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Everybody in the History and Music Department knew about Lan Wangji, who was quite possibly the most famous student on that part of campus. As Luo Qingyi was both a History major with a minor in Music Theory and a very tired viola player in the university’s orchestra, she was well aware of the numerous rumors and speculations that her fellow infatuated students would whisper whenever a new Lan Wangji sighting occured.
Personally, she just thought he was basically the local cryptid, because she had yet to meet him once. The only picture she’s ever seen of his existence was a blurry, very zoomed in and pixelated picture of his guqin performance at the last Music Department concert which she wasn’t able to attend because of the stomach flu. Her best friend, Jisoo, had set it as her phone wallpaper for a week, which was undefinably creepy and also maybe made Luo Qingyi sort of jealous, but whatever.
So far, this is what she knows:
- He is, apparently, the most beautiful man in the world. She has witnessed no less than two poetic descriptions and three actual romantic poems from various friends who’ve had the (fortune?) of being in his presence. Eric, whom, to her knowledge, is an incredibly straight man, had once sat down next to her mournfully in the dining hall and said, “I think I’ve met my future husband, and his name is Lan Wangji,” and Luo Qingyi had stared at him for two very long minutes before giving him her slice of chocolate cake to soothe his sexuality crisis. (“He looks like a historical Chinese prince,” he had cried in between bites of cake. “He glanced at me and his eyes were golden. Golden, Luo Qingyi.”)
- No one actually knows what his major is. Different people have apparently had various history, classics, and Asian studies classes, and in one odd outlying case, MATH 421, Nonlinear Optimization, with him. He attends every lecture, always sits at the front, and both asks thoughtful, in-depth questions and answers the Professor (“In his beautiful voice,” Eric sighs) precisely and correctly every time. She’s not entirely sure if she could trust Eric on this one, since he was probably too busy pining to hear any of the actual words coming out of Lan Wangji’s mouth.
- He only ever dresses in soft blues and whites. To be honest, Luo Qingyi’s brain space could probably be put to better use than knowing the color palette of someone’s wardrobe whom she’s never even met, but she’s heard too many descriptions of him as angelic and “carved from jade” for it to not stick in her head.
- Despite many, many love confessions, he has never actually accepted any of them. “Busy,” is apparently his most common response. “Thank you,” is the second. What he is even busy with, no one actually knows. Practicing his guqin? Studying? Friends?
And so, much to her eternal surprise, she finally comes face to face with Lan Wangji, the man, the myth, the legend, in the second semester of her junior year.
**
Because of her chronic inability to ever get anywhere on time—she either undershoots it by a mile or ends up two hours late—Luo Qingyi ends up showing to the lecture hall ten minutes early by accident because she overestimates the distance from her new apartment to the class.
Thankfully, there isn’t already another class in there, which wasn’t surprising considering it was an 8am. However, there is someone already taking up a spot at the front of the lecture hall, which was weird enough, but whatever. Maybe he made the same mistake she did. His head is turned down at first, the fall of his hair kind of obscuring his face, so she doesn’t get a good look. He’s dressed very fashionably for an 8am, though, in light blue jeans and a white linen button up.
However, he looks up from his phone at her footsteps, and jeez, okay. Luo Qingyi considered herself rather solidly a ladies-only sort of person, but that really was a very nice face. The man had no pores. Were his eyes golden? What the fuck.
Wait.
This had to be him, right? She thinks back to all the descriptions she’s heard. Good looking, check. Blue and white outfit, check. Golden eyes? How was that even a thing? He was Chinese, for fuck’s sake. She was maybe a little bit jealous. He probably never had a colored-contacts and bleached blonde hair phase in high school.
She feels like maybe she should document this for posterity. It was like a Mothman sighting, or something.
She gets over herself soon enough and slides into a chair next to him, because she was maybe a little intimidated by both his reputation and the sheer aura of attractiveness around him, but she was also two cups of coffee into the day and not a coward. “Good morning!” she chirps.
He blinks at her, his expression not even changing at all. “Good morning.”
