Chapter Text
The moment mother said he was the future of their empire, he was snatched from the sunny fields of childhood into the reality of being unintentionally born with too much privilege he can't even use them.
He had to learn after that, and so he was taught all the ins, outs, and secret ins and outs of running a company. He learned how to please his father. He learned how to emulate his mother. He learned how to curb his anger. He learned.
And then he also learned housekeeping because he had a sister. Then mischief and fun because he had a brother.
He learned a lot—too much, in fact—that he eventually felt like there was nothing else to learn. (Okay, maybe except love, but that was a matter he never considered to be a part of his life so it didn't count.)
His gut-feeling was not right. There were, in fact, a lot he had yet to learn:
1. Mother has always said it to him and it's his fault for not remembering: Always expect the worst and plan like your plans will never go the way you planned it.
The office door barely made a sound when it opened but Jiang Cheng could sense that another person joined him solely by the sudden change in the atmosphere. He had no time to entertain, though, because Jiang Hanan somehow pissed Mr. Yao off and he was left to deal with the conflict that arose.
So Lan Wangji had to wait in silence until Jiang Cheng couldn’t stand it anymore ten minutes later.
“The sofa is fucking empty, A-Ji.”
Like the stone statue that he always was, Lan Wangji didn’t even blink. For once, Jiang Cheng worried for him who seemed to have never blinked within the whole childhood they ever shared. (Yes, it was this brick wall which was the childhood friend, not the smiley one. No, it wasn’t surprising that mother got it wrong because the Lan brothers looked too alike. And no, just because they were brothers didn’t mean Lan Xichen would also be a childhood friend.)
Jiang Cheng finally spared him a glance when the worry just could not materialize.
“No, A-Ji. Wei Ying already spent all his day offs for the month the other week when the two of you went on a date in Paris. His frequent early leaves last week also caused a major pile of work that needs to be done by tomorrow. Wei Ying will not be leaving until he finishes his part, even if he has to stay the whole night.”
Lan Wangji had the decency to look elsewhere when he replied, “Will not see Wei Ying.”
Whether the reveal of that reddened ear is intentional or not, Jiang Cheng allowed himself to feel an ounce of satisfaction at the display of shame. Not for long, however. A sudden visit from this second Lan without any Wei Wuxian involved was concerning.
Surely enough: “Brother cannot make it tonight.”
He wouldn’t deny not expecting it, but he was also not surprised.
When Jiang Cheng had proposed breaking the engagement, Lan Xichen had disagreed. Jiang Cheng was not ashamed to admit that he had successfully fallen, trapped under the older Lan’s famed talent in mediation. He couldn’t even be mad about it because he lost nothing anyway.
They had signed their contract of agreements after that, had small talks, had assured each other that no resentment should be born out of their union no matter forced. The last discussion prompted an additional agreement to bi-weekly dates to catch up with each other, which Jiang Cheng had proposed himself. The Lan, on the other hand, proposed weekly calls. They had agreed to go about their arrangements as soon as they were done saying yes to everything so Jiang Cheng had made sure he had a few hours every two weeks empty for said dates.
If Lan Xichen couldn’t make it at their very first then said time slot could only remain empty.
“Now, that’s troublesome,” he muttered before returning to his work.
Shame. Figuring out what to do during a free time was harder than squeezing in something during a very busy day.
“Brother gives you this to extend his regrets.”
He didn’t know what it was when Lan Wangji placed it down at the corner of his large desk. He’d bother with it later when he had nothing to do. He’d rather Lan Xichen texted him about it than send his brother to deliver such news.
It made him look less like the man Jiang Cheng made him out to be.
“A-Yin…”
“What?”
Lan Wangji didn’t reply, or at least he looked as if he didn’t know how to phrase whatever he had in mind. The silence wasn’t as annoying as when the younger Lan first entered but it was a little unnerving. Jiang Cheng just had to spare both of them the heavy atmosphere:
“A-Ji doesn’t have to worry.”
He wasn’t expecting to be believed, of course. The two of them knew, but it was okay to turn some blind eye to it if it made Lan Wangji relax for the littlest bit despite the lingering worry in his light eyes.
“We already talked,” Jiang Cheng continued. “We each voiced our consents and our expectations.” And that’s enough, for now, until it isn’t anymore.
For now, he had to think back and relearn what Yu Ziyuan had taught him all these years.
_
2. Lan Xichen feels too much guilt.
Jiang Cheng was expecting a call after that stunt Lan Xichen pulled, but he wasn't expecting it to be immediately after Lan Wangji left, nor was he expecting an apology in a form of poetics. (Okay, he was exaggerating, but where was the polite to-be that he'd been speaking to before? What is this soft tone? What is this familiar name-calling?)
“Lan-dage,” he interrupted the other before he could spit blood. “I have already said it's alright—”
“I truly have done you wrong today. Please, at least allow me the privilege to make it up to you before bestowing me forgiveness.”
He tried to even his voice. Really. “Haven’t you already bought me something?”
“Wanyin, how could that be enough?”
“How could it not?” he asked back, challenge not absent in his voice from the sheer ridiculousness of this. “Lan-dage, pardon me for cutting this short but I am a little busy as I assume you are too. We can talk about this again later if you still worry.”
