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Chapter Text

It was three months after Wei Wuxian’s initial disappearance that Lan Wangji finally took up Jiang Yanli’s invitation to come to a… meeting. 

He wouldn’t have gone if it wasn’t for the promise he had made to his brother. Once you’re not grounded , Lan Xichen had said , make sure you get outside at least once a week . 

He wasn’t grounded, not any more. Their uncle had only confined him to his own apartment for three months, apparently sufficient punishment for making a fuss when Wei Wuxian had vanished.  

It only irked him slightly that his uncle still had such control over his life, even at twenty-two. He didn’t have much room left in himself for annoyance or anger. He was a being made of grief and worry. 

The small cafe had set up a long table in the middle of their floorspace, and Lan Wangji made his way over to it, biting back the fresh sorrow in his heart when he recognised most of Wei Wuxian’s friends and family sitting around it. 

Jiang Yanli broke into a bright smile as he entered. “I hoped you’d come!”

Lan Wangji nodded to her, stiff. 

These were Wei Wuxian’s friends and family, but he’d never really talked to most of them before. Still, they seemed to recognise him. 

“Lan Wangji?” a girl he didn’t recognise said. “I heard a lot about you. You’re his Lan Zhan, right?”

Lan Wangji’s eyes widened. “Yes. You… you did? I don’t know you.”

“Luo Qingyang,” she said, holding out a hand. “Wei Wuxian called me Mianmian.”

“He talked about you,” Lan Wangji told her, taking the offered hand and shaking it. “He said you were the best lab partner he’d ever had.”

Mianmian snorted. “He only ever said that after I managed to fix up one of his fuck-ups.”

Jiang Wanyin, fists clenched in the pretty blue tablecloth, scoffed. “I bet he made a lot of those.”

Lan Wangji could feel his nails biting into his palms. The thing was, Wei Wuxian would have made mistakes that needed cleaning up, which meant that no matter how much he wanted to, there was no way Lan Wangji could defend him without breaking his own principles. 

A man sitting at the other end of the table, dressed in white, smiled brightly. “Hello, Lan Wangji! I’m Xiao Xingchen, and this -” he gestured to the man in black beside him - “is my boyfriend, Song Lan. I was adopted by the same person who adopted Wei Wuxian’s mother, so we’re almost related.”

Lan Wangji nodded and greeted them. 

“I am… I am Wei Ying’s friend,” he told them. 

Jiang Wanyin snorted. “A-Cheng!” Jiang Yanli scolded. “Be nice to Lan Wangji.”

“At least don’t kid us about being his friend,” Jiang Wanyin said, and Lan Wangji felt something inside him cringe and curl up. He…

Well. Wei Wuxian likely hadn’t considered him much of a friend. That was okay. That was fine. 

“Still,” Jiang Wanyin continued, “I had hoped he’d have the general courtesy to introduce his boyfriend to his family, you know.”

Lan Wangji froze, halfway into a chair. “We -”

He took a deep, gulping breath. “We weren’t dating.”

“What the fuck,” Jiang Wanyin said. “Why not?”

Lan Wangji wasn’t sure if he was breathing. Jiang Yanli laid a hand on her brother’s shoulder. “A-Cheng, leave him be.”

Jiang Wanyin snorted. “Fine, fine, jiejie. I can understand why he didn’t want to date Wei Wuxian.”

Xiao Xingchen shook his head. “Jiang Cheng, that’s not it. Is it, Lan Wangji?”

Still feeling like he was listening through water, Lan Wangji shook his head. “I… he wouldn’t have wanted to.”

Jiang Cheng laughed, and even Luo Qingyang pressed a hand to her mouth as if to hide a smile. Nie Huaisang, who had up to that point been engrossed in his phone, looked up to shake his head, expression invisible behind the fan he carried with him. 

Jiang Yanli clapped her hands, bringing everyone’s attention to her. “What does everyone want to eat and drink?”

The waiter besides her frantically scribbled in his notebook as the group ordered. When it got to Lan Wangji’s turn, he just shook his head. Food had sat wrong in his stomach for three months.

Xiao Xingchen exchanged a glance with Song Lan. “Come on, Lan Wangji. At least get a drink.”

Lan Wangji shook his head again. 

“Green tea, perhaps?” Luo Qingyang asked. 

That wouldn’t be too bad. He could manage that. He nodded.

“Great!” Jiang Yanli said brightly, completing their order. The waiter scurried away. 

The conversation turned back to Wei Wuxian.

“It’s the Wens,” Jiang Cheng declared. “They had something over him, I know it.”

Lan Wangji thought back to all the times Wei Wuxian had arrived at his flat cold and shivering, a haunted look in his eyes. 

“Well,” Jiang Yanli reasoned, “that rules out going to any authorities.”

Lan Wanji agreed. Wen Zhuliu, adopted son of Wen Ruohan, the head of Wen Pharmaceutical Industries, was the chief of police. Nothing would actually happen.

Luo Qingyang put her phone down on the table. “Has anyone been able to reach him? It’s been three months. He might reply now.”

Jiang Yanli shook her head. “He won’t reply.”

The rest of the table said the same. Nie Huasiang tapped his fan against his nose. “I’ve asked around. No one can get him to contact them, but we do know he’s alive and out there somewhere.”

Something cold had made its home in Lan Wangji’s chest. He took a sip of green tea to try and burn it away. “He blocked my number,” he told them, quietly.

Jiang Yanli looked up. “Oh?”

“The day he left. I called so many times. Wei Ying never picked up. He blocked my number, eventually.”

“Interesting,” Xiao Xingchen remarked. He slid his phone across the table. “Try through mine.”

“What?”

“Just say it’s Lan Wangji and that we’re all worried about his stupid ass, or something,” Jiang Wanyin said. 

Lan Wangji nodded. 

“This is Lan Wangji,” he read out as he typed. “We are all worried. We just want to know that you are okay.”

Xiao Xingchen gave him an encouraging nod.

He hit send. 

It was marked ‘read’ almost immediately. He let out a shocked gasp. Jiang Yanli took the phone from his trembling fingers. “He read it!”

Nie Huaisang gave a brief cheer. “He’s okay, then!”

Jiang Yanli wore a watery smile. “He always read my messages at some point or another, but never as fast as this.” She held out her unlocked phone, and they all looked at the long list of unreplied-to “A-Xian”s and “I’m so worried”s. 

Jiang Cheng showed his message history too, his being filled with violent threats if Wei Wuxian didn’t immediately reappear. They, too, were all marked read, but there were no replies. 

“He’s typing!”

They waited, impatient, as the three dots appeared and disappeared several times over. Lan Wangji tried not to think about what Wei Wuxian would look like. He would likely be biting his lower lip, tapping one hand distractedly against one thigh as he thought about what to say. He’d be slouched over the nearest seat-shaped thing, perhaps a table, or a park bench. 

Lan Wangji couldn’t even bring himself to hate how well he could remember Wei Wuxian. He missed seeing him everywhere. 

And then -

The whole table slumped over as the small message appeared. “This number has blocked you.”

Lan Wangji could feel his expression fall. Wei Wuxian didn’t want to talk to any of them, but he didn’t want to talk to Lan Wangji most of all. 

Quick as a flash, Nie Huaisang brought his phone up and took a photo. 

Lan Wangji startled. 

“Thanks!” Nie Huaisang chirped. He turned his phone around to show them the photo, and Lan Wangji winced. 

He was pale and thin, slightly hunched over. And his face was devastated. He winced just to see it in the photo.

Nie Huaisang tapped the image a few times, texting to Wei Wuxian with the caption “now look what you’ve done by blocking him.”

“He’s replied to me a few times,” Nie Huaisang told them, conversationally. “I didn’t think that was particularly special. It’s probably just because he thought I wasn’t talking to you guys, though, so it’ll probably stop.”

“What do you know?”

Nie Huaisang tapped his fan against his chin. “Nothing much. He normally just responds with emojis when I send him memes. Once he said that he was hungry. That’s all.”

Wei Wuxian was hungry. Wei Wuxian was not eating enough. There was guilt and worry sitting low in Lan Wangji’s ribcage.

A reply appeared. “Hahah Nie-xiong. Nice photoshop,” Nie Huaisang read out to them. “I know you don’t talk to Lan Zhan.”

Nie Huaisang put his phone down and sighed. “See? He doesn’t think I actually talk to you guys.”

A wicked grin appeared on his face. “Video footage should convince him.” He lifted the phone again.

Lan Wangji panicked. “What - what do you want me to do?”

Nie Huaisang shrugged. “Say his name, if you want. That should get him to at least realise that I’m being serious.”

Lan Wangji took a deep breath. He nodded, and then swallowed. “Wei Ying,” he said, and then squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t do this. “I-”

Xiao Xingchen’s hand found its way to his shoulder. It was warm and grounding, and, unlike with most people, Lan Wangji didn’t feel an immediate compulsion to shrug it off. 

“That’s enough,” Song Lan said, lowly, and Nie Huaisang lowered the phone. 

He bit his lip. “Sorry,” he offered, eventually. “I shouldn’t have pushed.”

Lan Wangji shook his head. “It is okay. I should not -”

Xiao Xingchen’s hand tightened on his shoulder. “No. You should. You aren’t wrong to feel like this.”