“I’m Luo Qingyi,” she says, because she definitely doesn’t have to refer to herself as ‘Qingyi Luo’ around him, thank god. “I’m glad to see I’m not the only early bird around here.”
“Lan Wangji,” he returns politely, as if she doesn’t already know. He offers nothing else, and now there is a slightly awkward silence.
Well, it wasn’t as if she wasn’t expecting it, sort of. “Right! It’s nice to meet you. Have you ever taken one of Professor Yu’s classes before?”
Thankfully, he responds with something that could actually facilitate a conversation. “I took her seminar on Ethics in Chinese History last semester.”
“Really? Damn. It filled up before my class registration…” she props her chin up with a hand. Here was her chance to finally answer one of the mysteries about him! “Are you a history major, then? Did you get priority for it? Even my other senior friends didn’t get in.”
“The professor knows me. I asked for a favor,” he responds.
“Huh,” Luo Qingyi says. Nepotism in academia, how charming. She opens her mouth to say something else, but more people start streaming in, including Professor Yu, so she takes one last sideways glance at Lan Wangji before deciding that as curious as she was, she could talk to him some other time. There was the rest of the semester, after all.
**
Eric was absolutely right, much to her horror. She doesn’t necessarily get any more chances to speak to Lan Wangji again, but he speaks a fair bit in class. Not enough to be annoying, and all his questions or discussion contributions are always calmly delivered in that impassive expression of his and incredibly well thought out.
Professor Yu is probably grooming him to be her successor, at this rate. There’s this kind of terrifying spark in her eye whenever she calls on him in class and scans the rest of the room afterwards, as if she is wondering why the rest of them peasants aren’t quite yet on Lan Wangji’s level.
The next time he speaks to her, however, is after a particularly frustrating discussion session she has with one of her classmates on their selected historical text.
“Never mind the part where many contemporaries agree that they are together, why would you even insist that Hanguang-Jun had a wife,” Luo Qingyi hisses at the boy across from her. He’s wearing Adidas sweatpants and his baseball cap is turned around backwards, like the epitome of the stereotype of a straight frat boy.
“There are many places in the text that refer to him having a wife! He even is stated in various places to have a son.”
“Not that I can read the original text, but I’m pretty sure that the transcriptions in simplified Chinese used the gender neutral term for spouse! And it was fairly common to take in talented disciples into the line of succession, especially considering that they did not rely on blood heritage all the time to decide their leaders!”
Professor Yu has to step in with an amused look on her face. “Not that I don’t think this discussion isn’t productive, but class is over in three minutes and I’d like to talk a little bit about your topic for next session, if you would.”
Luo Qingyi fumes through the next couple minutes, slightly indignant still, before heading out the door. Just as she’s about to step out of the building, however, Lan Wangji catches up to her, his face as smooth and serene as ever.
“Luo Qingyi,” he greets.
“Hey. What’s up?” she frowns.
“I just wanted to say.” He hesitates slightly, which seems out of character for him. “Just wanted to say. I agree with what you said in class. Hanguang-Jun and the Yiling Laozu were certainly together, going by the descriptions in the text. But class ended before I could speak.”
“Oh. Thanks, I guess,” Luo Qingyi says, slightly nonplussed at his admission, but pleased nonetheless. “I don’t know why the concept that historical figures could be anything other than heterosexual is so unpopular. It’s not like it was invented in the 21st century.”
She could swear that a hint of a smile flickered across his face. “Indeed.”
“Good job on not being a close-minded straight boy. I appreciate it.”
At that, his lips do twitch up. “I am also glad I am not one.”
Close-minded or straight? she thinks, but doesn’t ask. The poor guy’s probably got enough of random people prying into his private life, anyways.
“Great. Well, don’t let me stop you if you have places to be, but I’m going to go get a coffee because I might die otherwise. Feel free to join,” Luo Qingyi blurts, before pausing in thought. “Wait, sorry. I’m not propositioning you, I swear.” She feels like she needs to clarify this, because she has almost certainly witnessed multiple people (not corner, because Lan Wangji definitely is not the kind of man who can be cornered) accost him outside of class already. It’s kind of pathetic.
