of repaying him. Utterly unthinkable. He shouldn't have opened his mouth.

“You are offering work for free?”

“I-I only stayed today because I had nothing else to do! Don't think I'm coming back!”

Sizhui cranes his head, leaning closer to the lordly teenager. He gives him that angelic smile he gives everyone, although Jin Ling flinches as if he has never seen such a thing before.

“You can always come back, Jin Ling. I'll be here every weekend,” Sizhui says.

Xichen wonders if Sizhui can see Jin Ling's blush. If so, he does not say anything, not even when Jin Ling dramatically turns around to avoid his gaze.

“Why are you telling that to me?” Jin Ling mutters.

Something tells Xichen this will not be the last time he will see Jin Ling in this library. Although he can be boisterous and rude, Jin Ling's presence is not unwelcome. Xichen rather likes it. It is also nice to see Sizhui enjoying himself, and anyone with common sense can easily tell Jin Ling is too.

“Will you be staying with Officer Jiang tonight?” Xichen asks. “I can bring you back to the apartments as I'm on my way back.”

Jin Ling checks the time on his phone. “Hmph. Okay.”

“How about you, Sizhui? Would you like me to drive you back home?”

Sizhui gives a short, almost awkward laugh. “Dad is having dinner with Teacher Wei... I don't want to interrupt them.”

Jin Ling lets out a noise that sounds a bit like a squawk. “Your dad is having dinner with who now?”

“Teacher Wei.”

“Why?”

“I... think they like each other.”

“What the fuck?”

“It is a big surprise.”

“Your dad has shit taste.”

Xichen coughs, interrupting both of them. Wangji's tastes aside, it is now four PM and they ought to go home.

Traffic makes the journey longer, turning a five minute drive into half an hour. When he glances at the front mirror, he sees that Jin Ling has fallen asleep with his head on Sizhui's shoulder. His nephew shrugs helplessly at him and Xichen thinks, not for the first time today, that it must be nice to be so young and carefree.

Jin Ling is still half asleep as they arrive at the apartments. He groggily thanks Xichen, which is just another sign that he is not fully awake. Before he goes, he makes sure to adjust his beanie hat in an obvious attempt of trying to cover the bandages underneath. No doubt he is going to try and hide the earlier incident from his uncle.

Perhaps Xichen should remind him his clothes have blood on them...

Never mind. Jin Ling walks off before he has the chance to.

He and Sizhui retreat to his own apartment, both deciding they would like a nice, warm drink after a long day's work. It is a plausible idea, but as soon as Xichen opens the door, he remembers the state of his apartment. Coming back to it now, it actually looks far worse than he remembers. Did he really sleep surrounded by all this?

“Uncle, what happened?” Sizhui gasps.

Xichen scratches his head, closing the door behind them. “I was... arranging a few things yesterday.”

Demolishing would have been a better verb.

Sizhui is as eager to help as ever, already getting started with picking books up from the floor.

“Not now, Sizhui,” Xichen says. “Let's have tea first. You have worked enough today.”

Hesitantly, Sizhui puts the books down and joins him in the kitchen. He is glad for the company; he does not want to dwell on his dreams or the revelation that Jin Guangyao is alive here if he is left alone. Sizhui is good for conversation too. The young boy tells him all about school and how much he is enjoying staying here in Gusu, which Xichen is glad for.

Sizhui vaguely knows he and Wangji are immortal. Vaguely in a sense that they told him when he asked why Wangji did not change like other parents did, why he always looked the same no matter how much taller Sizhui got. It is not really something a young child will grasp in their mind; why their father does not age and why they have to move countries every time someone notices.

Yet, Sizhui has never pried for more answers. He accepts everything with a smile, and it worries Xichen because he is all too familiar with hiding everything behind a pleasant mask.

They finish their tea when there is a knock at the door. Frowning, Xichen gets up. Who could that be? He is not expecting any visitors.

He opens it. Before him stands Jiang Cheng, who is not in his uniform for once. Instead, he is wearing a purple long-sleeved shirt and black slacks. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and Xichen catches sight of a strange, braided string bracelet on his wrist. It reminds him a bit of those friendship bracelets little children make for their best friends.

“Officer?” Xichen says, confused. If Jiang Cheng is going to search his house again, why is he dressed so casually? He is almost unrecognisable like this.

Jiang Cheng runs a hand through his short hair. “I...”

“Are you here to search my home again?”

“No. I came here to thank you.”

Xichen's eyebrows raise. Now that is a surprise.

The officer frowns at him, but his voice remains calm. For once. “Jin Ling told me about today.”

“I was under the impression he did not want you to know.”

“Oh, he didn't.” At this, Jiang Cheng lets out a short smirk. “His clothes had blood on them and he's a shit liar so I made him tell me.”

