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[singlelogbridge]

"Leave me a message!"
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[inkings]

[ let the record show, maleficent "mal" bertha hadn't been snooping; she has more respect for her friend than that. the paper seemed to have slipped under the cot and she picked it up in case it was important and she is now sitting cross-legged on his cot, sandals on the floor, locks of blue-purple slipping free of the messy bun perched atop her head. ]

Who's Lan Zhan? [ she asks without looking up from the list as soon as she hears wei wuxian come close. ]

[singlelogbridge]

[He blinks, staring at the paper in her hands and coming to a realization.]

Ah? [Okay, so she has read the rules. That's fine, that's all good, he has nothing to hide. He is going to frame them and put them up on a wall if he ever has a wall to put them on.]

You haven't met him then? [He laughs and it is decidedly cute and charming and not even the slightest bit nervous, shut up, Mal just caught him off guard, that's all.]

Lan Zhan, Lan Wangji, Hanguang-Jun—the light bearer—is only the greatest person I have ever known in my whole life. [Aside from Shijie, but her name is not to be uttered in the daylight hours.]

Also, he is a huge stick in the mud and he likes rules far too much, so I made him some of my own to follow.

[inkings]

Uh-huh.

[ very casual. extremely cool. definitely doesn’t have a crush, at all.

mal makes a point of studying the rules a moment longer, underlining a few with her finger. ]

I have questions. It says here, and I quote— [ she clears her throat to make sure she enunciates clearly— ] “Lan Zhan’s assistance will be called on at any sightings or encounters with dogs or other canine-adjacent nightmares. He must always defend Wei Ying from such monsters.”

[ she lowers the paper, but does not set it down. ]

Were you attacked by a dog as a child?

[ kudos to her, she manages to make it sound like an actual, genuine, seeking to understand in order to empathize question. it helps that she knew carlos during his dog-phobic days, though even then she thought it absurd, and this too might just be the funniest thing she has seen. (the entire list is, in fact, but she’ll go over it all one by one. oh, will she go over it.) ]

[singlelogbridge]

[Wei Wuxian grins in an effort to conceal his increasing nerves that he is feeling for no reason other than something about Mal's perfectly reasonable expression. (Her far too reasonable expression.) He represses the urge to snatch the paper from her hands, aware that it would be...revealing.]

A dog? [He asks, incredulity in his voice and only some of it for the way she says "Lan Zhan" and a part of him revolts with it.]

No, because a dog implies one, when in reality, there were many, all the time, every day! And don't you try and tell me how sweet and cuddly they are, I don't want to hear it! I will not be swayed.

[inkings]

Hey. [ she holds up her hands (paper still held safely in one) in surrender. ] I'm not here to convince you. My friend was terrified of them. He didn't want to leave the Isle because there are dogs in Auradon.

[ you know how one's mother picks the creature she hates most and turns into the boogeyman under the bed for her only child. normal. and carlos now sleeps with dude on his bed. but mal has a feeling wei ying won't appreciate that tidbit and she has questions still.

so. moving on. ]

Second question, what counts as a "ridiculous, nice thing"?

[singlelogbridge]

[He huffs and falls into the cot net to her, reaching for the paper with one hand.]

Why does everyone want to know that? [Everyone being Mal and Lan Wangji apparently.]

You know, [He waves a hand in the air] Nice things! Ridiculous compliments! Lan Zhan has this thing where he-ugh, it doesn't matter, he knows what it means and it's a rule for him anyway. [Lan Wangji does not in fact understand the rule as he too had asked for clarification but that is not the point.]

[inkings]

[ mal moves the paper out of his reach. ]

Does that mean I can say ridiculous, nice things and you won't stop speaking to me for… [ checks notes, ] ten minutes? At least?

[singlelogbridge]

[He narrows his eyes but pauses to consider. After a very long moment of silence he gives her a slow tentative nod.]

You have far less ammo. [He crosses his arms and gives her a stern look.]

But I am not promising anything! Don't push your luck! Anyway you came here for a reason I presume? What have you been up to today? Do you want to go see if they are showing any movies tonight?

[inkings]

Oh, no. [ she holds up a finger in warning at him. ]

I'm not finished with my questions yet. You don't get to change the subject.

following their fight

[quietroom]

[ The night following his argument with Wei Wuxian, if it can be called that, finds Lan Wangji troubled, restless, a weight on his chest pressing him down as he struggles to fall asleep. Time passes slowly as he lays on his cot, listening to the breathing of the rest of the new arrivals around him, the quiet chatter of a pair of people in the corner. This is ridiculous: time is a consistent measure that does not pass either slowly or quickly, and to think it passes slowly is just a reflection on the disorganized state of his mind.