His eyebrows travel very slightly towards his forehead. Had college not completely rid her of any shame, Luo Qingyi would probably be blushing at this point. “I did not think you were. And I am free.”
“Well.” She clears her throat. “I know this really nice coffee place off campus. It’s a local business, too.”
“Lead the way, then.”
**
They only manage two more coffee meetings before the class where Professor Yu announces that they’ll be doing god-forsaken partner projects, upon which Luo Qingyi desperately tries to meet Lan Wangji’s eyes before he can be swarmed by the rest of his local fanclub in the class. Thankfully, he agrees, which really leads to them spending a surprising amount of time together.
They regularly go to Luo Qingyi’s favorite coffee shop to work, or book one of the discussion rooms in the library. It feels very odd and clandestine, but she absolutely is aware of the gossip that their friendship (at least, she hopes that they’re friends) would cause if they were spotted together that often. Luo Qingyi decides at some point along the way to not tell anyone about her new friend, not even Jisoo, because everyone would know within the week if she did. If Luo Qingyi hadn’t already gathered before she met Lan Wangji, she definitely now knows that he is an incredibly private person. He doesn’t seem aware of his reputation, though, and she isn’t going to be the one to tell him. It would probably make him uncomfortable and more closed off than he already is.
He isn’t cold, though, unlike what some people say. Perhaps he is a little unapproachable, just by the virtue of his demeanor and his inability to emote, but Luo Qingyi thinks her years of parsing the emotionally stunted male family members have taught her some things, at least.
Moreover, during their second meeting she discovered that his lockscreen was of two (pet!) bunnies, and he has a bunny charm on his phone case. “Xiao Bai and Xiao Hei,” he had said when she asked him what their names were. She had made fun of him for his unoriginality for the next week, and any remaining mystique that she still may have thought he had instantly dissolved.
Unexpectedly, during one of their agreed-upon meet-ups to work on their project, upon seeing that all of the meeting rooms on the library floor that they usually favored were full, Lan Wangji invites her back to his apartment to study. Luo Qingyi was reluctant to accept for a multitude of reasons, mainly because she doesn’t make it a habit of following guys alone to their homes, but Lan Wangji had waited politely for her answer, not pushing at all, so. She compromised by sending a text to Jisoo in case, and followed him to the parking lot.
“You… ride a motorcycle.”
He seems amused, the bastard. What was he expecting? It was a beautiful ride, all sleek and white, and he did not at all look like the kind of person who rode a motorcycle. At most, judging from his expensive looking wardrobe, Luo Qingyi was expecting an all-black Audi or something along those lines.
“Yes. Would you like to get on?” he offers, holding out a helmet. It’s also custom painted in red and black, with some calligraphy on the back that she can’t make out.
She squints at him suspiciously before accepting it and putting it on. “Fine. If I die, I’m blaming you.”
“I am a very safe rider,” he assures her.
He isn’t wrong; the ride is smooth and nothing extraordinary happens, but Luo Qingyi isn’t so sure that she’s a fan of motorcycles in general. She’s also quite certain that while clinging on to Lan Wangji’s back is probably the wet dream of many other people out there, Jisoo and Eric included, but it just makes her slightly uncomfortable at her friend’s too-close proximity. Neither of them are really the touchy-feely kind.
Thankfully, he doesn’t take her to some prohibitively expensive penthouse apartment that would make her feel poor just by looking at it from the outside, but it is still a really nice place. There’s even a doorman who nods in recognition at Lan Wangji as they pass through to the elevator. Luo Qingyi won’t lie. She is desperately curious to see what the inside of her friend’s home looks like. He very much is one of those incredibly put together people, his clothing neat and pressed lines in his iconic color scheme, and everything in his backpack is so organized. She’s basically expecting the inside of his home to look like it stepped out of a Muji interior design spread.