Xichen has a feeling that conversation did not go very well at all.

“But anyway,” Jiang Cheng continues. “Thanks for helping him. You didn't have to.”

“You are welcome.”

For some reason, Jiang Cheng's eyebrows knit together even more. He folds his arms and lets out a displeased scoff. “You don't have to look so surprised that I'm thanking you!”

“Well, I must admit you thanking me is the last thing I expected...”

“Tch. Whatever.”

They stand there for a while. Xichen is not sure if that dismissive reply was a sign their conversation has already finished. He keeps his hand on the door handle and waits for the officer to leave.

Jiang Cheng doesn't. He tilts his head, looking behind Xichen.

“Aren't you going to tidy that up?” he asks.

Xichen glances over his shoulder. At this point, the state of his apartment is beginning to look homely in all its destruction.

“I have been meaning to,” he slowly says.

Jiang Cheng's dark eyes return to him. His scowl is gone, and Xichen is once again surprised to see he looks almost... sheepish?

“Also... sorry about yesterday,” Jiang Cheng mutters. “I, uh, shouldn't have wrecked your apartment. I don't even have a warrant to do it, so...”

A smile spreads onto Xichen's face. “That is fine. Technically, what you did was illegal, therefore I believe that cancels out my crime now.”

“That's not how it works.”

Jiang Cheng still has not left. In the corner of Xichen's eyes, he can see Sizhui peeking out, most likely wondering what is wrong. Xichen is also wondering why Jiang Cheng looks like he is struggling to say something.

“Uh. Do you need help cleaning that up?”

Xichen blinks. “Are you offering? How nice of you.”

“Shut up! Don't look so shocked!”

Xichen turns around, inspecting his apartment. In truth, he does not need any help. He should have cleaned all this yesterday, but the shock of seeing Jin Guangyao on the TV distracted him too much to do anything. He'd been planning to properly tidy everything when Sizhui leaves later, to distract himself from being alone.

Regardless, it must be rare for Jiang Cheng to offer help, let alone help him. Xichen was under the impression he is going to get arrested again tonight.

“I could do with some help,” he says, opening the door wider. “My nephew is still here, by the way. He's friends with Jin Ling. Perhaps Jin Ling will like to join us?”

“Hmm... I'll call him.”

He watches as Jiang Cheng takes out his phone, barking words at his nephew.

“He asked if you had any more cookies,” Jiang Cheng says after a while.

Xichen laughs at that. “I have a few left. He can have all of them.”

“Then yeah, he's coming.”

Cleaning the apartment does not take long, especially when you have three people helping you. Or two, and Jin Ling occasionally does something after eating a cookie. While tidying, Xichen catches glimpses of Jiang Cheng frowning at a few things, as if tempted to search them. He refrains from doing so, but Xichen is amused he is still convinced he has stolen the sword.

Well, he has. But it is not stealing if Xichen is taking back what is rightfully his. Jiang Cheng, however, does not need to know that.

They finish in less than an hour. Xichen offers tea for everyone (coffee for Jiang Cheng) while Sizhui and Jin Ling watch TV together on the couch. Jin Ling is a bit more animated, showing off about his father's business and how big their house is back in Lanling. Whatever is on TV now is ignored as Sizhui's whole attention is on his friend, patiently nodding at everything Jin Ling is spouting out.

Jiang Cheng sighs, shaking his head at what his nephew is saying. Both adults are sat by the kitchen counter, quietly sipping their drinks with only the sound of Jin Ling's boasting to fill the silence.

“Officer, are you ever going to ask for my name?” Xichen says all of a sudden. It only occurs to him now they have not introduced themselves to each other yet. “I'm afraid you will keep referring to me as 'Criminal'.”

“I remember asking for your name when I fined you...”

“That is hardly an introduction.”

Jiang Cheng shrugs. “Not my fault you didn't give me a good first impression.”

He takes another sip of his coffee, staring at Xichen from the corner of his eyes. After a while, he places his mug down and turns to him slightly.

“Lan Xichen, wasn't it?”

Xichen nods. “Yes. My birth name is Lan Huan.”

There is a slightly twitch in his eyebrows. Xichen is used to the reactions some people get when they realise him and his brother still use courtesy names. Now that it is rare for anyone in modern society to have one, they ought to stop using them, but it is a difficult habit to drop and the change isn't necessary. With their long hair and tendency to be... out of touch with modern behaviour, most simply assume the two brothers are old fashioned.

Jiang Cheng nods. He hesitates for a second before offering his hand. “I'm Jiang Cheng.”

Xichen stares down at his outstretched hand for a bit. He takes it, and they do an awkward handshake wherein Jiang Cheng's frown makes this slightly worse and Xichen tries his best to keep his amused smile to himself.

