Chapter Text
Of course, as luck would have it for the esteemed Lan family, their loyal and devoted bodyguard of twenty years solemnly submitted his resignation and announced that he would be opening a fried chicken roadside stand instead.
Lan Wangji slowly sits down, gripping the nearest table. He feels completely unmoored.
“We can...” he counteroffers with dignified desperation, “...add fried chicken to our house menu. Today, if you’d like.”
The bodyguard bows deeply. “You are too generous, Hanguang Jun. But I’m afraid my mind is made up.” He pauses, eyes misting, as if he’s about to share his innermost private thoughts. “I have even selected a unique name for my stand: Bok In a Minute. The concept is that you can get fried chicken in one minute or less. Fast food, you could say. I think people will like it.”
Lan Wangji sighs heavily, knowing he has lost. “Indeed, they will.”
+
With his uncle away on a silent meditation retreat (“No messages unless the house is on fire,” he had explicitly said), Lan Wangji finds himself now in charge of quickly finding a new bodyguard before his older brother departs on his nine-month exorcism tour around the country.
Such inconvenient timing, he thinks in frustration.
But he refuses to accept anything less than the best for Huan-ge, so he stays up all night painstakingly drawing up a full list of criteria, application template, posters to put up around all the nearby towns, and letters to other trusted families requesting referrals.
Amazingly, a few weeks later, he receives enough applications to start a second library.
He surmises with a hint of pride that, of course, no one in their right mind would refuse the opportunity to guard the honorable Lan Xichen with life and limb.
(Actually, all the disciples of the Lan Institute of Spiritual Guidance (“Helping spirits move on since year 303”) had decided to fan out and get literally every person they saw to fill out an application, regardless of actual interest in the job. They figured the more preoccupied Hanguang Jun is with reading resumes, the less time he’ll have to dole out punishments.)
+
Lan Xichen wanders into his brother’s study, looking for an extra compass to pack for his journey.
“A-Zhan, do you have—?” His voice trails off as he notices the shadows beneath Lan Wangji’s eyes. “Oh goodness, you’ve been working too hard.”
Lan Wangji shakes his head. “It’s all right. I’ve just about finished.”
“Finished what?” Lan Xichen looks around, surveying the teetering piles of paper. “Are we accepting new students?”
“No, we’re finding you a new bodyguard.”
Lan Xichen widens his eyes. “I thought I told you I don’t need one?”
Lan Wangji also widens his eyes, attempting to look innocent, but it only lends to giving him a slightly unhinged look. “But given all these applications, wouldn’t it be remiss of us to deny employment to a worthy candidate? Not to mention peace of mind to your beloved family members and students? And—”
“All right, all right,” Lan Xichen concedes. “Can I at least review the candidates myself?”
Breezing over his brother’s question, Lan Wangji holds up an imperious hand. “No need. Nie Mingjue is clearly the top choice,” he says with a self-satisfied nod. “An imposing stature, a decade of military experience, knows a thousand ways to kill someone, and no one has ever died on his watch.” He peers closer at his resume. “Also, excellent choice in stationery.”
Lan Xichen sighs. “Wouldn’t someone like that be better suited to defend our cities? Surely, guarding just me is beneath his level.”
Lan Wangji clears his throat. “I may have mentioned an unlimited weapons budget in the fine print…”
“A-Zhan!”
Lan Wangji lowers his gaze to the inkwell in front of him, and softens his voice. “Please just go with me on this. I can’t lose you, too, Huan-ge.”
His heart clenching painfully, Lan Xichen reaches over to hold his brother’s hand. “You won’t, I promise. I’ll always be here for you.”
They sit silently together for a while, memories of their parents surfacing between them.
Rarely does Lan Wangji ever ask for anything, his stubborn nature manifesting in an extreme form of self-reliance. So if he’s really asking for this, then far be it from Lan Xichen to say no.
+
“What is happening?” Lan Wangji exclaims as the post master delivers yet another letter politely declining his job offer.
How on earth has every single one of his top ten candidates already received a better offer elsewhere?
Had the Lan family somehow offended the gods?
Had he been too lax on his own disciples, and this is punishment for not punishing them often enough?
(Off in the distance, a group of disciples collectively sneeze.)
He tries to calm down by playing a nice simple song on his guqin, but his restless emotions cause an errant note to explode a nearby vase.
After sending a wordless apology to his guqin and the vase, Lan Wangji morosely lays his head down on his desk.
Maybe the gods are telling him he’s not qualified for this. Maybe he needs to enter seclusion and meditate until fate reveals to him how to create a better recruiting process.
His thoughts are interrupted by a polite tap on his door. “A-Zhan?” His brother’s voice sounds concerned. “Are you all right? The students are saying they sense a disturbance in the air coming from this direction.”
“I am disturbed,” he mumbles.
Lan Xichen slides open the door and pokes his head inside. “Is this about the rejection letters? You know, every no is closer to a yes.”
Lan Wangji lifts his head. “Not in this case,” he says grumpily. “Every no is closer to another no.”
“Shall we meditate on this together?”
“We don’t have time. Don’t you depart in three days?”
“Hm, that’s true.”
Lan Wangji gestures listlessly towards the tower of applications stacked in the far corner of the room. “Only the gods know what to do now.”
Lan Xichen glides over to it with a hint of a mischievous smile, and folds back his sleeve.
“Then perhaps the gods prefer…” He sticks his hand in the middle of the pile and pulls one out. “… this one.”
Curious, Lan Wangji gets up to peer over his brother’s shoulder.
“Jiang Wanyin?” He frowns as he recalls the details of his resume. “That can’t be right.”
“Why not? He has a nice name.”
“He didn’t write a cover letter.” Lan Wangji huffs, leaning away from the resume like it could bite him. “And his answers to my interview questions are downright ridiculous.”
Lan Xichen clears his throat to tamp down a rising laugh, and flips the resume over to read Jiang Wanyin’s supposedly terrible answers.
- Why are you applying for this position?
Because you’re hiring.
- Describe yourself.
A bodyguard.
- How do you handle conflict?
I kill it.
- Are you familiar with the basic principles of exorcism?
Find spirit. Exorcise spirit.
- What is your biggest achievement?
Not dying.
- Where do you see yourself in five years?
Not dead.
- Does your five-year plan involve opening a restaurant, food stand, or other entrepreneurial endeavor?
...No.
“I see nothing wrong with his qualifications,” Lan Xichen says optimistically. “He’s very… straightforward.”
“Clearly, he doesn’t take this application process or this job seriously.”
“You cannot judge a person solely by a piece of paper, A-Zhan.”
“Of course you can. That’s literally the premise of this entire process.”
“That was the premise, yes.”
Lan Xichen smiles serenely. Lan Wangji narrows his eyes. Too serenely.
A distant chime rings, and a cricket chirps melodiously.
“You’re actually hiring him, aren’t you,” sighs Lan Wangji, as he wonders why he bothers to do anything for his brother ever.
“I’m so grateful for all your help.” The serenity intensifies.
“You can stop now.”