What she sees when she steps into Lan Wangji’s apartment for the first time is… half of what she was expecting and half not? The walls are a soft cream, but much of it is covered with framed posters of musicians, with everything from a poster of one of Lan Wangji’s performances to Led Zeppelin. Some of the furniture does go together—the sofa set and matching armchairs are all a light blue—but none of the lamps are at all matching, and the coffee table is one of those artsy ones that resemble more of a piece of wood haphazardly carved from a tree than an actual table. Still, it somehow works; the space is more cozy than austere, as she was expecting. Lan Wangji did not look like a man who would have fairy lights strung up in his space and a giant white fluffy throw rug, or someone who listened to Metallica. As she takes off her shoes, she spies a collection of sneakers and boots that definitely do not belong to him, since he’s never worn red Air Force Ones. At least, not in her presence.
A roommate, maybe? Or a partner? They’d never discussed their love lives before, so Luo Qingyi wouldn’t know, but from the seamless melding of the two different styles in the apartment, she suspected it was probably the latter. From what she knew of him, very few people probably got to even see the inside of this apartment.
“Take a seat,” he says. “Would you like a drink?”
“Green tea, if you have it? Thanks.”
She begins to set her computer and notes out on the couch as Lan Wangji heads to the kitchen, and from the sounds of it, turns the kettle on. As she waits for her laptop to start up, her eyes stray to the bookshelf beside her, and the picture frames on it.
One of them is of Lan Wangji and another taller man who looks almost exactly like him, save for the fact that he’s smiling so widely that his cheeks dimple. Lan Wangji looks painfully young, his face not yet stripped of its baby fat, but he’s dressed in concert gear and his lips are curved in a slight smile. Behind them stands a man with a goatee, his face stern, but his hand rests on Lan Wangji’s shoulder.
There’s two more pictures of the three of them, one of them an awkward family picture taken in a studio. In the second one, there is also another boy beside him with messy hair and a beaming smile, his arm hooked around Lan Wangji’s. They are both wearing graduation robes. Lan Wangji isn’t staring at the camera, but at him instead.
That same boy is in all the other pictures, too. There’s several more group photos of who she assumes are friends, all featuring various combinations of the same set of people. There’s one of them at what looks like to be a wedding, one of some red ribbon ceremony in front of a large office building, and another at what looks like a carnival. They look so wholesome. Lan Wangji looks so happy in them.
The thing she keeps staring at, though, at isn’t a photograph, exactly, but a roll of photobooth pictures tucked away in that picture frame of the graduation photo. It’s just him and the man from the graduation pictures. Lan Wangji looks like nothing could possibly tear his eyes from the person beside him. They are very close together. In the last picture, the man is pressing a kiss to Lan Wangji’s cheek, his arms slung around his neck. It makes her feel a little wistful. She thinks of the set of photobooth pictures that she has pinned up in her room, of her and Jisoo.
The sound of Lan Wangji setting mugs down on the table jolts her out of her thoughts. Luo Qingyi quickly withdraws her hands from where she was unconsciously halfway reaching out to the photo frame, immediately embarrassed at being caught snooping so obviously.
For a moment, she thinks that he isn’t going to comment on it, but then his eyes follow to where she was looking at, and his eyes light up, a little. “Wei Ying insisted on taking all of those.”
Luo Qingyi blinks. Wei Ying? Was that… him? Unsure what to do at this new piece of information being offered up, she asks, “Wei Ying?”
“Mn. My boyfriend,” he clarifies. It sounds strangely juvenile coming out of his mouth, and Luo Qingyi has the oddest feeling that he meant to say something else in its place. Nevertheless, the confirmation of her suspicions is nice to have, and she inwardly snickers at the many broken hearts that this would cause. Not that she was going to tell anyone, but it was funny to imagine. “I do not like taking pictures of myself, but he said it was necessary. They are… nice, to look at, when he is gone.”
“Oh, where is he right now?”
“He travels a lot for work,” Lan Wangji says. He hesitates. “You could meet him when he returns, if you would like.”
“Really?” Luo Qingyi brightens. “I would love to! I’ve never met any of your other friends. How did you guys meet?”
“I have not met any of your friends either,” he points out.
Luo Qingyi shakes her head. “That’s because I don’t trust them around you, not that I don’t trust you with them. I would rather not subject you to their fangirling.”
Lan Wangji raises an eyebrow but doesn’t question further. “If you say so.” He sits down by her on the couch, pulling out his own materials from his backpack. “You said you wanted to know more about Wei Ying?”