The officer's hand is softer than he expects. Jiang Cheng is the first to pull away, averting his eyes down at his empty mug.

“I still think you took the sword,” he mutters.

Xichen nearly rolls his eyes. He has been around Jin Ling for too long today.

“Believe what you like, Officer.”

 

- x -

 

Wei Ying's eyes keep darting to the clock. He's been pacing on this same spot for over fifteen minutes. At this point, he's going to wear a hole through this floor and fall through it. The good thing about that is that if he breaks a few bones, this dinner can be cancelled for a good reason and maybe he'll stop being anxious for nothing.

“What do you mean you're not sure about this?” Wen Qing says over the phone.

“I don't even want dinner with him! You made me accept!”

“You were practically a tomato on that table! You never blush!”

Wei Ying shakes his head. All this pacing is making him dizzy. He sits down and looks up at the clock for the hundredth time this afternoon.

“Do you know how much I ran just to find you guys?” he says. He practically tore through the entire city in less than five minutes to find them in that café!

“Oh, please.”

He hears Wen Qing sighing. She's probably rolling her eyes right now too.

“Do you really not want to go to this dinner?”

Her voice is softer. It makes Wei Ying sigh because that tone calls for a serious conversation and he doesn't know his thoughts enough to explain them.

It's not that he doesn't like Lan Zhan. He's a nice guy and there's also the added bonus that he's annoyingly attractive. Unlike previous guys he's dated before, Lan Zhan actually looks like he's not a dick. Yeah, he might be quiet and conversations with him sometimes feel like a funeral, but it's not as if Wei Ying hates being around him. If anything, he likes it. There, he'll admit he likes being around the guy—but he doesn't like that.

He doesn't need that.

“I mean... He's a nice guy, he really is,” Wei Ying mumbles. “But I don't want anything more, Wen Qing. I don't want to lead him on either.”

He really shouldn't have started texting him. He thought it wouldn't do any harm, but now that it's obvious everyone and their mother is apparently trying to get them together, Wei Ying is worried Lan Zhan might expect something from this.

“I'm happy you're trying so hard to get me laid but I don't want this,” Wei Ying continues. “I'm perfectly fine by myself.”

Wen Qing sighs again. “But you're still going tonight?”

“Well... I already said yes... Should I cancel?”

“No, at least give him a chance. Or see how tonight goes.”

Wei Ying falls silent. It's quarter to five. If he cancels now then he's going to feel like a dick for doing it last minute. Lan Zhan would have probably cooked dinner by now as well. Damn, why did he even agree to this in the first place? Food is nice, yeah, but this stress isn't!

“Listen,” Wen Qing continues. “Just forget about everything tonight and enjoy yourself, okay? You said yourself the guy is nice.”

What if he's too nice? Wei Ying almost asks. What if he enjoys himself too much? Then what?

“He is...” Wei Ying mumbles.

“Just see how you feel after tonight. And then if you really don't want anything more then I'll back off as well.”

He lets out a groan. He's fighting a losing battle here. “Fine, fine.”

“Tell me how it goes. If you don't want him then I'll introduce him to A-Ning.”

Wei Ying has to laugh at that. He'd like to see that. Lan Zhan doesn't talk and Wen Ning can barely talk. How will that even work?

His phone vibrates. He looks at the screen and sees Lan Zhan texting that he's already outside. Shit. Guess he really can't cancel the date now.

Dinner. Not date.

“He's outside,” Wei Ying tells Wen Qing. “I gotta go.”

“Have fun. Tell me how it goes later!”

“I will, I will.”

Before he leaves, Wei Ying checks himself in the mirror. He didn't want to look like he was putting too much effort in an outfit so he just chose to wear another black turtle neck jumper with jeans. Now that he thinks about it, maybe he looks too dreary wearing black. Should he have worn more colour instead? What if Lan Zhan is all formal and he's here wearing jeans? Should he tie his hair up? He's left it loose for tonight, but it's doing that thing where it's sticking up everywhere no matter how many times Wei Ying tries to tidy it.

Fuck, why is he even worrying about this? He sends his own reflection a frown.

Well, at least these jeans makes his ass look good.

He grabs his coat and leaves, wishing tonight will go by without any problems. He'll go there, eat dinner, make nice conversation with Lan Zhan, and then leave. And that's it. No more flirting or going on more dinners. That's it.

Lan Zhan's white car is as spotless as ever in the car park. Wei Ying wraps his coat around himself and runs over, shivering. Before he reaches it, Lan Zhan gets out of the car, opening his door for him.

Shit, he isn't even wearing a coat! Isn't he freezing?

He flashes the taller man a quick smile before diving inside, his whole body trembling from the cold.

Lan Zhan is only wearing a light blue shirt and black trousers. He has a blazer on as well, but it doesn't look thick enough for this weather.