“Alright,” replied the other quietly. “Of course, Wanyin.”
Strangely, the hair at the back of Jiang Cheng's neck rose. The older Lan's much quieter and lowered voice held certain vibrations when hold close to his hearing.
He pulled the phone away from him when the call ended, frowning heavily as he rubbed his sensitive skin.
_
3. Lan Xichen is an over-compensating idiot.
Jiang Cheng could not, for the life of him, even pretend to be angry when his agreement with his to-be failed for the first time. He was not inclined to care as long as his business still stood running and, well, running.
However, his to-be had a mind that worked differently, and so the following they, here they were, in Lan Xichen’s probably most expensive brand of car, driving off in the middle of nowhere.
He wasn't answered very clearly when he had asked, although it looked to be like a farm to him. The road was narrow and they were passing by fields and low hills. No matter how hard he thought about it, he still had no idea of the motive behind all this.
“We’re getting close, Wanyin.”
Like any closer was any clue.
Jiang Cheng wouldn't have thought they'd be off to a ditch somewhere. He was imagining another dinner date in some fancy dining so he hadn't bothered to change his work suit.
At some point, he must have dozed off because by the time he woke up, the car had stopped and the driver's seat was empty. Movements from behind told him Lan Xichen must be at the trunk.
Grudgingly, he worked his lazy muscles to get the hell out of the stuffy car.
—And my.
He didn't gasp but he did marvel at how long it had been since the last he was out in nature.
It was a meadow—and a pond—and gentians. Too many gentians.
Jiang Cheng had to tilt his head when something flashed in his mind.
“You must find it familiar in here,” Lan Xichen’s voice drifted from the other end of the car, holding a picnic basket. The corners of his lips are hooked in a soft, faraway smile.
He looked around and tried to grasp what was so familiar about this place, because it indeed was familiar, but he still couldn't quite tell why.
Sun. Pond. Gentians. And a small house.
“I was under the impression you wouldn't have remembered. You were quite young, after all, Wanyin.” Lan Xichen’s smile is brighter, fonder.
“We met, before. My mother, when she was sick, decided to retreat in this side. We would visit her, and sometimes, your parents would, too. Often, I hear them speak fondly of you, until one such time they brought you with. We met for about three summers until mother died.”
He couldn't remember but he could believe And he wouldn't admit it but it was an exciting prospect to have shared some childhood he didn't remember with another individual other than Wei Ying.
It wasn't very pleasant to not remember while the other does, though.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he replied instead, because he couldn't pretend to remember just to reply with something relatable.
Lan Xichen’s nostalgic haze snapped at that. The faraway gaze zoomed in on him, focusing once more.
“Oh, no, Wanyin, please. It’s alright. I should be the one to apologize. That was not my intended—”
Oh. Perhaps he shouldn't have focused on that part, after all. Jiang Cheng cringed within himself, almost struggling to maintain his professional facade.
“I understand,” he said promptly before the other could spiral down. Then he moved to another matter at hand swiftly. “Unfortunately, memories of a long time ago had never stuck to me. The more years pass by, the more years I forget.”
Lan Xichen hummed. “I have figured as much.”
Silently, they moved to a clearing near the pond. A cloth was spread, the picnic basket was placed down, their shoes moved to the side, and Jiang Cheng finally processed that he actually had shared a childhood with another individual tha would also be his husband soon.
Great. That's . . . he didn't really know what to feel, but that's weird. And a little threatening?
He'd heard much of how unpleasant he was as a child. Jiang Yanli said he was adorable, but he'd like to believe his mother more when she said he was bratty and snotty. (He could also remember the first few days he met Wei Ying and how he kicked that gremlin out of his room and he's embarassed about it, yes.)
He had built a reputation and attended therapy to change from whoever he was before. No way would a childhood memory ruin it.
“Were they good times, though?” he asked despite himself, because he suddenly felt a little ashamed for a past self he didn't even remember. “Those summers, did we treat each other with friendliness?”
“Yes. Very much.”
It's a small thing but there's relief sweeping over him in small, gentle brushes.
“Good,” he murmured as he looked over the waters.
It was bright because the sun is quite enthusiastic that day, but it was a good kind of brightness that drew his thoughts in.
Then a leaf floated down the calm waters, drawing small ripples. Jiang Cheng suddenly remembered.
Sun. Pond. Gentians. And a small house. Then a dog and a boy who clearly can't swim inside the pond.
He could vaguely recall that he had almost lost one of his puppies before. Love had been quite sick and the veterinarian told him it was because she almost drowned.
Sun. Pond. Gentians. And a small house. A sick dog drowning in the pond and a boy who clearly couldn't swim is trying to save her.
Little A-Cheng could swim.
“Huan-ge!”
. . . Ah.
“Ah.”
Jiang Cheng smiled suddenly. Now he knew why Lan Xichen gave him a figurine of a dog that looked almost like Love.
There was a boy in pristine white shirt and pants and couldn't swim who jumped into the pond to save something flailing in the water—a dog.
The mini version of his to-be was sensible, wasn't he?
4. His fiancé is sensible.
5. Okay. If mother says they're childhood friends then she must be right. Yu Ziyuan is always right.