At Luo Qingyi’s excited nods, he continues. “We met in high school. I suppose you could say that we were best friends, for a while. He was unlike anyone I ever met.”
“How did you get together, then?” She was so, so curious. Normally, she wouldn’t pry this much… But Lan Wangji seemed more than happy to be mooning over his history with his significant other, so she would gladly take the chance to hear her friend’s probably sappy love story. Actually, he sort of seemed like the type to secretly write yearning, romantic poetry, now that she thought about it.
“We actually had… some differences, in our last year. I thought that was the end of our friendship. It was less about anything between us and more about some unfortunate circumstances between our families and some others, but as our graduation was fast approaching. Some things made me realize that I could not bear to lose him.”
Luo Qingyi thinks that might’ve been the longest uninterrupted dialogue she’s heard him say that wasn’t related to a historical text. “Did you already know how you felt beforehand?”
“Yes. But I was too afraid to risk what we already had before that.”
“That’s so sweet,” Luo Qingyi says resolutely, trying not to do something stupid like pat Lan Wangji’s cheeks. He looks so fond talking about it, his eyes soft and his smile a small, private thing. “Did he move here to be with you for university?”
“Mn. He is an artist and writer, and he was already publishing after high school, so he decided to come with me after we graduated.”
“Lan Wangji, I cannot believe you’ve been keeping your high school sweetheart from me this entire time, what the hell.” Now that she thinks about it, there probably were other signs that he had someone so close to him in his life, and of course he wouldn’t feel the need to reveal something like this so casually to other people.
He huffs slightly. “It was not entirely on purpose,” he hesitates. “Actually, you remind him of me a little.”
“Wait, really? What about me does?” Luo Qingyi can’t really picture Lan Wangji dating someone like her. Nothing of note would ever be said in the relationship, probably, because they’re both prickly assholes.
“You are both very passionate about history,” he responds. “And also very stubborn, but very generous with what you give of yourself to other people.
Luo Qingyi blinks at the heavy words. She’s not quite sure what to do with them, but Lan Wangji says it with all his straightforward intensity, and she knows he’s not the kind to flatter for the sake of it. “Thank you? Did you just also insult me? I am not stubborn.”
He blinks placidly at her. “Three days ago when someone tried to use the meeting room that they rightfully reserved while we were in it, you threw them out because you did not want to move.”
She flushes. That hadn’t been her finest moment, sure, but it had been a long week and there was literally an empty meeting room next door that the other person could’ve gone to.
“Lan Wangji, I will steal all your tea. First, you make me feel pathetically single, and then you torment me with my poor life decisions?”
“I know you are single. You have made it very clear.”
Luo Qingyi pretends to throw a couch cushion at him. “We can’t all be like you, all smooth and confessing to our crushes.”
“I still think you should try,” he says. Luo Qingyi sighs internally. She had let slip about her feelings for Jisoo to Lan Wangji once when she was slightly depressed because of the boy that Jisoo had set her eyes on, and now the man wouldn’t let it go. Now knowing the story of his romantic past, she kind of gets why he’s determined that it’s better for her to tell Jisoo before it’s too late, but the fear of ruining their friendship and years of self-repressed internalized homophobia is kind of a big hurdle to get over.
“…I know. But she’s been talking to someone recently, and I don’t know… You know my reasons,” she exhales, the earlier amusement at discovering Lan Wangji’s mystery significant other dimming at the reminder of her own issues.
“My apologies. That was unfair of me.”
“No, don’t worry about it. I didn’t mean to get all mopey. We should get to work though.”
“Mn.”
**
Luo Qingyi is alone in her apartment on a Saturday, making her way through a tub of chocolate brownie fudge while watching some stupid romance drama to make herself feel a little bit better, when she receives a text from Lan Wangji.
老忘 : Luo Qingyi, are you free?
Luo Qingyi frowns. Since the project was over, she had still spent some time with him after class or for lunch, but considering that the workload was ramping up for the both of them this late in the semester, they hadn’t really hung out too much otherwise.