“Hello, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says as he gets in the car. “Aren't you cold?”

Lan Zhan shakes his head, starting the engine. His hair is loose for once and Wei Ying takes a moment to see just how long it is. For its length, it looks really soft and smooth... and nice. He pulls off the whole I-just-stepped-out-of-Ancient-China look very well.

The drive to Lan Zhan's house is quiet. Too quiet. Wei Ying is too busy repeating Wen Qing's words in his head. Just enjoy tonight... Stop worrying over everything....

He stares out of the window, having only just realised that the houses they're driving past are getting bigger and bigger. Wei Ying has never been to this part of the city before. This neighbourhood makes Burial Complex look like a cemetery—more so than usual.

They finally stop outside of a house. It looks similar to the other ones around it, though that doesn't make it any less impressive. From how big it is, Wei Ying guesses it's at least three stories high. The front garden is probably larger than Wei Ying's living room and kitchen put together. Despite the season, he can still see flowers standing tall and bright; there are rose bushes that are neatly trimmed in shape and even a little bird fountain surrounded by ivy.

“Wow,” Wei Ying breathes, stepping out. He should have expected Lan Zhan would live in a nice house, but he didn't expect how nice.

And this is just the outside! As soon as he steps inside, Wei Ying feels bad for even taking his shoes off. He should have worn cleaner ones; just leaving them there on the floor is making him feel bad.

He's surprised at how the interior looks very sleek and modern. The floor itself is a creamy marble, without a single speck of dirt or dust on it at all. It's so clean Wei Ying can literally see his reflection. The walls are white, and a lot of the furniture has a silver or glass theme to it, making everything look so shiny. From what he can see, everything is monochrome. There doesn't seem to be any furniture that isn't black or white, or something in between. The only spot of colour he can find are the plants that hang on the walls, or the flower vases on the tables.

The house isn't huge—but it's big and expensive looking enough for Wei Ying to feel out of place.

“It's just you and Sizhui living here?” he asks, turning to Lan Zhan. The smell of sandalwood is strong in this house. Wei Ying takes a deep breath.

Lan Zhan nods. He slips off his blazer, smoothing down the non-existent creases on his shirt.

“Yes,” he says. “He is not here now though.”

“Oh. Where is he?”

“With my brother.”

So that means he's alone here with Lan Zhan? Well, great. Wei Ying grits his teeth and nods slowly. This is only dinner. They're just going to eat and talk and then he can forget about all of this by tomorrow. Nothing to worry about! Nothing!

“So, Lan Zhan, what have you got for dinner?” Wei Ying asks. “You know, I specifically didn't eat anything today just for this.”

He receives a frown. “That is not healthy.”

Sometimes, talking to Lan Zhan makes him feel like Lan Zhan is the teacher, not him. He lets out a quick laugh and pats the taller man on the arm.

“Better feed me then.”

Lan Zhan nods. “I will lay out the table then.”

Wei Ying follows him, his eyes travelling around the large house. It really does look empty with just him and Lan Zhan here. He wonders what living here with the silent man must feel like. Sizhui doesn't strike him as a talkative person either; this must be a very quiet house with just the two of them.

“Here, let me help,” Wei Ying says. “Where are your plates and chopsticks?”

Lan Zhan points to a cupboard in the kitchen. Wei Ying does his best not to drop any of his fancy plates. One plate is probably more expensive than his groceries for one week. He lays out all of the plates and bowls, watching when Lan Zhan slowly fills the entire table with an assortment of food.

There's so much; from soup, congee, vegetables, beef, tofu... Wei Ying sees a plate of sea bass with ginger and spring onions, and... is that chilli he smells? In another bowl, there is crispy chicken on a bed of red and green peppers. When he takes a closer look, he spots chilli flakes sprinkled on the chicken and the sauce. Egg fried rice, steamed wontons, bowls and bowls of different vegetables...

Is Lan Zhan feeding an army?

“Wow, you cooked so much. Are you sure this is enough?” Wei Ying laughs. It all smells so good though. He's glad he barely ate anything today.

“You said you have not eaten all day,” Lan Zhan says, sitting down.

Wei Ying sits opposite him, still eyeing everything on the table. He doesn't think he's ever sat in front of so much food.

“Even I don't think I'm this hungry—but this does look good. Part of me expected you'd give me a salad or something.”

Lan Zhan lifts a drink to his lips. Wei Ying catches the faintest sight of a smile behind the glass.

He doesn't know where to start eating. He sips a bit of the soup and sighs at the warmth that travels down his throat. That tastes good! It's especially nice after he almost froze outside. He takes more sips, still deciding what to add on his plate first.

His eyes land on the chicken with all the chilli.

“Spicy!” Wei Ying comments as soon as he bites into one, eyes widening at the sudden heat that explodes in his mouth. He takes another bite.