Lan Wangji took in a deep, shuddering breath. He drank another small cup of green tea. “I’m going to go home,” he decided. He met Jiang Yanli’s concerned gaze. “Should I come to the next meeting?”

Jiang Yanli smiled. “If you want to. I’ll text you the time and place.”

Lan Wangji nodded. “You can… send that, if you think it will do anything,” he said. He hated how he knew he would look - broken apart and broken down. But Wei Wuxian’s friends had seen it, and he could never truly hide from Wei Wuxian. He would never even try, as long as Wei Wuxian was willing to look. 

Lan Wangji left, the door swinging closed behind him.

Nie Huaisang stared at his phone. “Should I send it?” he asked, worrying at his bottom lip.

The group exchanged looks. 

Xiao Xingchen squeezed Song Lan’s hand in his own. “He looked like you do sometimes,” he whispered into his boyfriend’s ear. Song Lan took a sharp inhale. 

Jiang Yanli set down her cutlery. She no longer had an appetite. “Do you think it’ll make him think, at least?”

The group nodded. It would certainly do that. 

Nie Huaisang’s fingers flew over his phone. 

Nie Huaisang:
look. he said i could send something, but im not sure i should. 

it’s proof i didn’t photoshop that

Wei Wuxian:
fuck

youre actually with lan zhan?

Nie Huaisang:
he just left actually

Wei Wuxian:
you have no idea how much i wanna say yes

bc like

lan zhans face

but

if he looks sad

im gonna want to come back

and i cant

i cant do that yet

a-sang trust me

i wanna go home but i can’t, not yet

Nie Huaisang bit his lip. “That’s the most I’ve heard from him, ever,” he told the room, and then held up the phone. 

Jiang Yanli took in a sharp breath. Jiang Cheng scraped angrily at his eyes. “He’s okay,” they said, at the same time. 

“When?” Mianmian demanded. “When will he come back?”

Nie Huaisang typed that out. 

“Six months,” he told them. “He said he’d be back in six months.”

“Does he want the Lan Wangji video?”

Nie Huaisang’s fingers tightened on his phone.

Nie Huaisang:
do you want the lan wangji thing?

bc if not i’m gonna delete it

hes normally so emotionless that it feels
bad to even have this on my phone

They waited with bated breath as the three dots appeared and disappeared for several minutes. Eventually -

Wei Wuxian:
if it makes /you/ feel guilty for having it,
its probs really sad. and. and idk if i
can deal with that. so. no. just delete
it. and if you see him again tell him

tell him im ok. im remembering to
eat and sleep and everything. he
shouldnt worry about me

Nie Huaisang:
nothing more?

no dramatic confessions?

did you know jiang cheng thought
you and lan wangji were together?

Wei Wuxian:
wtf no

pls tell my brother that I would
mention something like that

he’s too good for me anyway

Nie Huaisang:
so nothing more?

Wei Wuxian:
ugh

fuck you

tell him thank you and sorry

Nie Huaisang:
that’s it?????

Wei Wuxian:
sorry for not living up to the standards
of your teledramas and novels, huaisang

fine

tell him i miss him

Nie Huaisang grinned. “Victory!”

He spun the phone around to show the rest of the table what had occurred. 

“Six months,” Jiang Yanli breathed. “He’ll come home in six months.”

Mianmian put down her empty coffee mug. “Six months? I’ve got to find a new lab partner for six months?”

More messages came through.

Wei Wuxian:
i was prepared for jiejie and jiang cheng
and you and xiao xingchen and even
mianmian to miss me or be angry

i was not prepared for lan zhan to even care

and if i keep listening to you all worrying
im gonna fuck up what im doing and i cant
afford to do that. so.

goodbye a-sang

i’ll miss you all.

“No!” Nie Huaisang said as his phone told him that Wei Wuxian had blocked him. Mirroring shouts of dismay came from around the table as they pulled out their phones to find the same. 

Jiang Yanli stared at her phone, brushing a tear from her face. “I’ll… I’ll add Lan Wangji to the group chat and let everyone know when and where we’ll be meeting again.”

Jiang Cheng shook his head. “Is there even a point, any more? We know he’s fine and that he doesn’t want to talk to us.”

Mianmian looked around the group. “I don’t know about you, but I’m going to want people to bitch to about life without Wei Wuxian.”

They all knew that that wasn’t exactly what she meant. Xiao Xingchen nodded. “It’ll be good to keep tabs with each other.”

The next time they met was a week later, for boba. Mianmian ordered the special, some kind of fruity tea with large, colourful pearls.

She slurped half of it in record speed, and then shook her head. “It doesn’t taste like anything.”

“Perhaps, Luo Qingyang,” Lan Wangji said, “you should actually give yourself time to taste it.”

Mianmian gaped, and then snorted. “I never believed him when he said you were funny! I take that back now.”

Lan Wangji gave a flicker of a smile, and then took a sip of his own tea. Six months, they had told him. Six months, and then Wei Wuxian would come home. 

“What instruments do you play again, Wangji?” Jiang Yanli asked him, a month later.

He took another bite of his subway before answering. “Guqin, piano, and violin. Why?”

She shook her head. “We need a classical Chinese musician at a function for the board members of YunmengJiang.”

Lan Wangji hummed. “I could play guqin, if you would like that.”

Her eyes lit up. “It’d just be for an hour or so. Are you sure you and your family wouldn’t mind?”

Lan Wangji considered that. “My uncle will be furious. Does that bother you?”

Jiang Cheng snorted. “Not really. Shouldn’t it bother you, though?”

He shook his head. “Not any more.”

“They’ll talk shit about Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng warned him.

He looked at the two siblings. “Then you’ll need all the support you can get, won’t you?”

Jiang Cheng:
im gonna go get roaring drunk.
anyone else in?

Xiao Xingchen:
Zichen and I will pass, thanks

Jiang Yanli:
sorry, I’m swamped with work atm

Nie Huaisang:
im in

Mianmian:
me too

Lan Wangji:
I can be designated driver, if you wish.

Mianmian:
really? thatd be great!

Nie Huaisang:
do you ever drink?

Lan Wangji:
Not if I can avoid it.

Mianmian:
wwx said you were an adorable drunk tho

Lan Wangji:
I wouldn’t know. I have no memory
of that night.

Nie Huaisang:
wow how much did you drink???

Lan Wangji:
Half a beer.

Nie Huaisang:
oh ok that would explain why your
brother never drinks when he’s
out with da-ge

is your whole family lightweights?

Lan Wangji:
Yes.

Jiang Cheng:
kinda wanna see lan qiren drunk

Nie Huaisang:
oh my god

Lan Wangji:
You would not be the first to wish such.

Mianmian:
you driving would save us all
a cab fare. you sure?

Lan Wangji:
Yes. 

Lan Wangji sighed, hiking Nie Huaisang up under his arm. “Try to walk properly.”

Nie Huaisang giggled. “But walking’s hard.”

Lan Wangji and Mianmian exchanged a glance. Jiang Cheng slumped on Mianmian’s shoulder. 

“Right,” she decided. “Time to get these two home.”

“I just… I miss him so much,” Nie Huaisang sobbed, suddenly. “Why’d he have to go?”

Lan Wangji tugged him upright once more. “Four and a half months left, Nie Huaisang. Then it’ll be nine months since he left, and he’ll come back.”

Mianmian pushed Jiang Cheng upright. “Come on, you soppy fools. We’re halfway there.”

Jiang Cheng scrunched his face up. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna break his legs when he comes back.” He nodded decisively. “Then he can’t leave again.”

Mianmian looked at Lan Wangji. “I’ll take him. Have you got A-Sang?”

Lan Wangji nodded, scooping an arm under the smaller man’s legs to lift him up. “I’ve got him.”

“Wooooo!” Nie Huaisang said. “You’re tall!” He patted Lan Wangji on the head.

Lan Wangji suppressed a fond smile. “I am not as tall as your brother,” he informed Nie Huaisang.

“No one’s as tall as da-ge. But da-ge never carries me. You’re a good friend!”

Lan Wangji froze.

“We’re friends?” he asked Mianmian.

She snorted. “Of course we’re friends. We go out for lunch once a week and when we get drunk you drive us home. I’m pretty sure that means we’re friends. Now get moving again.”

“But…”

“Lan Wangji. We’re friends. Shut up and accept that.”

She was slightly flushed, and looked almost embarrassed. 

Lan Wangji nodded. “Okay, Mianmian. We are friends.” He continued on his way to the car. 

“Shut up,” she grumbled, dragging Jiang Cheng behind her. 

Three months to go. Lan Wangji stood in Jiang Yanli’s kitchen, mixing cookie batter. 

“Are classes going well?” she asked.

“Hm. Yes.”

She smiled at him, handing him a packet of chocolate chips to mix into the batter. “Good! When are your exams?”

“Three weeks from now.”

They finished the batter in silence, moving around each other companionably. It was strange, Lan Wangji thought, how at peace he felt. There was a constant worry in the back of his mind, of course, but at times like this, he felt calm and relaxed. 

Jiang Yanli waved a hand at the interior of the apartment she shared with Jin Zixuan. It was large and spacious, modern and luxurious without quite being tacky. “If you need a change of space to help you study, you’re always welcome here.”

Lan Wangji nodded, and thanked her.

When there were about two months left before Wei Wuxian returned, the group chat exploded with messages.

Nie Huaisang:
men are trash. dont date them

Mianmian:
im lesbian sooo

what happened?