Also, she was indeed busy moping about Jisoo going on a date with that stupid boy she hadn’t stopped talking about, but she wasn’t about to tell him that.
Yes, what’s up?
老忘 : Wei Ying has been back for a few days. Would you like to meet him?
!!! Would I ever
That is, if you don’t mind
Wouldn’t want to take away from your reunion time ﾍ(= ￣ ∇ ￣) ﾉ
老忘 : No worries.
老忘 : Usual place at 3?
Oh, today??
Sure, I’ll be there!!
老忘: See you there.
Luo Qingyi still feels a little bit like a sad lump of a human being, but she figures that it was probably best for her to get her mind off of things, anyway. That way she could act at least somewhat normal and supportive when Jisoo returned from her date later.
She gets there a little bit early and decides to spend her last $5 for the week on an overly large latte to treat herself. At any rate, she has enough food in her apartment to make her traditional college student meal (rice and soy sauce) until her next TA paycheck comes in. Luo Qingyi sighs. Was Jisoo with her date at a coffee shop like this? Did he buy her coffee and one of those stupid eclairs that she liked?
Lost in her thoughts, she doesn’t notice the two of them come in until Lan Wangji says, “Luo Qingyi,” and she turns around and. Wow.
She thought she was immune to Lan Wangji’s stupidly good-looking face after having had several months to get used to it, but now there was not only one, but two ridiculously attractive people. Jesus. Luo Qingyi hadn’t really paid attention to Wei Ying’s face in the photographs that she saw, but the both of them together looked like they could’ve been two famous actors, or idols. Life really was incredibly unfair. Of course all of the beautiful people would date other beautiful people. And they were holding hands! She kind of wants to coo at Lan Wangji a bit. He definitely didn’t look as stoic like this. So much for his cold, princely reputation. Wei Ying gives her a little wave.
“Oh! Hi. You must be Wei Ying! I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Really?” Wei Ying beams. They slide into the chairs across from her. Their skin literally glows in the sunlight coming through the window. Luo Qingyi thinks about her eyebags and the hair she hasn’t washed in a bit and feels, again, like the world is terribly unfair. “I wish I could say the same. I was worried Lan Zhan was hiding himself in the library and not making any friends.”
“I have friends,” Lan Wangji says mildly.
“You do!” Wei Ying says easily. “But, Lan Zhan, I meant college friends, not all of our other boring, mutual adult friends. Like the people who go to parties and drink out of red solo cups, that sort of thing?”
“Wait, Lan Zhan?” Luo Qingyi interrupts, confused. She decides not to point out that the last party she went to was three months ago, when she wasn’t drowning in schoolwork and practices. Or that most of the time she drank out of a cranberry juice bottle.
They look at each other. Wei Ying laughs a bit. “Uh, yeah. They’re nicknames, I guess you could say. Um. No one else really calls us that? Sometimes we forget. My actual name is Wei Wuxian.”
“Wei Wuxian?” Luo Qingyi gasps. “Oh my god. He said you were a writer.”
“I am!” he says cheerily. “I just finished up my book tour, so I get to be home with Lan Zhan now.”
“You!” Luo Qingyi says accusingly at Lan Wangji. “You!” Lan Zhan and Wei Ying were really weird nickname choices! They were dating each other, so why the hell would they pick such confusing terms of affection? Why would Lan Wangji not tell her that he was dating fucking Wei Wuxian?
Lan Wangji raises his eyebrows. Luo Qingyi deflates slightly. What else was she expecting from him? She found out he had a man four months into their friendship. “This is not what I was expecting today. The Founder of Diabolism series is one of my favorites!”
“Really?” Wei Wuxian seems delighted. “I love to meet fans. You should’ve come to my signing in town!”
Luo Qingyi resolutely does not pout. “It was during the summer, when I was visiting family.”
“Ah,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “I can still sign it, if you’d like?”
“I’ll leave you two to it,” Lan Wangji says. “Your usual, Wei Ying?”