Lan Zhan's gaze is fixed on him, watching his every reaction. He tries the other bowls, picking up some beef with his chopsticks.

“Nice. Oh, this is spicy too! Do you like spicy food, Lan Zhan?”

“...Yes.”

Even as he says that, Wei Ying notices he doesn't touch any of the meat on the table. He sticks to all of the vegetables or the tofu, quietly eating each one. Compared to Wei Ying, who is shoving everything down in throat, Lan Zhan is the very picture of beauty and grace.

Looking up, Wei Ying wipes his mouth with a napkin. “You and Sizhui came from London, right? Were you a music tutor there too?”

Lan Zhan shakes his head. “I was a university tutor for a few years.”

Okay, well that explains why he acts more like a teacher than Wei Ying does.

“I always knew you looked like a teacher. What did you teach?”

“History.”

Wei Ying expected something like math or music, but history works too. Lan Zhan literally looks like he's part of history anyway.

He continues to look at the silent man, wanting to ask more questions though also knowing he shouldn't get too ahead of himself. Everything about this man is so contradictory and it frustrates Wei Ying that his natural reaction to it is curiosity. The way Lan Zhan acts; it's almost as if he knows Wei Ying, and yet he maintains enough distance for the teacher to think he's just being paranoid.

Lan Zhan is quiet and likes to keep to himself, and yet he's always offering to help Wei Ying.

Maybe he's just friendly?

Maybe. But something tells Wei Ying that's not the case.

“What made you adopt Sizhui, if you don't mind me asking?” he asks, hoping the question isn't too personal.

Fortunately, Lan Zhan's face doesn't change. “I found him abandoned in the streets. He was only five.”

Wei Ying nearly drops his chopsticks. “Oh, wow. That's horrible.”

“Hmm.”

He thinks back to the polite student, how every morning he'd greet Wei Ying with a large smile and tell him he hopes he has a nice day. It's a shame his real parents did not appreciate such a nice child.

“Does he... Does he know?” Wei Ying asks. “That you're not his real dad?”

Lan Zhan nods.

“Ah, okay. He's such a nice, happy kid. I would have never known. You raised him up very well, Lan Zhan.”

Wei Ying flashes Lan Zhan a genuine smile, but he doesn't even notice. He's staring down at his food, lips pressed together.

“What's with that look?”

“He... becomes lonely.”

“Lonely?”

Lan Zhan averts his eyes back to Wei Ying. “We move a lot. Cannot stay in one place for too long.”

“Why's that?”

All the other man does is shake his head. He doesn't answer the question, instead reaching across the table for some more vegetables. Silently, Wei Ying watches him take a bite out of the lotus roots.

He frowns. Was his question too personal? What on earth could be the reason for why they had to move around a lot?

“Well, he's... what, fifteen now?” Wei Ying continues, trying not to think too much on why Lan Zhan didn't answer. “Three years on and he'll probably be going to university or something.”

It's an attempt to comfort the other man, but Wei Ying winces at how useless it is. Basically, he's saying Don't worry about your son being lonely; he's going to leave you soon anyway!

Idiot!

“Hmm,” is all Lan Zhan responds with.

Hmm, you're an idiot, Wei Ying.

“You said you were born in Yunmeng,” Lan Zhan says. Wei Ying is glad for the subject change.

“Yeah, and then moved here.”

“You have always lived here?”

“Pretty much. I spent some time in America in my twenties... Didn't like it much so I moved back here.”

It's half the truth. He only went to America because he wanted to see how Yanli was doing. He got to the entrance of the hospital and asked himself if he really deserved to see her, after everything he did.

The answer was no. Wei Ying turned back around, spending the rest of his days drinking and letting strangers help him forget about how stupid he was for even going to America in the first place. He stayed there for almost a year until the loneliness got too much. It also didn't feel right being that close to Yanli. He felt he needed to stay away. It was the least he could do.

“Tell me... about yourself.”

Wei Ying raises an eyebrow. “Eh? Me?”

“Yes.”

“Uh...” Wei Ying puts his chopsticks down, scratching his head. “Well, my birthday is on Halloween... I'm thirty-three years old. Uh, I like spicy food as you can tell.”

Lan Zhan nods. The expression he has on his face looks like he's expecting more.

Unfortunately for him, Wei Ying's brain has gone blank. “I don't really know. There's nothing interesting about me, Lan Zhan.”

“Wrong.”

How do you know that?

Wei Ying breaks eye contact, feeling his cheeks heat up. Lan Zhan's gaze is too heavy on him and he doesn't know how to respond to that. They barely know each other; why is he so eager to know more about him? He's really not that interesting at all.

He can't say he's not flattered, because he is, but most of all he's confused.

“Um.” Wei Ying racks his brains for anything. “I... don't remember my real parents much.”