Nie Huaisang:
id been chatting to this guy

and he asked me out on a date

and then never showed up

Jiang Cheng:
ill break his fucking legs

Xiao Xingchen:
oh that’s awful. 

Lan Wangji:
I’m sorry that happened to you.

Mianmian:
do you wanna come to my place and eat
ice cream from a tub while watching bad
movies and bitching about guys?

Nie Huaisang:
that sounds. really good. can i?

Mianmian:
sure!

anyone else want in?

Jiang Yanli:
Can I? I need to destress.

Jiang Cheng:
same

Mianmian:
wow my place is tiny so

it’ll be a squeeze

but sure

Lan Wangji:
My place is larger, if you wish.

Mianmian:
afjkkfad really?

Lan Wangji:
Really. 

Mianmian:
ok i’ll bring icecream

Jiang Cheng:
i’ve got popcorn

Nie Huaisang:
ill bring my own tissues

Mianmian:
is half an hour ok?

Lan Wangji:
Yes.

Lan Wangji looked around his apartment, storing his shopping in its places in the fridge and cupboard. Everything was already clean. He grabbed all the blankets he owned from the hall cupboard and tossed them on to the couch. 

The floor was wooden, and the couch was designed to have food stains wipe off easily. He nodded, pleased, and turned the TV on, navigating to Netflix.

Ten minutes later, Mianmian arrived, three bags slung over her arm. She unloaded them in the kitchen. They contained six tubs of icecream, all different flavours. She shrugged. “I wasn’t sure what everyone would want.”

Lan Wangji pulled out five spoons.

Nie Huaisang arrived next, sniffling and carrying boxes of tissues. He looked around the house. “We’re gonna make this place so messy,” he told Lan Wangji. “Sorry in advance.”

He didn’t sound particularly sorry.

Mianmian snorted. “Take a second look, A-Sang. This place is actually Wei-Wuxian-proof.”

Nie Huaisang toed off his shoes as he scanned the apartment once more. Wooden floorboards, white walls, easy-to-clean couch. “Wow. You’re right.”

The Jiang siblings arrived at the same time, carrying snacks. Jiang Yanli wrapped Nie Huaisang up in a tight hug. 

Lan Wangji stood awkwardly as the others offered physical comfort. He’d known he wasn’t the best at that, and so he’d offered up his apartment space. It was the least he could do for the people he’d become close to over the past few months.

Nie Huaisang sniffed once more, and then declared “Fuck him! Let’s watch some action movies. I don’t want to have to think.”

Lan Wangji passed him the remote, and Nie Huaisang navigated to John Wick. “It’s pretty to look at,” he defended, and Mianmian snorted. 

Lan Wangji sat down on the couch. Nie Huaisang flug himself onto it too, curling up so his feet were almost touching Lan Wangji. When Mianmian approached, he moved so that she could sit, and then put his head on her thighs. 

Jiang Cheng snorted. “Where am I meant to sit?”

Jiang Yanli laughed. “A-Cheng, you and I can just sit on the floor. There’s plenty of blankets.”

The two of them sat with their backs to the couch as the movie started.

Lan Wangji was warm and fond, looking around as gunfire sounded from the speakers. None of them were quite touching him, respecting his personal space like they always did, but he didn’t feel separate. He felt included and happy, even as Nie Huaisang brushed tears from his eyes and cursed a man Lan Wangji didn’t know but was certain he would become familiar with over the course of the night. 

By the time the ice cream was nothing but liquid in the bottom of the tubs (or, in Jiang Cheng and Mianmian’s cases, the tubs were completely empty), they’d finished all the released John Wick movies. Huaisang grabbed the remote, throwing yet another tissue into the wastepaper bin Lan Wangji had relocated to beside the couch. 

“We’re gonna watch Heathers now,” he informed them, and Lan Wangji found himself introduced to an entirely new side of pop culture.

“Is… is that what public school is actually like?” he asked, and Mianmian laughed.

“Not really. I mean, just a little.”

Lan Wangji blinked at her, horrified. 

Nie Huaisang, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. “Dear diary, my teenage angst bullshit now has a body count,” he lipsynced with the tv. 

Mianmian laughed again, tossing her empty ice cream tub into the bin. “I’m glad we have this,” she said, tipping her head back into the chair and patting Nie Huaisang’s head gently. 

Lan Wangji agreed, wholeheartedly. 

When they fell asleep, partway through ‘The Breakfast Club’, Lan Wangji stood up to pull blankets more securely over all of them, and then went to his own bed. It was long past nine, and he was tired, but something in him was warm and soft with friendship.

When he woke at five, like always, he sat down at the piano and played the theme songs of the movies they’d watched, as best he could from memory. 

Mianmian woke around six, pushing Nie Huaisang’s head off her lap with a groan. “He drools,” she complained, and looked up to find Lan Wangji watching her with obvious amusement.

“How are you so fucking awake at six o’clock?” she groused.

He handed her a cup of coffee. “How do you like your eggs?”

Mianmian blinked. “Eggs?”

“Breakfast,” Lan Wangji explained. 

Mianmian shook her head. “You let us crash here overnight and now you’re gonna feed us?”

“Mm. You are my friends.”

“Wei Wuxian was right! You’re just too good. Fine. Fried is great.”

“Will you have bacon?”

“Fuck yes.”

He directed her to the bathroom to freshen up, and started their breakfast.

Jiang Cheng came awake to the smell of bacon. He sat up slowly, hand emerging from where it had slipped under his jacket when he had woken up in a strange place. He realized that while he’d fallen asleep leaning against the couch, he’d woken lying down, with a pillow and a blanket wrapped around him. “Wha -”

His remark broke off as he yawned, long and loudly. He looked around, spotting Jiang Yanli, mouth half-open into a pillow. He rubbed his eyes.

Lan Wangji offered him a plate of bacon and eggs. 

“What the fuck,” Jiang Cheng said, weakly. “How much did I drink?”

Emerging from the bathroom, Mianmian chuckled. “You’re not drunk. Just eat your breakfast, Jiang Cheng.”

She looked at Lan Wangji. “Where’d you get the bacon and eggs? Aren’t you vegetarian?”

He didn’t look at her. “Mn.” They really didn’t need to know that he’d gone shopping just in case they’d wanted breakfast beyond his normal simple rice congee. 

She went to poke Nie Huaisang in the shoulder. “Wake up, A-Sang. I know for a fact that you have work today.”

Nie Huaisang groaned. 

Jiang Yanli sat up and stretched. “Good morning! How are you all?”

“I hate morning people.” Mianmian told her.

Jiang Yanli just smiled, pushing the blankets off her to make her way into the kitchen. Lan Wangji joined her, dishing out the rest of the food.

“A-Sang’s still asleep,” Mianmian reported. 

Jiang Cheng snorted, halfway through his breakfast. “No he’s not. He’s just pretending.”

Mianmian poked him. His head lolled to the other side. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure. We had enough sleepovers as kids.”

Jiang Cheng scoffed down the rest of his food. 

“I could punch him,” Mianmian suggested.

Jiang Cheng shook his head, then pressed a finger to his lips. 

Mianmian sighed. 

He walked over to the door, feet padding almost-silently on the wooden floorboards. He opened it, and then slammed it closed again.

“Oh!” he said, pretending surprise. “Nie Mingjue’s here!”

Nie Huaisang flew upright. “Da-ge?!”

Jiang Cheng collapsed onto the floor in laughter. “I can’t believe we can still get you with that!”

Nie Huaisang sniffed and stuck his nose into the air. “I was unprepared.”

Mianmian put her coffee cup down on the table so she wouldn’t drop it in her laughter.

In the kitchen, Jiang Yanli giggled as she poured her own coffee. “They did that so many times as kids.”

“No, seriously, you need to get up,” Mianmian told him. “It’s half past six. You’ve got to be at work by nine, right?”

Nie Huaisang groaned. “Why’d we decided to do this on a weeknight?”

Jiang Cheng shrugged.

Mianmian shook her head. “Why’d you choose to go on a date on a weeknight?”

“Okay, fair point.”

Lan Wangji handed Nie Huaisang a cup of coffee. Nie Huaisang sniffed it suspiciously. “Is it -”

“Two shots, almond milk, caramel syrup, and three teaspoons of sugar,” Lan Wangji informed him.

“You are a literal angel,” Nie Huaisang said fervently, downing half the concoction in one gulp. 

“I’ve got how long until I have to be across the city at Niecorp?” Nie Huaisang asked.

“About two and a half hours.”

“That’s plenty of time! You could have let me sleep for another hour at least, leaving an hour for the drive and half an hour to get home and get ready.”

Mianmian raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You can get ready in half an hour?”

“Mean! But fair,” he conceded, “I really can’t.”

Lan Wangji handed him a plate of eggs and toast. Nie Huaisang thanked him and dove in. “I’ll leave in ten,” he said, mouth full. 

Lan Wangji hummed, finding Nie Huaisang’s phone, fan, and car keys from the table in the entryway where they’d all abandoned their belongings.

Exactly ten minutes after Nie Huaisang declared his intentions, Lan Wangji took away his empty plate and mug and handed him his things, interrupting his good-natured bickering with Jiang Cheng.

“You said you needed to leave,” he explained as Nie Huaisang frowned at him. 

“Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll go now. But expect to see me later!”