One of the Lan sect rules dictates when disciples should sleep and rise, and Lan Wangji has followed that faithfully for most of his life. But there have been days when he's not gone to bed at nine. Days when he woke up well before five. Days he can't sleep at all. War and the nature of cultivation made sure of that. But since healing from his injuries, once he was able to sit up again and fever-exhaustion didn't keep him in bed, he had fallen back into the routine of sleeping at nine and waking at five and kept that up since his arrival in Llave. Sleeplessness is even rarer than not sleeping at the dictated time. Meditation and a firm resolve have kept insomnia at bay for the most part, even if worries troubled his mind.

It's not that he's never experienced it, and the cause of his insomnia is one that has plagued him before: Wei Wuxian. And like the rest of the times he's had trouble sleeping because of Wei Wuxian, he doesn't know how to solve the problem. Two options war in his chest, and neither of them is good. Tell Wei Wuxian about the Wen remnants or keep silent and let the chasm between them continue to grow when all he wants is to help?

After two hours of trying to sleep, he rises from his cot and seeks out one of the empty rooms, sinking into the lotus position to meditate again. It's better than attempting to sleep and not finding it, even if it's more of a struggle than usual, even if it's difficult to find that space inside his head. Focusing on the warmth of his golden core helps, the familiar energy flowing through his meridians. Not enough, not when his real problem lies not in his head or body but in solving the tension in another, but by the time he rises out of the lotus position with the same grace he does everything else, he knows what to do.

He finds a piece of paper and a pen, missing the familiar weight of a brush and the ritual of grinding an inkstone and letting his thoughts settle before he starts writing. But this has to do, for now.

He writes out, a-Yuan is safe and well, in good hands, using the character for Yuan he'd picked when he'd handed over the child to his brother. He knows his words are true: Yuan is safe with his brother, who will protect him with the same care he protected Lan Wangji.

That done, he returns to the main room, searching for Wei Wuxian's cot, and approaches on silent feet. Hoping Wei Wuxian is asleep, he reaches the side of his cot, bending to slide the note under his pillow. ]

[singlelogbridge]

[Wei Wuxian is not asleep. He slept for two hours the night before so he's rightfully exhausted, but he's not asleep. It means that when he hears the sounds of someone entering the room he's sleeping in, he focuses on it, unconcerned though still aware of the motion. Here in Llave, there don't appear to be many threats and the shelter patrols to keep an eye on things as well, but after surviving a war and living as the cultivation world's number one enemy, he's doesn't shake off awareness of others near his space lightly.

It would be different, he thinks, if he had his core and could sense malicious intent the way he had before. If he could detect the breath of air shifting that meant an arrow or blade whistling towards him. He can't though, and so. Being aware has kept him alive.

So it isn't concern that has him concentrating on the barely there sound and movement. At least not until the steps approach, not until he can feel the heat of someone kneeling next to him, until the soft rustle of fabric indicates an arm reaching near him.

His eyes shoot open and he catches Lan Wangji's wrist in one hand, the other already halfway inside his robes to reach for Chenqing. His lips are formed into an "O" to whistle, anticipating not reaching the flute in time. It takes him longer than it should to process Lan Wangji kneeling there and when he does, he drops his wrist as if burned, pulling his empty hand from his robe and looking away.

He opens his mouth and then closes it, far too exhausted to trust himself to speak and not somehow make things worse between them. Still too upset not to press for answers even now, even knowing what will come of it. So he stays quiet and keeps his eyes averted. Eventually after a weighted silence, he sighs.]

...it's early even for you, isn't it? [His eyes flicker to the barred windows that offer only darkness. It must be before five, he hasn't been awake that long yet, has he?]

[quietroom]

[ It was too much to hope that Wei Wuxian would have been asleep, and Lan Wangji rarely hopes for foolishness. So it doesn't startle him when his wrist is grabbed. What does startle him is the haste with which Wei Wuxian dropped his wrist, as though burned.

He should be grateful; he hates people touching him. But, illogically, it stings; Wei Wuxian has rarely avoided touching him before. He averts his eyes, the note still in his hand. ]

It is just before four in the morning. [ Definitely early for him. ]

[singlelogbridge]

[When that is all Lan Wangji offers him, he can't help the wave of bitterness that begins to flood him. After all that was said between them before, he isn't sure what he's expecting, but it isn't more silence.