“Why?”

“There... was a burglar attack at our house when I was six. They were killed.”

This is certainly a bright conversation. He could have chosen anything to tell Lan Zhan and he decides to go for this.

“I am sorry,” Lan Zhan says.

Wei Ying shrugs. He reaches for one of the steamed wontons and pops it into his mouth. “Like I said, I don't remember them so... it doesn't really hurt if you don't have any memories to miss.”

“You... are adopted too?”

The wonton becomes hard to swallow. He winces, wiping his mouth. “I, uh, was. My, um, adopted parents... They passed away as well.”

Unlike his real parents, he remembers that. If only he didn't.

“I see.”

Wei Ying forces out a laugh. “I guess you can say I'm cursed.”

“You are not.”

You don't know that.

Lan Zhan is only being polite. Would he still say the same things if he actually found out what Wei Ying did? Would he still be here, having dinner with him?

“Anyway,” Wei Ying says. It's his fault for bringing up the subject of his own parents. Don't bring up personal topics if you're going to regret it after.

“How about you, Lan Zhan? Tell me about yourself—actually, how old are you?”

He must be older than him, though he doesn't look much older. Maybe just a couple of years.

Lan Zhan doesn't answer straight away. He stares at a bowl of tofu, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

A minute passes and he still doesn't say anything.

Wei Ying blinks. “Why do you look like you've literally forgotten your own age?”

“Thirty... three. Or thirty five.”

“How is there a two year gap?” Wei Ying asks, laughing. “You're not even that old to forget your own age. Silly, silly Lan Zhan.”

He stares at the man sat opposite him. There's a timeless quality about him; you could say he was twenty five or forty and Wei Ying would believe either of it. While Lan Zhan didn't have any wrinkles or any blemishes on his skin at all, the way he presented himself made him look much, much older.

“Do you have family living here?”

“Our parents died a long time ago,” Lan Zhan says. He has stopped eating now, leaning back on the chair and staring at Wei Ying as well. “We have an uncle. Jingyi's grandfather.”

There is no change in his expression or his voice when he talks about his parents passing away. It really must have been a long time ago then.

Wei Ying nods, suddenly remembering something. “Your brother. Are you two twins or something?”

A shake of the head. “He is older by three years.”

Three years? Wei Ying could have sworn those two looked like mirror reflections when he met Lan Zhan's brother.

“You two literally look the same...” he mumbles, eyes trailing to the last piece of chicken in the bowl. “Hm, are you gonna eat that?”

Another shake of the head.

Happily, Wei Ying eats the last piece of chicken, patting his stomach when he's done. They actually managed to clear all of the plates. Wei Ying must have been more hungry than he thought, and it helped the food was so good.

He helps Lan Zhan clear the table, insisting he can bring all of the plates to the kitchen. Lan Zhan has already started to wash them at the sink when Wei Ying strides over to him, grabbing one of the glasses in his hand.

“Let me help with washing up,” he says. “It's the least I can do.”

Lan Zhan says nothing. He takes one step to the right, allowing Wei Ying to stand beside him in front of the sink. They wash the dishes together, and Wei Ying is suddenly very aware of how close they stood like this. Sometimes, they'll bump elbows and mutter apologies to each other. Still, neither move away.

Isn't this a bit too much like those movies where the couple do domestic shit together?

Wei Ying bites his bottom lip. No, he's over-thinking. He's just being polite. Lan Zhan went through all this trouble cooking for him; he should at least help with washing up!

He reaches for the last dish.

Lan Zhan has the same idea.

Their hands touch—and fuck, this really is a romcom movie!

Wei Ying flinches, snatching his hand back as if it burnt. He looks away, cheeks flushing, and forces out a laugh that sounds more like he's choking.

“S-Sorry,” he mutters, watching as Lan Zhan cleans the last dish.

His hands are slender and graceful, even when doing something trivial such as this. It's kind of annoying.

As soon as they're done, Wei Ying looks at the time on his phone. Over an hour has already passed. He should really go. They never really planned anything after dinner and there's no way Wei Ying wants anything more. Lan Zhan probably wants to rest after all this anyway...

He turns to the older man, taking a deep breath.

And then something fluffy catches his eye.

Frowning, Wei Ying walks closer, squatting down. It's a bunny. There's a white bunny on the floor.

Aaw, what the fuck?

Wei Ying is so overcome by how fluffy and cute it is that he forgets about leaving. He slowly reaches for the bundle of fluff—but it hops away before he can touch it.

He stands up, laughing as he follows the small thing. Keeping a bunny is the last thing Wei Ying expected from someone like Lan Zhan.

The white rabbit leads him into another room. As soon as he steps inside, Wei Ying's jaw drops.