Five minutes after he honked his horn to make them remember him, Jiang Cheng glanced at his watch. “Shit! I have a class in half an hour.”

He ran a worried hand through his hair. “I won’t be able to make it home, but I have ten minutes here before I have to leave.”

Lan Wangji scrutinised him. “Are you Wei Wuxian’s size?”

“I mean… yeah? We’re roughly the same in clothing sizes.”

Lan Wangji nodded decisively. “You will find spare clothing in the drawers in my spare room.”

Jiang Cheng gaped. “Thanks, I guess?”

Lan Wangji shrugged. “He would not mind.”

Jiang Cheng looked like he was about to say something, but Jiang Yanli urged him gently on. 

Mianmian reclined on the couch. “I don’t have work today, or any classes. So just kick me out whenever, I guess.”

Lan Wangji studied the clock. “I have a class at one, so you will need to be gone by then.”

“Sounds good to me!” Mianmian said.

Six months after they had last heard from Wei Wuxian, on his way to another meet-up, Lan Wangji opened his apartment door to find a man he did not recognise.

The man put his hands up. “Sorry! I’m Wen Ning.”

Lan Wangji’s eyes narrowed. 

“I’m one of Wei Wuxian’s friends,” Wen Ning blathered. “He said that if anything happened I should come to this address. You’re Lan Zhan, right?”

“Lan Wangji, please.”

Wen Ning nodded rapidly. “Lan Wangji. Right.”

Lan Wangji headed to the elevator. His friends would want to hear about this.

Wen Ning followed. Something about Lan Wangji’s demeanour seemed to have made him quiet, for he didn’t speak again until they reached the cafe that the group of friends had agreed to meet in.

“This is Wen Ning,” Lan Wangji said as he walked in. “He said he knows Wei Ying.”

Wen Ning bobbed his head. “Wei Wuxian said to come and find you if anything happened.”

He stopped, his eyes trailing over the group. “He said that there wouldn’t be anyone who cared much…”

Jiang Cheng gave a rough snort. “Bloody idiot.”

Wen Ning’s eyes widened. “You must be Jiang Cheng!”

“You know us?”

“He talked. About you. When he was really tired and…”

Jiang Yanli smiled, sad and fond. “A-Xian always loses his verbal filter when he’s exhausted.”

She blinked, and her expression hardened. “You said something happened.”

Wen Ning looked down at his hands, twisting them together. “He vanished.”

Jiang Cheng slammed a hand into the table. Mianmian’s coffee splattered over the rim of the mug. “I knew it! What did the bloody Wens do to him this time?”

Wen Ning shrunk back. Lan Wangji held a hand up. “His name is Wen,” he reminded them softly.

Wen Ning grinned. “Yeah! I’m part of the medical development branch. Down at meddev, we don’t actually do much. I. Uh. I only found out what the Wens were doing nine months ago. My sister knew. Wen Qing.”

Jiang Cheng’s fist tightened again. “The head of your department.”

“I swear she didn’t like it! She told me to take the rest of our family and get out! And I tried! We almost made it. But… Uncle Five almost died. They almost took my baby cousin, A-Yuan. But…”

Lan Wangji nodded. “Wei Ying.”

“Wei Wuxian helped us. He and a-jie have been working for months to dig out enough information while working there and not seeming like we were doing anything too bad.”

Nie Huaisang pulled out his phone. “They must have pulled it off.”

Notifications were exploding across his screen, all headlines from various news sites. 

Wen Pharma Found Inflating Prices

ALThough the past few years pharmaceutical conglomerate Wen Pharmaceutical Industries seems to have kept growing at an astonishing rate, recent leaks from inside the company have exposed the dastardly truth - Wen Pharma has been falsely inflating the prices of their goods to keep their profits soaring high. In this expose-

DRUG SCANDAL

Has Wen Pharma finally gone too far? Breaking news reveals that several of Wen Pharmaceutical Industries’ best-selling drugs are actually exactly that: addictive medication with constantly-inflating prices. Today we hear from long-time Wen Pharma customer -

Lan Wangji closed his eyes at the onslaught. It was too much. He couldn’t take in all the information. He gritted his teeth and pressed his nails into the palms of his hand. Xiao Xingchen placed a comforting hand on the back of his chair.

“After this,” Wen Ning told them, “he planned to go home. But…”

“But what?”

“He disappeared one day on his way home from grocery shopping.”

Jiang Cheng closed his eyes briefly. “Was it the Wens?”

Wen Ning shook his head. “I don’t think so. A-jie wouldn’t have released all of that if she seriously thought Wen Pharma had him.”

Mianmian sighed. “He would have told her to. He would have said that if anything happened to him, to go ahead with everything.”

Jiang Yanli nodded. “That’s our A-Xian.”

“Always playing the hero,” Jiang Cheng said, trying for anger. His words came out choked and worried instead. 

Lan Wangji opened his eyes. “I’m going to call my uncle and brother.”

“No!” Jiang Cheng shouted.

Mianmian was slightly more reasonable. “Think about it, Wangji. If you do that, it’s all over. GusuLan will tear them to the ground, yes, but it’ll be rushing what Wei Wuxian started. We need the media and the public to muse this over, and it needs to be a State vs. Wen case. And if we make a fuss… Wei Wuxian might vanish. We need to work out who’s behind this.”

Lan Wangji blinked, slowly. He chewed through that train of thought. It made sense.

He had never hated sense more in his life. “My uncle has the best team of lawyers -” he started, and Jiang Cheng snorted. 

“Yeah, yeah, but you can’t do anything when there’s not been an actual inquiry and all we have is what documents Wen Qing and Wei Wuxian managed to leak.”

Lan Wangji glared at him. How could Jiang Cheng possibly be thinking logically? Wei Wuxian was missing!

“Which city?” he gritted out. 

Wen Ning looked at him, apologetic. “We don’t even know that.”

Lan Wangji clenched his fists. 

“Hey,” Mianmian said, softly. Lan Wangji focused on the sound of her voice. “Breathe, Wangji. Breathe.”

Nie Huaisang started talking. Lan Wangji let the nonsensical sound float over him, ground him. 

When he uncurled his fists, he looked up to meet Nie Huaisang’s eyes. “I’m going to cause trouble on social media,” he explained. “I have about two accounts on basically every platform that I can use to incite stuff like this.”

Jiang Cheng nodded. “We’ll give Wen Pharma a few months. I think they’ll crumble, and take the rest of the Wen family with them. There will be a court case. Wei Wuxian will come out of the woodwork eventually.”

“And if -” Lan Wangji couldn’t make himself say it. “And if -”

Xiao Xingchen exchanged a glance with Song Lan. “Groups like the Wens don’t kidnap people when they could just shoot them on the street. It’s a lot less effort. He’ll be okay.”

Song Lan nodded. “They want something from him. It won’t be a pleasant experience for him, but Wei Wuxian is a survivor. He’ll make it.”

Xiao Xingchen nodded. “I made it. He’ll make it. They won’t do too much to him, because he needs his mind and his limbs to work, and they’ll need him to work for them.”

Jiang Yanli pushed her tea cup away.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Jiang Cheng said. He was slightly green.

Lan Wangji wasn’t sure he was feeling anything, any more. He cleared his throat, just to hear himself existing. He tried to think. What was important now?

“Wen Ning. Where are you staying?”

Wen Ning blinked at him. “Oh! I was planning on getting a hotel room for the next week, then my a-jie will have arrived with the rest of our direct family, and she’s found a place for us to stay.”

Lan Wangji nodded. “We will see her then.”

It wasn’t a question. The others in the room agreed. 

“These weekly meet-ups will continue,” Jiang Yanli announced to the group as a whole. She didn’t need to state an end date. They would keep meeting and searching until Wei Wuxian was found.

“A-jie will be happy to meet with you,” Wen Ning said. “Wei Wuxian talked of you sometimes.”

“You can stay with me until she is in the city, should that work for you,” Lan Wangj said.

Wen Ning blinked. “I couldn’t! That’d be imposing!”

Jiang Yanli gave a half-strangled laugh, like she was reaching for any humour she could find. “Wangji wouldn’t have offered if it was you would be imposing. And it’ll be safer, with him. Not that we think the Wens will have time for anything other than hiding the dodgier side of their pharmaceutical company, but still.”

Wen Ning nodded. “I… I suppose. If it’s okay.”

He looked at Lan Wangji and laughed, just a small chuckle. “The two of you are so alike. Just trying to help.”

There was worry in the lines around his eyes. Wei Wuxian was clearly someone he was close to.

Lan Wangji swallowed. “Where are your belongings?”

“In a storeroom in your apartment block. I thought they’d be safe there.”

He nodded. “We will go collect those, and then return to my apartment and you may settle in.”

Jiang Yanli smiled. “Thank you for coming and telling us this, Wen Ning. You must be tired.”

Wen Ning fumbled through thanks and apologies, and then they left. 

Wen Ning slept through the afternoon and Lan Wangji’s panicked pacing and, once he’d realised he was pacing, only slightly less panicked meditation. 

He woke for dinner, a filling meal Lan Wangji may have spent more time than normal preparing. He was filled with nervous energy, and he couldn’t put a name to any of the emotions he was feeling. 

Wen Ning collapsed back into the bed in the spare room once he’d eaten, and Lan Wangji was left with nothing to occupy him once more.

He cleaned the entire apartment, keeping his thoughts full of tasks and things to do. 