Then he takes a moment to silence his mind, a moment to just be. To remember his own exhaustion and how it's lived in him these last couple days. To remember that he isn't himself and this anger, it's not for Lan Wangji. Not really.

It helps.

Lan Wangji wouldn't be here if he didn't have good reason. He also wouldn't be here if he only intended to argue more about telling him anything. His presence here is Lan Wangji reaching out. A peace offering. He's trying. Wei Wuxian knows that, because for all that he might have aimed that cruel jab at him before, he does know Lan Wangji and Lan Wangji knows him. The least he can do is attempt the same.

He brings his gaze back to his friend and catches sight of the note.]

...is that for me?

[quietroom]

[ He still avoids looking at Wei Wuxian, which is easy, considering the fact that he spent so long not looking at him and the lights are dim.

He wants to look, however. Wants to look at him and keep looking, but that's an indulgence Lan Wangji can't afford. Doesn't deserve.

He nods, recognizing it is likely hard to see in the dark, so he adds, ] Yes.

[ A moment of hesitation, and he folds the note in two. To leave the note and flee, to tell him and throw away the note? Too many choices and he doesn't know the right one.

He inhales, then lifts his eyes to look at Wei Wuxian. ] A-Yuan is safe and well, in good hands. [ It's better than letting him just read the note, even if the words are difficult to say. He sets the note down on the edge of the bed. ] To read when you wake up from dreams about him.

[ There, duty done. He shifts to rise from his kneeling position, so he can let Wei Wuxian get back to sleep. ]

[singlelogbridge]

[Wei Wuxian doesn't stop him because he is hardly aware enough to do so. He sits frozen, the words echoing loudly in his cavernous body. A-Yuan is safe. He's safe and well, he's in good hands. A-Yuan is going to get to live, he's going to grow into a teenager and an adult, maybe a cultivator, maybe not. It doesn't matter, he will live. He'll get to move past the trauma of his childhood and keep smiling. He's safe, he's safe, a-Yuan is safe.

It's everything.

It wasn't for nothing. It wasn't a wasted effort. He didn't fail them all so completely.

There is an ugly sound in the quiet of the room, and it takes him a moment to realize it had come from him. Wei Wuxian lifts one hand to cover his mouth and keep more sounds inside, eyes blurring over and over as tears that he can not stop fill his eyes without ceasing. He hasn't cried like this since—since he woke, after Jin Zixuan—but this is better. He has never felt relief like this.

He shouldn't cry like this in front of Lan Wangji or at all, he knows that. It's shameful, embarrassing. Weak. But he could no sooner stop himself than he could turn back time and fix his mistakes, and so he cries on.]

[quietroom]

[ Steps away from the cot, the sound that escapes Wei Wuxian makes Lan Wangji freeze. One of the advantages, and one of the pitfalls, is that he can hear better than the average person, so even a choked back sound is vaguely audible to him.

He turns to the cot, sitting on the edge of Wei Wuxian's bed, careful to keep a distance between them, but there nonetheless. Tears are odd, complex things to Lan Wangji, even the most straightforward of tears. He has no idea what to do, unfamiliar with how to comfort people. He doesn't want people looking at him when he's so emotional, but Wei Wuxian has always been different about expressing emotions. Not that he remembers seeing Wei Wuxian deal with someone crying, and the times he has seen Wei Wuxian so upset have been fraught with tension, or in places where comfort was difficult.

Not for the first time, he wonders what Wei Wuxian would do in this position. It's not a moment to be silly— not that Lan Wangji is capable of silly— or try to change the subject. But it's a moment that needs something. So Lan Wangji reaches out, touches his shoulder, and hums a familiar tune, softly enough that it couldn't be heard outside the room, but audible to Wei Wuxian. ]

[singlelogbridge]

[The touch makes him sob again, and he reaches back with both hands, catching Lan Wangji's arm and holding it there with trembling hands. Unable to conceal his face with both hands occupied holding onto Lan Wangji, he turns his eyes into Lan Wangji's wrist to keep them hidden.

The song hits him then and he goes still, listening to the hauntingly familiar tune. It's a song he's heard before. Sometimes when he wakes from dreams he doesn't remember, he hears it in his head, soft and mournful. It's a beautiful song, unforgettable, and there's a quality to it that hurts, something heart breaking.