There's a whole group of them! It's a room just for rabbits! Fences are placed around the room, creating something that resembles both a rabbit pen and a maze. Around the pen, Wei Ying sees fresh vegetables and small toys laying around. He quickly counts how many bunnies he can see; three white ones and three black ones.

Shocked, Wei Ying turns around. Lan Zhan has followed him into the room, face still empty. He strides over to one of the rabbits on the floor and kneels down, taking it into his lap. The little black rabbit nuzzles its nose against his hand, letting him stroke it.

Oh no, Wei Ying thinks. That's cute.

Lan Zhan has hit him with his weakness: fluffy animals (NOT dogs).

He sits down beside Lan Zhan, grinning as more rabbits hop over to them. Most of them group around Lan Zhan, jumping onto his lap while some even nudge Wei Ying's leg. He gently takes one of the white rabbits into his arms, stroking its soft ears. Rabbits don't usually like being held but these ones seem perfectly fine with it.

“Lan Zhan, you didn't tell me you had a bunch of rabbits,” Wei Ying says. “They're so cute!”

Lan Zhan makes a content noise. While his face is as deadpan as ever, there's a gentleness in his eyes that makes Wei Ying's chest feel all warm. He looks down at the rabbit on his lap and continues to rub its ear.

It wiggles in his arms, jumping out. Wei Ying raises as eyebrow, watching as it hops out the room. These things are so active; it's a miracle Lan Zhan's house stays neat and clean.

Sighing, he stands up and decides to follow it. The next room he steps in is much bigger. At the end of it stands a large black piano, which he guesses is where Lan Zhan must teach Jingyi for his lessons. But that's not the only thing in this room. Wei Ying also sees other instruments; there's a harp on the left corner, a violin stand near him, a flute...

What catches his eye the most is the guqin in the centre of the room. He slowly approaches it, running his eyes over the ebony black surface and the seven strings. His breath hitches. He can almost hear the sound it makes without it needing to be played. He's seen this before.

But where?

Wei Ying breathes in. His breath comes out shaky.

“You can play the guqin?” he asks Lan Zhan, turning to him.

Lan Zhan's golden eyes feel like they're burning. He nods once.

“Play for me,” Wei Ying says. He sits down in front of the guqin, tempted to stroke a finger along it, to see if it would feel familiar too.

The white rabbit from earlier comes back, settling onto Wei Ying's lap. He rubs it again, watching Lan Zhan kneeling down in front of the guqin. When Wei Ying breathes, the smell of sandalwood and rain is stronger, closer. It's Lan Zhan's scent, he realises now, and he's everywhere.

Then, he starts playing.

It's the same song he played to Wei Ying over the phone. On the guqin, the notes echo and reverberate through this room. Each strum shakes the teacher and everything shudders in silence until it's followed by another note, and another. It's much different played on the guqin, it's much different played here. All Wei Ying can do is stare at Lan Zhan while he plays, eyes closed, stroking the guqin as he always has.

Wei Ying freezes.

As... he always has?

Lan Zhan opens his eyes.

Wei Ying swallows the lump in his throat. The room feels hotter, hallow. He struggles to breathe and it's like there's this sudden fever coursing through his body. The music room is gone. He's frozen on the spot, unable to look around, but Lan Zhan is in front of him in white robes and a ribbon around his head.

“Wei Ying.”

Once he blinks, Lan Zhan is back to wearing his shirt and jeans. His golden eyes are boring straight through him.

“Lan... Zhan,” Wei Ying says. “Have we... Have we met before?”

The music stops. Lan Zhan's eyes are wide.

He grabs Wei Ying's wrist.

Something flashes. Wei Ying blinks and sees a spectrum of images.

It’s Emperor’s Smile! If I share a jar with you, can you pretend that you never saw me?

The moon is large, and this man's robes are brighter than the light it gives off. His eyes are cold, the sword in his hand glinting as he points it towards him.

Time rushes faster than their duel. They sit in a study, with papers and papers scattered around them. The man refuses to talk, not even when Wei Ying repeats his name again. Again.

Let me ask you a question. Do you… really hate me that much?

Those golden eyes are brighter and alive, burning with an anger that screams over his silence.

Get lost!

His voice breaks the reverie. The images shatter. Wei Ying flinches, snatching his hand away. He blinks and blinks, and they're back in the music room.

He stands up, stumbling over his own feet. Lan Zhan reaches out to steady him, but Wei Ying is quick to push him away. The rabbit on his lap has now scurried off.

What happened? What happened?

It's hard to breathe. His thoughts are circling around and around, and he's losing grasp of the past few minutes. He remembers the music... He remembers Lan Zhan staring at him... but what were those things he saw? Flashbacks? Hallucinations? What the fuck is happening to him?

“Wei Ying.”

He clutches his head. “S-Sorry, I don't... I don't know what came over me.”