It didn’t take long. 

He tried to read, but his mind kept slipping free of the grasp of the words, whether they were in characters or letters. He couldn’t concentrate properly.

He couldn’t stop the thoughts at the back of his head, the thoughts that said Wei Wuxian is hurting right now, and you are doing nothing .

Eventually, around eight at night, he called his brother. 

“Wangji?” Lan Xichen said.

Lan Wangji swallowed. He’d told Lan Xichen that he’d made friends. He hadn’t told Lan Xichen that they were all of Wei Wuxian’s friends, but he suspected that his brother knew anyway. There was no way he could talk about how Wei Wuxian had gone even more missing than he’d previously been.

He’d been silent too long. “Wangji?” Lan Xichen prompted, tone coloured with concern. “Is everything alright?”

“Brother,” Lan Wangji said, throat tight. “It is just good to hear you.”

Lan Xichen’s smile was clear in his voice. “We haven’t spoken enough, didi.”

The familiar term from his brother made the twisting lump in his chest shrink, just a little. 

“How is everything going?” he asked, in lieu of explaining that.

Lan Xichen launched into a detailed explanation of the initiatives he’d started in the family law firm, describing everything from how colleagues got on to the new desks he’d ordered. Lan Wangji smiled, softly. Their uncle may have been set firmly in the past, but Lan Xichen was determined to drag the company forward.

Eventually, Lan Xichen fell silent.

“Have you heard about Wen Pharma?” he asked, abruptly.

Lan Wangji’s heart thudded. “Yes.”

He didn’t say anything more. Lan Xichen took the cue for what it was. 

“It’s been good to talk to you, didi. I hope everything is going well. It’s almost nine, now - I’m going to get ready for bed.”

Lan Wangji bid him goodnight.

Just before he hung up, Lan Xichen added one more thing. “Wangji, if something’s wrong… don’t forget your music.”

Lan Wangji swallowed, and then listened to the sound of his brother ending the call.

Wen Ning was deep asleep.

He picked up his violin and played until his fingers were as numb as the rest of him, and then crashed into a restless sleep.

A week later, they met Wen Qing at a small restaurant. She looked exhausted, dark rings under her eyes. She looked up as Lan Wangji walked in, and a bright spark of amusement lit up in her eyes.

“Hanguang-Jun,” she greeted, and Lan Wangji blinked. 

“Pardon?”

Wen Qing smiled wanly. “That’s what he called you, while we were working, when he was afraid that someone would overhear him - you must know that he babbles while he’s working. Hanguang-Jun. I hadn’t thought it could be true, but here you are.”

“Hadn’t thought what could be true?”

Wen Qing swept a hand in his general direction as he reached backwards to open the door for Mianmian. “Oh, you know. Classically handsome, polite, and, if rumours are to be believed -” beside her, Jiang Yanli covered a smile with one hand - “intelligent and kind as well.”

Lan Wangji blinked again. “I’m not-”

Mianmian clapped him lightly on the shoulder, and he didn’t feel the need to flinch. “That’s our Wangji!” she announced, and something warm diffused through him. 

He walked to the table, pulling out chairs for Mianmian and Wen Ning, who had hovered nervously behind him ever since they had entered. Wen Qing stood up to pull her little brother into a crushing hug. “They’re safe,” she murmured into his shoulder, and then she repeated it louder so everyone could hear. “They’re safe. The rest of our family is safe.”

“Even A-Yuan?” Wen Ning asked.

“He keeps asking for his Ning-ge and his Xian-gege, but he’s safe.”

Wen Ning winced.

“A-Yuan?” Jiang Yanli asked.

“Our baby cousin. His parents are dead. We’re looking after him as best we can. He and Wei Wuxian took to each other like I hadn’t expected.”

Mianmian sighed, waving over a waiter. “Sounds like Wei Wuxian,” she said. “He’s always loved kids.”

She ordered a latte, and then turned to Lan Wangji and Wen Ning. “Wangji, do you want green tea or something else? And Wen Ning, do you want anything?”

Lan Wangji just nodded, and she took that for what it was - agreement. 

Wen Qing drained her own coffee, and then looked around the table. All the seats were full. She put the cup back on the table. “I really needed that.”

She sighed. “Should we order before we talk?”

They agreed, and ordered. Lan Wangji pointed randomly at the menu - it was mainly vegetarian, and he sent a grateful glance to Jiang Yanli for her choice of venue. 

Once the waiter was dismissed, Wen Qing folded her hands together.

“Okay. Where shall I start from?”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, uncomfortably aware of the desperation in his voice. “Where is he?”

Wen Qing shook her head. “I don’t know. He vanished just after we’d gotten enough information. It wasn’t the Wens. I know that much.”

Lan Wangji didn’t slump, but it was a near thing. 

“How about from the beginning?” Jiang Yanli suggested. “Why were you working for the Wens?”

“It’s a long story. I trained to become a doctor, so I shouldn’t really have been working in the medical research department. I’m a surgeon, not a biomedical scientist. But…”

Wen Ning looked down at his plate.

“My little brother is sick. Wen Pharma produced a drug that helps him, and I’ve got a large stockpile of it. It’s not amazing medication, but it does the trick. However… Wen Pharma had made the price almost impossible for us to pay for, particularly when he was really ill and couldn’t work. Our family scraped it together, but it kept going up and up…” She sighed. “Eventually, they told me that if I came to work for them, we could have it for free. It was too good of an offer to resist.”

Lan Wangji hummed. That made sense. It explained the small red pills he’s seen Wen Ning taking every night with dinner, and why the siblings would want to expose the Wens.

“But they only promised to help with Wen Ning’s medication. A-Yuan’s parents got sick. It wasn’t much - if they’d had access to this one thing, they would have been fine. But Wen Pharma was angry at how I’d been refusing to help them get approval for a few particularly addictive medicines.

“They died. They died, and I decided that it was enough. I was going to get the rest of the family out of under their control - most of us were minor workers, cleaners or transport for the most part - and then expose what they were doing. Part of the building was dedicated to illegal drugs, too. Meth and designer drugs, for the most part. It didn’t seem too hard to expose that.

“But they had a close eye on me, after I tried to pull some of my family out - if I differed from my normal path in the building, they would have known something was up. They sent me to Gusu to talk to a supplier, and I ran into Wei Wuxian at a convenience store. He knew something was wrong the second he saw me, and he insisted on helping. He said he wouldn’t really be missed, and that he was good enough to work there without getting caught.

“We spent nine months sneaking around, slowly weaning various family members onto less addictive medications and digging up all the things Wen Pharma or the Wen family in general wouldn’t want found. A week ago, we sent it out, and Wei Wuxian said he’d go down to the convenience store to get celebratory ice cream and maybe drinks. He’d been doing all of our shopping because he was the only one of us not watched heavily by the Wens. They’d missed how he was basically living with us, I think. But he never came back, and we left that night. He knew the address of the complex we moved into. We’d picked this city because he was familiar with it. But now…”

She trailed off. The rest of the table stared at her. It was a long and almost unbelievable tale, but something about it rang true.

Mianmian laughed, dry and forced. “He always got top marks in biochem, despite never studying. I guess that makes sense.”

Lan Wangji nodded. “He always wanted to help everyone.”

Jiang Yanli dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “Oh, A-Xian.”

“I’m going to fucking kill them,” Jiang Cheng said. “For taking Wei Wuxian.”

Wen Qing shook her head. “It wasn’t the Wens. They were too wrapped up in trying to get rid of evidence after it’d been leaked, and they wouldn’t have taken him. We would be at a funeral, now, rather than this.”

Their food arrived. It was spicer than Lan Wangji normally ate, which really wasn’t helping him not think about Wei Wuxian. Nie Huaisang snapped a few photos of the massive spread. 

“Well, who could it be?” Xiao Xingchen asked. 

Song Lan wiped his fingers neatly on a serviette. “Another gang?”

It was common enough knowledge, in their circles, that the Wen family was, for all intents and purposes, a mafia family. They weren’t the only one, either. Even the Jiangs had had connections in the darker world until Jiang Fengmian, despite his wife’s family and anger, had cut all ties to their shadier suppliers. Even the Jin family, known for their success in backing entrepreneurs and starting businesses as well as their gaudiness, had distinct, if hidden, links to the underworld.

Wen Qing shrugged. “I wouldn’t think so. There’s not much he did, really. It was mainly just sneaking around filing cabinets at the end of the day, and all he did during working hours was mix chemicals and write documentation.”

Jiang Cheng snorted. “Managed to keep his head down, for once.”

“Maybe someone who wanted him for his chemistry capabilities?” Xiao Xingchen suggested. 

They exchanged heavy looks. It was a well known but unspoken truth that Wei Wuxian was just short of genius. 

Wen Qing tapped her spoon against her lower lip. Mianmian licked her own lips. “Perhaps,” Wen Qing said, eventually. “He did make several drastic improvements on several products.”

“Do we know any group like that? Both part of the underworld and a pharmaceutical?”

They all drew a blank.

“I’ll ask around,” Nie Huaisang said, shoving his plate out of the way and placing his phone down. “Do you have a still active link to the Wen databases?”

Wen Qing looked at him, tilted her head, and then nodded. “Yes. Why?”