He's never known where he'd first heard it. Only that when the world was darkest, when he was alone in the Burial Mounds fighting for his life, it came to him in the quiet like an old friend.

It's feels more like understanding than surprise when he realizes it's Lan Wangji's. (That makes sense, he thinks, of course it is.) His heart aches and he slips off of the cot, going to his knees and hugging Lan Wangji's arm to him in earnest. It's childish and clingy. Inappropriate in so many ways, even if he knows it's nothing to blink at by this world's standards. It's just that...it's just, he needs to hold onto something. He needs to hold onto Lan Wangji.]

[inkings]

[ mal at least has the decency to knock before letting herself into wei wuxian's apartment. but let herself in she does, calling for his name, and waiting for him to appear before shoving a (handmade) red envelope at him. ]

Gong Xi Fa Cai!

[ yes, she practiced this phrase. extensively. be proud of her. ]

[singlelogbridge]

[He is in fact extremely proud of her, and the grin that splits open across his face makes it quite clear. He hadn't told her about the coming holiday either, which means she'd either already known about it or had done her research for him. Either way, the words fill him with warmth.

The red envelope makes him laugh though, even as he accepts it from her with a shake of his head.]

What is this? How old do you think I am? Just because I have the maturity of a toddler, now you get to claim to be my senior? [His eyes are twinkling with laughter as he teases, and despite his words he holds the envelope like a precious gift.]

[inkings]

[ mal already won the holiday. that smile alone? she won the (chinese new) year, and it literally just started. ]

If you don't want it, you can give it back. [ teasing, she makes a grab for it.

lonnie introduced her to the tradition. mal, always intrigued by art, had been taken by the color of the envelopes, a red brighter than there ever was in the isle. every color, truly, was brighter in auradon. but the school had always been more of a pastel nightmare. northern wei, by contrast, was bold, captivating—a fitting home for someone as fierce as lonnie.

she forgot about the envelopes until she saw a classmate including them in her class project. mal painted and decorated it herself: chinese dragons flying above a tranquil lotus pond. with immense care, she copied wei wuxian’s name at the top using traditional characters. calligraphy eludes her so she used her own hand. the task wasn’t to be perfect; he has certainly seen enough to know she is far from it. but she knows how much she misses auradon, and only desired to bring a little piece of his home to him.

he deserves every joy in life. ]

[singlelogbridge]

[He gracefully steps out of her reach, pulling the red envelope to his chest and darting away.]

You can't take back a gift! [He flashes her a grin and then turns his attention to the red envelope in his hands. In all honesty, monetary gifts from friends make him feel weird, but the hand decorated envelope itself is far more interesting to him then whatever's inside. His fingers slide carefully over the characters of his name and his grin softens into something softer and sweeter.

The lotus pond might have been a more bitter than sweet image in another circumstance, but from Mal it only makes him feel warm.]

Aiyah, is there any end to your talent? [He teases, and then sets the envelope aside for later, tugging her along further inside.]

Me and Lan Zhan are having dinner together later. Do you want to join us? Apparently he found a restaurant here that serves proper new years food and everything. [They'll also be attempting dumplings together on their own, but that part will be just the two of them.]

[inkings]

Does Lan Zhan know it's open invite?

[ she maybe tilted the tone of her voice up when she said his name in imitation of wei wuxian. settling against the kitchen island (after kicking off her shoes at the door because she's not an animal, jay's claim to the contrary aside), she catches her chin in hand and innocently bats her eyelashes at him. ]

[singlelogbridge]

[Wei Wuxian turns to glare at her over his shoulder as he digs in the fridge for two sodas.]

Yes, he's invited his student, you monster. She hates me and she's adorable, you'll love her. Anyway, you don't really have a choice because it's a family thing. [He says the last part teasingly, but he doesn't look at her as he turns to fill two cups with ice.]

[inkings]

[ with that description, how could she not. may wei wuxian be terrorized by adorable little girls for a long, long time.

the mischievous glint in mal's green eyes softens. her voice is warm. ]

In that case, I wouldn't miss it for the world.

[singlelogbridge]

[He flashes her another smile and then passes her a glass.]

Good. Now I won't be the only one drinking. [He's pretty sure he could talk Jory into drinking before he could talk Lan Wangji into it, not that he would. Well. No, he wouldn't.]

Hey, I was wondering if you could help me with something?