“Thanks!” Wei Wuxian says. He pecks Lan Wangji’s cheek. When Lan Wangji gets up, a silence falls over the table, partially because Luo Qingyi is still reeling slightly from the fact that she met Wei Wuxian and he was dating one of her friends and that friend he was dating was Lan Wangji. It was a lot to handle. She was processing.
Wei Wuxian is the first to break the silence. “So, how did you become friends with Lan Zhan?”
She breaks out of her stupor. “Oh. I actually think it was because I was arguing with someone in our Gender and Sexuality in Ancient China class? He insisted that Hanguang-Jun was married. To a woman. Now I know why he was talked to me after I was so adamant that he wasn’t straight, considering you basically wrote the historical fiction novel on Hanguang-Jun and the Yiling Laozu. It just kind of went from there?”
Wei Wuxian laughs. “Well, I’m sure you would agree, but there is some actual historical basis behind my writing, so. Lan Zhan is, of course, very supportive.”
“I mean, yes,” Luo Qingyi grins. “I was also curious about Lan Wangji. I’m in the Music Department too,” she adds in response to Wei Ying’s questioning look. “Not many people pick an instrument like the guqin. Come to think of it, you’ve seen him play, right? I don’t remember seeing you at our end-of-year concerts.”
“Of course I’ve been to every performance!” Wei Wuxian says indignantly. “I get him his favorite flowers every time. What do you mean you’ve never seen me before?”
“I mean…” Luo Qingyi trails off. “I don’t know if Lan Wangji knows, but he’s… kind of popular?”
“Wait, what?” he leans forward. “I don’t know how this is relevant, but you have to spill.”
Luo Qingyi blinks. How do you tell someone’s long term boyfriend that their significant other has half of the School of Music and a third of the History department thirsting over him? “It is relevant, I promise. Um. I’m sure you’ve noticed,” she says dryly, “but Lan Wangji is very attractive? Not,” she interjects, “that I particularly care, but a lot of other people do.”
Wei Wuxian sniffs. “Well, I care very much, thank you. My Lan Zhan is very beautiful. Anyone with a working set of eyes should be able to tell.”
Luo Qingyi stares a bit. She’s getting the feeling that this is the standard reaction to Wei Wuxian. This man really was very shameless, for a man who was dating someone so expressionless. Although she’s definitely heard worse from others, regarding Lan Wangji. “Well, he’s also very mysterious because he doesn’t really talk to anyone all that much. Combine that with the fact that he plays at a ton of recitals, and tada! Your boyfriend has a lot of fanboys and fangirls chasing after him on a regular basis.”
Of course, this is the time that Lan Wangji decides to return with their orders, for whatever reason. Wei Wuxian, on the other hand, instead of seeming miffed like she expected, seems positively delighted. “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan! Why did you not tell me that you had so many admirers at your university? Should I have been defending your honor from them?”
“What admirers?” Lan Wangji responds. She can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not.
“Wangji, I have witnessed no less than five people try to ask you out after class since the semester started.” Luo Qingyi says flatly. “One of them thought I was your girlfriend and still asked you out anyway. Those admirers?”
“Oh.” He pauses, seemingly at a (even larger) loss for words than usual. “I… did not realize.”
Luo Qingyi feels slightly dazed. She presses her palm to her forehead, and decides that isn’t enough to deal with this, before gently pressing her face to the table. “How,” she says, muffled. “How do you not know. I heard of you before I even met you. Three of my friends have professed their love for you to me. You have a boyfriend. How did you get a boyfriend?”
Wei Wuxian cackles. Fortunately, the patrons of this coffee shop have certainly seen worse from stressed college students, because no one even looks over at them. “Of course he didn’t notice!! After he told me that he liked me, he still didn’t realize that I liked him back because he was so in his feelings about it.” He pauses. “Also, keep in mind we accidentally friendzoned each other for… four years? There was a lot of misunderstandings there.”
Luo Qingyi’s head is still on the table. She takes back everything she’s ever said about Lan Wangji’s competence. He’s just a giant disaster gay. Honestly, she can relate, except nothing has come out of her unrequited pining yet.
“It does not matter. The only confession I want to receive is Wei Ying’s,” Lan Wangji says with a very straight face. Luo Qingyi, who was in the process of raising her head from the table to respond, decides to put it back down again.