Lan Zhan walks around the guqin, closer to him. Wei Ying needs space. He needs to breathe.

“What happened?”

Wei Ying ignores him. He turns around and all he can see is the door. He wants to leave. He needs to leave.

“Wei Ying.”

“Don't worry,” he forces out. “I'm fine. I should go.”

A hand closes around his wrist before he can walk out of the door. It's warm, soft, and Wei Ying can do nothing but tremble and wish he would let him go.

“Wait,” Lan Zhan says.

“I don't want to waste any more of your time, Lan Zhan.”

The hand tightens. “Stay.”

When Wei Ying looks over his shoulder, Lan Zhan's gaze is intense. He's shaking just as much as Wei Ying is.

Wei Ying slips his hand out of Lan Zhan's grip. “I'm... I'm not staying.”

He takes a step back, The distance between them finally allows him to think.

He doesn't know who Lan Zhan is, or what he wants. If he stares at him for long enough, Wei Ying's eyes blur and it's replaced by a figure of a man in white robes, eyes that hold nothing but hatred for him.

He doesn't know want to know who Lan Zhan is.

“I... I don't know what you expect from me, but I... I don't want... anything more,” Wei Ying says. “Okay?”

Lan Zhan's lips part. There are no words that come out of him.

“I'm sorry if you expected more,” Wei Ying continues. “But I'm not looking for that. I don't want to lead you on.”

Wei Ying does not miss the way Lan Zhan's fists clench. Shaking.

Why? Why?

Why is he like this? Why does he look like he cares so much?

There's nothing going on between them. They haven't known each other long enough for Lan Zhan to care.

“Are you... I'm... I'm really sorry,” Wei Ying says. “This is why I didn't want Wen Qing to talk to you in case she said something—”

Lan Zhan nods, looking away. “It is fine. If that is what you want.”

“Yes. Yes, it's... it's for the best.” Wei Ying nods back. He should go. He needs to go. “I'll... I'll walk back. Evening walks are nice, anyway.”

It's a lie. He doesn't know his way back and he'll probably end up calling a taxi, but he needs to go.

Lan Zhan nods again. It seems that's all they can do now.

He leads Wei Ying back to the entrance, handing his coat to him. They make sure not to brush hands.

“Thank you for tonight, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“You too.”

They remain there for a second too long, staring at each other. Wei Ying's foot is almost out of the door, every part of him wanting to leave and never turn back.

“I'll... see you around school,” Wei Ying says. The smile he gives is barely a smile at all.

He leaves before Lan Zhan can respond, stepping out into the cold. He walks and walks, ignoring the breeze that bites him. Even as he reaches the end of the street, he knows Lan Zhan still hasn't closed the door, not until he's out of sight.

It's pitch black outside now. Above him, there are barely any stars, and the moon is a slither of white in the void. He should call a taxi before he gets lost, but he doesn't. He keeps walking, not knowing where to go, not knowing what to do.

What happened back there? What's happening to him? Who is Lan Zhan? Why does he feel so familiar?

He's just tired. This is nothing. This is nothing, and tomorrow he'll be fine and he'll tell Wen Qing to stop pestering him about Lan Zhan. Tomorrow, he'll go back to not bothering with any of these dates and everything will be just as it used to be.

He walks until he can no longer feel the cold. He walks until there are no more houses and the path has turned thin. There is a forest before him, darkness staring back.

Finally, he stops.

There's someone.

A woman emerges from the forest, eyes as dark as the shadows that engulf the trees. Her walk is slow, too slow. She wears all white, and it makes her skin look paler. There's something ghostly about her, something inhuman, and Wei Ying is not sure why he is still standing here staring back.

When she speaks, her voice is everywhere. It does not come from her. It speaks through the air that sends goosebumps up his arms. It speaks through the trees that sway in the darkness. It speaks through the moon covered in the mist.

“You have been given a second chance after all these years. Still, you choose to squander it.”

Wei Ying shudders. “What?”

He blinks, and she is gone. He whirls around, checking the darkness around him to see where she has disappeared. There is nothing. No rustle of sound, no movement of trees. The only thing he can hear is the sickening rampage of his pulse.

He is alone.

Was it real? Is he seeing things? Shaking, he wraps his arms around himself and backs away from the forest. His eyes dart everywhere, unable to shake off the feeling he is being watched.

It is not long until he finally calls a taxi. Even when he stumbles back into the safe confines of his own apartment, Wei Ying cannot bring himself to turn off the lights. He closes all of the curtains and double checks to make sure the locks are in place.

After two hours of staring wide eyed at the ceiling, he falls asleep. In his dreams, he sees golden eyes piercing through him. There's nothing but anger and disdain in those eyes. This man, whoever he is, hates Wei Ying down to the very core of his soul.