He shrugged. “Mo Xuanyu, one of my… acquaintances, is a white hat hacker. Well. All written record says he’s a white hat hacker. He’d be happy to dig around a bit more, for me. See if he can fully rule out that Wei-xiong was taken by the Wens.”

Wen Qing hesitated.

“What harm could it do?” Jiang Yanli asked. “You’ve already leaked all the info you could find, and you can just destroy the equipment once A-Sang’s friend is finished with it. No harm in that.”

“He’s really good,” Nie Huaisang added. “Da-ge employed him a few times, to check that we were secure.”

That did it. If Nie Mingjue, infamous for his stiff morals, had employed Mo Xuanyu…

Wen Qing nodded. 

Nie Huaisang fiddled with his phone. “He’ll be at your residence at midday tomorrow,” he told Wen Qing. “Is that alright?”

Wen Qing blinked. She wasn’t aware that she had told Nie Huaisang their new address. “Sure.”

She finished her meal and lifted a hand to cover her yawn. 

“You look tired,” Mianmian said. 

Wen Qing shook her head. “It’s a perpetual state.”

“Still, you should get some sleep.”

She laughed. “I’ll head out now, then. It’s not that long of a walk.”

“I’ll go with you, if that’s alright?”

Wen Qing tilted her head, evaluating Mianmian. She tried not to blush. Eventually, Wen Qing nodded. “It’s not good to walk alone, I suppose. A-Ning, you seem to be having a good time, so stay, but make sure someone goes with you too.”

They left, hands brushing against each other as they went outside. 

Xiao Xingchen squeezed Song Lan’s hand and smiled at him softly.

A month after Wei Wuxian had vanished, and ten months after he had left the first time, they made a breakthrough. 

It started with Mianmian and Wen Qing walking in, holding hands.

Jiang Yanli gasped. “Are you two together?”

Wen Qing smiled. “We are.”

Jiang Cheng pulled a face. “Everyone’s getting a significant other.”

Nie Huaisang laughed at him. “Finally admitting Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan are a thing?”

Jiang Cheng snorted. “Never. Not that peacock. I try not to think about him, ever.”

Mianmian turned to Jiang Yanli, radiant. “And how is Jin Zixuan?”

Jiang Yanli beamed back at her. “Oh! He’s good. He’s taking more of a role inside the company. Apparently they’re backing this pharmaceuticals branch started up by his cousin, Jin Zixun, and his father and Meng Yao are occupied with that.”

Silence fell.

“Pharmaceuticals?” Xiao Xingchen asked.

Jiang Yanli blinked, her face falling. “Pharmaceuticals. Apparently there’s a gap in the market left by Wen Pharma, and they’ve found a few geniuses to help get it up and running.”

Jiang Cheng hissed. “Fucking Jins -”

Xiao Xingchen held up a hand. “We don’t know anything yet. It could be them, it might not be. But it does seem suspicious.”

Jiang Yanli shook her head. “Zixuan doesn’t know anything. It sounded like the rest of his family was looking after it and intentionally making sure he didn’t know much. What I’ve told you is all he knows.”

Nie Huaisang put his fan down on the table. “Mo Xuanyu found nothing in the Wens’ information, by the way, and he destroyed the link and as much evidence of it as he could.”

“We can’t know anything for sure other than that it wasn’t the Wens,” Jiang Cheng concluded. “Great. Just great.”

Lan Wangji pushed his chair back and made his goodbyes. He couldn’t think.

Wei Wuxian could have been taken by the Jins. Wei Wuxian could be somewhere nearby, hurting, and Lan Wangji couldn’t do anything. 

He had rarely ever felt so helpless.

Three days later, Mianmian showed up at his door. She banged on it until he dragged himself away from the guqin to answer it. “Come on, Wangji. Don’t hole yourself up here. It’s not doing anything to help.”

“What could I do that would help, though?”

She shook her head. “You can be healthy and mentally stable for when he comes back and needs you.”

He exhaled. “And how do you propose I do that?”

“We’re going to get boba,” she told him, “and then we’re going to an art gallery with Wen Qing. You’re going to have a good time.”

To his surprise, he did. 

He spent most of the time sipping at his boba and trailing behind the two women, who walked with their hands linked, murmuring to each other. 

It wasn’t the art style he normally enjoyed, most of the paintings in bright bold colours and almost abstract in subject, but he found himself humming over a few pieces, pleased by something inherent about them. It was a style of art Wei Wuxian would like, he noted. 

He thought about taking Wei Wuxian to the exhibition, once he came back. They could drink boba and then he could watch Wei Wuxian dance through the gallery, eyes wide and mouth laughing, and forget to look at the paintings for his attention would be caught by something even more beautiful and wondrous. 

And then he realised that, despite dragging him along, Wen Qing and Mianmian had clearly designed this outing as a date. 

He stopped in front of one of the paintings, one striped in fierce reds and calmer blues, and tried not to think about him and Wei Wuxian on a date. It hadn’t happened in three years. Nothing would change once they brought him back. Nothing could. Wei Wuxian simply didn’t feel that way. Still, he’d like to be able to show Wei Wuxian this gallery. 

Mianmian waved a hand a fair distance in front of his face. “Earth to Lan Wangji.”

She looked at his expression, and sighed. “Wangji. We’ll get him back. You’ll be able to take him here.”

Lan Wangji shook his head, words stuck behind the lump of misery forming in his throat.

“Can I touch you?” Mianmian asked, voice softening.

He nodded.

She gripped his arm. He focused on the gentle, friendly pressure. “Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian will be okay. You’ll be okay too. You can bring him here one day, if that’s what you want. I think he’d like the art here.”

Wen Qing appeared beside her. “Damn right you’ll take Wei Wuxian here. He’d like this style, but he’d like the company more.”

Lan Wangji’s ears burned. 

“He talked about you a lot,” Wen Qing told him. “Called you his Hanguang-Jun. That’s not nothing, Lan Wangji. I know it’s hard to have hope right now, but you need to try. You’re going to see Wei Wuxian again. You’re going to bring him here on a date.”

Lan Wangji nodded, slowly. He just wanted them to leave him alone. He was clearly disrupting their own date, and they deserved happiness.

Wen Qing rolled her eyes. “Say it. Say it out loud, come on.”

“I’m going to see Wei Ying again,” Lan Wangji said. The words constricted his chest, but the lump in his throat lessened. “I’m going to see Wei Ying again.” The words scorched his lips, but soothed the pain, too. He would. He would see Wei Wuxian again. 

“And the second part?” Wen Qing prompted.

Lan Wangji shook his head. Wei Wuxian would not want to go with him, and Lan Wangji would never force him to do anything. 

Mianmian laughed, placing her other hand in Wen Qing’s. “You’ve already gotten a lot out of him. Leave it for now.”

Wen Qing scowled. “He’s like a brother to me,” she told Lan Wangji. “That means, eventually, you’ll be facing three shovel talks. Actually, four. Wen Ning will probably try one too.”

Mianmian crossed her arms. “Make that five. But I’ll give him one too, because you’re like a brother to me now, too. So. Straighten out that long face. You’ll both get through this.”

Lan Wangji suppressed even the suggestion of a smile, allowing the crinkle of humour around his eyes. “I don’t think I’ve done anything straight in my life.”

Mianmian and Wen Qing stared at him for a moment, and then burst into laughter. “Ah, there’s our Wangji,” Mianmian said, tugging at his sleeve. “Come on, let’s go look at the rest of the exhibit.”

Lan Wangji hesitated. “I wouldn’t want to disturb your date.”

Wen Qing snorted. “It was going to be a date. Now it’s a fun time out with friends. You’re not disturbing anything.”

And that helped, strangely enough. Lan Wangji nodded, light for the first time since he had first heard what Wen Ning had to say.  

That lightness lasted for another weekly lunch meeting, where Jiang Yanli revealed that Jin Zixuan didn’t know anything about the new pharmaceuticals branch, and partway into the next week.

And then he realised that Wei Wuxian could never come back. He could be dead, somewhere. He might have left intentionally -

No. He refused to think that. Wei Wuxian had said he would come back, and he was a man of his word. He had said he would come back, and he had his siblings and Mianmian and Nie Huaisang waiting for him, and Wei Wuxian was not the type of person to betray his family.

Lan Wangji was also waiting for him, worrying about him, but he doubted that Wei Wuxian cared about that. 

Wen Qing said he talked about Lan Wangji, but Wei Wuxian was the type of person to talk about everyone and everything he knew while working and under stress.  

Just as he was about to move from guqin to piano, purely for the sake of his damaged fingers, there was a knock on the door. Lan Wangji glared in its direction. 

“Lan Wangji!” a voice called. He frowned, then realised it was Xiao Xingchen standing outside of his door. “Lan Wangji, we know you’re in there!”

He revised his opinion. Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan. He should have expected it. The two were practically attached at the hip, happy and in love. 

“You’ve had some really good days,” Xiao Xingchen said, through the door, and Lan Wangji winced. He had . He’d been doing so well, and now…

“It’s okay to have bad days,” Song Lan said. “It’s hard and it hurts.”

Xiao Xingchen agreed. “Yes. Yes, Zichen’s right. But Lan Wangji… you have to let your friends help you when you have a bad day.”

Lan Wangji walked to the door and opened it. “What do you want me to do?”

Xiao Xingchen looked him up and down. “Well, I’d like for you to not have to feel like this, but that’s impossible. So how about just come out with us? There’s the tea house slash bookshop that I’ve wanted to go to for a while.”

Lan Wangji considered the idea. 

“It won’t hurt,” Song Lan said. 

Lan Wangji nodded. 

A grin spread across Xiao Xingchen’s face. Song Lan looked at him softly, joy and love written on his own face. 

Lan Wangji swallowed, and tore his gaze away from the pair. “Give me a few minutes to get ready.”

“Of course! We’ll meet you outside in ten? It’s a short walk from here.”

Lan Wangji nodded.

He ended up spending his few minutes washing his face and then sitting at the guqin to finish the song he’d been playing, one he’d written shortly after he’d met and subsequently been swept up in the whirlwind that was Wei Wuxian. 

The walk cleared his head, and Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan barely spoke, instead walking just in front of him, hands tangled loosely together.

He envied what they had. It looked so simple and beautiful and lovely . 

The teashop was quiet. They were the only visitors, and the only sound was that of a few wind chimes hanging in the windows.

When the tea arrived, an almost floral smell lingered over the strong scent of the tea. The server poured, and then vanished into a back room.

Xiao Xingchen took a sip, and then sighed. “Ah, that’s good,” he said appreciatively. 

Lan Wangji took a mouthful of his own tea, letting the flavour remain as Xiao Xingchen set his cup back down on the table decisively.

“Alright. Lan Wangji, I’m sure you’ve noticed that Song Lan and I have had experience with things like this before.”

Lan Wangji kept his eyes on his tea. Of course he had. What they had said when discussing what was happening to Wei Wuxian was unforgettable.

“ I made it ,” Xiao Xingchen had said. “ He’ll make it too .”

“When we had almost finished college, I met a man called Xue Yang. He was… he was truly awful. I reported him for something, and as a result, he decided to go after what I most loved. A week later, during winter break, I found out that Zichen’s family home had been burnt down and that Zichen was missing.

“I found Zichen a few days later, in a warehouse somewhere.”

Xiao Xingchen took a deep breath, and Lan Wangji’s eyes locked onto where he and Song Lan were tightly gripping each other’s hands. 

“It wasn’t pretty,” Song Lan said, after a pause.

Xiao Xingchen huffed out a laugh. “It absolutely wasn’t. Anyway, Xue Yang said he would let Zichen go, but only if I took his place.”

They paused again.

“Eventually,” Xiao Xingchen said, “I got found. We both got out. It wasn’t a fun time, by any meaning of the word, and it took a lot of therapy, but we’re both here now. We’re both breathing. And that’s… that’s all I ever really hoped for, on my worst days with Xue Yang.”

He took another sip of his tea. “I just wanted you to know that we all need someone to rely on, and that Wei Wuxian will survive. You just need to be patient.”

Had Lan Wangji been a different man, he would have wanted to laugh and ask “When have I not?”

But he was not, and so he did not. 

Instead, he just nodded. Xiao Xingchen was right, after all. 

If - no, when - Wei Wuxian came back, he would need help and support, and Lan Wangji would be there, like he always had been. That, he hoped, would never change. 

“Great!” Xiao Xingchen said. “Should we go look at the bookshop once we’ve finished our tea?”

Lan Wangji nodded. That would be… nice. And he deserved nice things. His friends had been adamant in telling him that. 

Twelve months after Wei Wuxian had vanished for the first time, Jiang Cheng called Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji pressed ‘accept call’ with no small amount of trepidation. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d held an actual conversation with Jiang Cheng. 

“Listen up,” Jiang Cheng started with, cutting off Lan Wangji’s greeting. “A-jie says you’re sad and that we’re gonna fix that, so get your ass over to a-jie’s apartment. We’re having a movie night.”

Lan Wangji blinked. “Okay,” he said, slowly.

Jiang Cheng snorted. “You better be there.”

And with that, he disconnected the call. 

Lan Wangji stared at his phone, and then went to pack a few things into an overnight bag. 

How that had ended up how it did, with Nie Huaisang snoring against his shoulder, Mianmian and Wen Qing tucked into a single armchair across the room, and Jiang Cheng shouting at the tv, Lan Wangji would never really be quite sure. But he was glad it did. He was glad he had all of them, like this.

He would be alright if Wei Wuxian never reappeared, he thought, and then froze. That was an enormous thought to live with.

Jiang Yanli pressed a cup of hot tea into his hand. “How are you?” she asked, and then laughed as Wen Qing started pelting popcorn at Jiang Cheng. 

Lan Wangji considered. On the other side of the room, Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen were tangled together. “I am good,” he said, and was barely surprised when he meant it.

Jiang Yanli beamed at him. “Great!” she said, and then manhandled the tv remote from Nie Huaisang’s slack grip. “Comfort movies now, I think,” she announced to the room at large, and then navigated away from the c-drama to a Studio Ghibli film. 

She gave Nie Huaisang a considering look. “Jiang Cheng, would you mind carrying him to the spare room?”

Jiang Cheng rose to his feet, then ruffled a hand through Nie Huaisang’s hair. “The idiot’s been working himself too hard,” he said gruffly. Neither Lan Wangji or Jiang Yanli were fooled. 

“It’s sweet of you to worry about him, A-Cheng,” Jiang Yanli told him, and then patted her brother on the head once he started spluttering. “Now go let him rest somewhere more comfortable.”

Jiang Cheng mock-glared at her, and then lifted Nie Huaisang up. The smaller man’s limbs flopped around until Jiang Cheng managed to manhandle him into a bridal carry.

Jiang Yanli had her phone out, snapping pictures.

Jiang Cheng’s ears were red, but he still managed to growl. Jiang Yanli laughed. “A-Cheng, we all know you don’t actually mind.”

He stomped out of the room anyway, but returned with a cup of tea for his sister. 

Lan Wangji let himself relax into the soft animation style and the company around him.

“This is nice,” Jiang Yanli said from her seat next to him. Lan Wangji hummed an agreement. It was, and they all deserved nice things. 

Nie Huaisang arrived at Lan Wangji’s apartment unannounced a month later. “Hi!” he chirped, carrying a camera.

Lan Wangji pulled the door open to allow him in, blinking slightly.

Nie Huaisang rubbed his hands together excitedly. “Right! So, my photography prof gave us an assignment around the theme ‘tradition’, right? And most people are boring and they’ll do like… their grandparents' houses and old-fashioned items they found at yard sales, but I’m not that boring. So I’m taking photos of the juxtaposition of tradition and modern.”

He fiddled with his camera settings, and then showed Lan Wangji a few photos. Nie Mingjue training with his saber in modern clothing. Jiang Cheng in a hanfu, nose piercing in and glaring at his phone. Wen Qing wielding acupuncture needles in a modern operating room. 

Lan Wangji nodded. “Good photography,” he complimented. All of the shots were in perfect detail, drawing attention to the modern and traditional features of the subjects. 

Nie Huaisang waved his ever-present fan in front of his face, flustered. “Ah, sure. Half the fight was getting A-Cheng to agree to wear the hanfu.”

Lan Wangji raised an eyebrow. Sure it had been.

Nie Huaisang flapped his fan again. “Stop looking at me like that!”

Lan Wangji hummed, but relaxed his facial expression.

Nie Huaisang trotted past him, circling through the apartment like a small shark. “Nice lighting,” he remarked approvingly. 

Lan Wangji trailed after him. “Where do you want me?”

Nie Huaisang tilted his head. “You have hanfu, right? I’ve seen pictures.”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“Great! Well, if you could get into that white one I know you have, and then play guqin? I’ll take photos from -” he flipped open a tripod - “right here, where I can get the TV in the background.”

It didn’t take long until Lan Wangji was settled in front of his guqin. Nie Huaisang flitted around him, tugging and pulling at some of the folds of cloth. He turned an appraising eye to Lan Wangji’s hair. “You put your own guan in? Wow.”

Lan Wangji hummed, spreading his hands over the strings. “Uncle made sure that both Xichen and I knew how to.”

Nie Huaisang grinned. “Well, for once it’s coming in useful.”

He positioned himself behind his camera. “Play whatever you want,” he said. “This might take some time.”

Lan Wangji nodded, and then closed his eyes. Nie Huaisang whistled appreciatively. “Yep, keep doing that.”

Plucking gently at the strings, Lan Wangji thought about what to play. In the end, there wasn’t much of a choice to make. As everything had over the past thirteen months, his thoughts went back to Wei Wuxian. 

He strummed the opening chords to the song he had written, and Nie Huaisang gave a slight gasp. 

Nie Huaisang didn’t make another sound until Lan Wangji concluded the song, pressed his hands over the strings, and opened his eyes.

“Did you compose that?” Nie Huaisang asked, soft into the growing silence left by the absence of music. 

Lan Wangji nodded. Nie Huaisang packed up his equipment in silence. He showed Lan Wangji the photos he had taken.

Lan Wangji looked almost ethereal, like some kind of elder god that had graced a small modern apartment with his presence. He wasn’t. He was nothing like that. He wasn’t good or true enough to be anything like that.

He closed his eyes and handed the camera back. 

Nie Huaisang made his way to the door. “Thanks, Wangji-xiong,” he said. “And… just so you know. The song you played just then was the one Wei-xiong had as his ringtone.”

Lan Wangji ignored the clenching in his heart that declared you meant something to him , and opened the door. “I’ll see you at lunch in a few days!” Nie Huaisang said, and then vanished into the elevator. 

Almost exactly 14 months after Wei Wuxian had vanished without a trace to go and help the Wens, Jiang Yanli called him with an invitation to dinner. “A-Cheng was going to come, but he bailed last minute, so I have a reservation for three but only A-Xuan and I are able to make it.”

Lan Wangji hummed thoughtfully. He didn’t know Jin Zixuan all that well, but spending an evening with Jiang Yanli sounded enjoyable. “Okay.”

“Great!”

Jiang Yanli gave him the time and the address of the restaurant, and then hung up.

Lan Wangji made it there slightly early. When Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan arrived, he shook Jin Zixuan’s hand politely, and accepted Jiang Yanli’s enthusiastic hug. “It’s great to see you,” she enthused, like she hadn’t seen him a few days ago at one of their entire friendship group’s lunches. 

He smiled at her, patting her back gently before lowering her back down to the ground. 

They entered the restaurant, Jin Zixuan reaching out to take Jiang Yanli’s hand as they slid into their seats. Lan Wangji shook his head at the offered drinks menu, instead asking for chilled water. Jiang Yanli followed his lead, despite Jin Zixuan ordering a craft beer.

Lan Wangji raised an eyebrow at her. She hadn’t been shy about ordering alcoholic beverages before. 

Jiang Yanli laughed lightly. “Wow, you’re observant.” 

Jin Zixuan slung an arm around Jiang Yanli’s shoulders as she beamed at Lan Wangji. “I’m not drinking because I’m pregnant,” she explained. “I was going to tell A-Cheng tonight, but he decided not to come, and I was going to tell you and everyone else sooner or later, so…”

Lan Wangji smiled at her. “Congratulations,” he told her gravely.

Jiang Yanli kept beaming. “We’re very happy,” she said, and Jin Zixuan nodded. 

Her grin faded slightly. “I just hope he’ll get to meet his uncle.”

“He will,” Lan Wangji told her. 

They ordered their meals, and the time passed easily, Jiang Yanli talking frequently and not minding when Lan Wangji answered sparsely. It was nice to have friends who didn’t expect him to be anything other than what he was.

“Do you have any ideas for names?” he asked, once he had finished his meal. 

Jiang Yanli squeezed Jin Zixuan’s hand. “Well, A-Xian picked a courtesy name for my firstborn just after I started dating A-Xuan.”

That would have been during Wei Wuxian’s first year of college. The year he and Lan Wangji had met. 

Jin Zixuan nodded. “He had a good name choice,” he admitted, only slightly begrudging. “Jin Rulan.”

Lan Wangji’s hands slipped, sending his knife clattering against the plate. “Apologies,” he said, and Jiang Janli smiled gently at him. 

“It’s almost your normal time to sleep, isn’t it?” she asked. 

Lan Wangji looked at his watch. It was getting quite late. “Mn.”

“We won’t keep you any later,” Jin Zixuan said.

“Thank you for coming. It was fun,” Jiang Yanli added, and Jin Zixuan settled the bill before Lan Wangji could protest. 

The next day, Jiang Cheng called him. “I can’t believe she told you before she told me,” he started, and Lan Wangji settled to listen to the rest of his rant.

Eventually, it wound to an end. “You will be a good uncle,” he told Jiang Cheng, cutting through to the underlying worry that had made Jiang Cheng call him. 

There was a pause at the other end, and then Jiang Cheng huffed. “A-Sang was right,” he remarked. “You really do know exactly what to say.”

There was another silence while Lan Wangji tried to process that.

“Thanks, Lan Wangji,” Jiang Cheng said, eventually, followed hurriedly by the sound of a disconnecting call. 

Lan Wangji blinked. That was a huge thing for Jiang Cheng to admit - that he had called Lan Wangji for reassurance, and that he was thankful for it. 

Fifteen months after Wei Wuxian had vanished, Wen Qing met Lan Wangji at the local library. Lan Wangji paused when he saw her, setting down his pile of law books. She carried an equally large pile of medical textbooks, and huffed hair out of her face. “Hey, mind if I study beside you? It’s easier when there’s someone else there.”

Lan Wangji nodded, clearing room for her. Wen Qing sighed gratefully as she set her books down. “I can’t believe they want me to take more exams,” she groaned, and then settled into peaceful silence.

It was entirely different from studying with Wei Wuxian, both of them found. Wen Qing was mainly quiet, as was Lan Wangji. They worked together companionably for several hours, before Wen Qing looked up and yawned. “This is nice,” she remarked. And then - “Hey, want to go pick up some boba before we come back here? I could do with a break.”

Lan Wangji nodded, and began the process of neatly stacking his books together. Wen Qing’s notes, when he could see them, were as neat and orderly as his own. 

They got the boba, and then studied together until the sun was setting. Wen Qing looked up as the light outside the large windows dimmed. “I’ve got to get home for dinner soon,” she told him, and then paused. “Do you want to come too? It’s just a short walk.”

Lan Wangji considered. His dinner at home would be just a simple meal, and he liked Wen Qing. There would be no harm in getting to know the rest of her family, the family who had known Wei Wuxian.

They walked through the dusky light to an averagely-sized house. Wen Qing fiddled with keys for a moment, and then swung the door open. 

There was a shriek from inside the house, and then a toddler came barreling down the hallway. “Qing-jie!” he squealed, throwing himself at Wen Qing’s legs.

Wen Ning emerged from where the toddler had come from. “A-jie!” he greeted, and then “Lan Wangji, welcome!”

Wen Qing bent down to lift up the toddler. “A-Yuan, this is Lan Wangji. Say hello. Lan Wangji, this is Wen Yuan, my baby cousin.”

Lan Wangji nodded seriously. “Hello, Wen Yuan.”

Wen Yuan squeaked, and hid his head in Wen Qing’s shoulder. Wen Qing sighed. “Give him a few seconds,” she whispered to Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji waited patiently, closing the door behind them. It didn’t take long for Wen Yuan to emerge from his hiding place. He stuck a thumb in his mouth, and scowled when Wen Qing removed it. “Are you Hanguang-Jun?” he asked, pronouncing the title carefully.

Lan Wangji blinked at him. Wen Qing snorted in laughter. “Yep, this is Xian-gege’s Hanguang-Jun. How’d you know, A-Yuan?”

Wen Yuan scrutinised Lan Wangji a bit more. “He’s wearing white,” he decided, eventually. “And he’s pretty. Pree-tea. Just like Xian-gege said!”

Wen Qing snorted again. “Xian-gege said that, huh? Okay, how about you run to Granny? I’m sure she’s been looking for you.”

Wen Yuan started wriggling as she placed him back onto the ground. He paused once he was back on his feet, and then turned to Lan Wangji. “Can you really tell if someone is lying just by looking at them?” he asked, curiously.

Lan Wangji knelt down to look him in the eyes. “Sometimes,” he said, seriously, and Wen Yuan squeaked. 

Lan Wangji held out a hand, and Wen Yuan grabbed it and shook it. His hand was impossibly small in Lan Wangji’s own. 

“Alright,” Wen Qing said fondly. “Leave our guest alone, A-Yuan. Go find Granny.”

Wen Yuan released Lan Wangji’s hand, executed a clumsy traditional bow, and dashed off down the hallway.

Lan Wangji straightened to find Wen Ning watching him nervously. “Uh,” Wen Ning said, “You’re vegetarian?”

Lan Wangji nodded. “Yes.”

“Great! So am I. There’s plenty of vegetarian stuff tonight.” 

They made their way to the dining room, already full of people. The quiet chatter stopped once they noticed Lan Wangji.

Wen Qing sighed, and then stepped forward, clapping her hands sharply. “This is Lan Wangji. He is fine.”

The crowd relaxed. One of the man, slightly balding, looked directly at Lan Wangji. “Hanguang-Jun?” he asked, and Wen Qing sighed.

“Yes, yes, Hanguang-Jun. Don’t overwhelm the poor man.”

Wen Yuan came barrelling out from between the legs of the adults. “Hanguang-Jun!” he chirped, excitedly, in the instant before he collided with Lan Wangji’s legs. Lan Wangji stared at him in confusion for a moment, before remembering what Wen Qing had done. He knelt, picked Wen Yuan up in his arms, and then stood, Wen Yuan’s head over his shoulder.

“Wow!” Wen Yuan said, “I’m really tall now!”

An elderly-looking lady made her way out of the group. “A-Yuan,” she sighed, and then held her arms out. Wen Yuan shook his head and burrowed further into Lan Wangji’s grip.

“I don’t mind,” he told the woman, presumably the ‘Granny’ previously mentioned. Granny smiled at him.

“You’re good with kids,” she said, and then moved to help Wen Ning carry out the dishes of food. 

Lan Wangji sat, positioned Wen Yuan on his knee, and began one of the strangest family dinners he had ever had the privilege to be part of.

The Wens were loud and cheerful, helping themselves and each other to the food, and Wen Yuan was clearly well-loved and cheerful. Wen Qing looked at home and relaxed with them, her expression open in a way Lan Wangji had only seen before when she was with Mianmian. 

There was a seat left empty at the table, though. A place where someone would say a joke and then seem to be waiting for one particularly loud laugh that never came.

Wei Wuxian had left his mark on this family, too. 

Lan Wangji left the Wen household long after he normally went to bed. His stomach was full, but his heart was curiously both warm and hollow.