“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying exclaims, somehow managing to sound both embarrassed and soppily in love at the same time. “You can’t say things like that. It’s not good for my heart. Look at what you’ve done to Luo Qingyi.”
“Why,” Luo Qingyi says morosely. It’s decided. She will become one with this table so she doesn’t have to deal with Lan Wangji, her stupid crush on Jisoo, or any of her music practices for the rest of the semester. “How did we get to this conversation again?”
“Something about me attending his concerts?” Wei Wuxian prompts.
“Right,” Luo Qingyi sighs. She raises her head from the table. “I was just curious, because I don’t think the rumor mill knows that Lan Wangji is taken. And trust me when I say that some people are creepily invested in the lives of other people, so I was surprised that no one has managed to suss out that he’s dating you. Especially considering that you’re, you know,” she waves a hand for emphasis. “Famous.”
Wei Wuxian raises an eyebrow. “Not many people can recognize authors, even if it is someone with as pretty of a face as mine,” he says. What thick skin that man has. “You didn’t. Moreover, all of our friends and family attend Lan Wangji’s concert? Maybe they just lost me in the crowd. I’m sure I’ve given him a congratulatory kiss at the end before…” he muses.
Luo Qingyi shrugs. “No idea. I just figured that maybe you would want to break the hearts of a bunch of adoring creepers, one way or the other. You seem like the kind of person to enjoy it.”
“Well, I can’t blame anyone for noticing him,” Wei Wuxian grins, sliding further into Lan Wangji’s personal space. “What do you say, Lan Zhan? Should we give them a show?”
She watches in amazed horror as Lan Wangji’s ears turn slightly red. “Mn,” he says in agreement. Lan Wangji could blush, apparently. This was a day of many new revelations.
Well, she thinks amusedly as Wei Wuxian chatters on to Lan Wangji, at least this definitely got her mind off the whole reason she was free on a Saturday afternoon in the first place.
**
Luo Qingyi spots Jisoo first, in the crowd, her face half hidden by a massive bouquet of flowers. She tries her best to suppress her giddy smile as she makes her way over, but it comes out anyway. The crowd in the auditorium is beginning to empty out as friends and family surround the ones that they came to watch in the Music Department’s year-end concert, but she still has to weave around multiple groups of people to get to her friend. She sees Eric with a bunch of her other friends just a few rows down, but selfishly decides against waving them down for the moment. For a moment, she thinks she spots Lan Wangji’s distinctive straight-backed figure to her left, but Jisoo’s shouts drag her attention away before she can investigate further. Well, she could find him later.
“Luo Qingyi!” Jisoo greets her, beaming. “You sounded great!”
“I actually messed up a note in the middle,” Luo Qingyi admits. “So, I mean…”
“It’s not like any of us plebeians could hear,” Jisoo scoffs. “Plus, I was also watching you, and you didn’t mess up there. The flute is a very sexy instrument,” she says, in a faux-serious tone.
“That was not what you were saying when I was practicing in our apartment the other day,” Luo Qingyi says.
“Listen, I couldn’t hear my teammates over the sound of your flute playing, alright. Don’t come between a girl and her game of League.”
A shout draws both her and Jisoo’s gaze away from each other to a group of people clustered near one of the exits. Oh, so that was where Lan Wangji went? Now that she’s looking for it, she spots Wei Wuxian standing very close to him, surrounded by a myriad of other people. She recognizes some of them from the photos that Lan Wangji had, some of them presumably his family members. There’s someone who vaguely looks like he’d rather be anywhere but there, two very well-dressed women, one in red and the other purple, and another timid-looking man. Lan Wangji looks… comfortable, she supposes, more at ease than she’s used to seeing him look in a crowd. These are clearly his people.
Jisoo’s exaggerated, besotted sigh shakes her out of her thoughts. “His guqin performance was my second favorite thing about this concert. He always looks like a beautiful historical Chinese prince. Of course, nothing can compare to you.”
Luo Qingyi forces herself to laugh. “Don’t you have a man right now? You should be waxing poetic about him, not Lan Wangji.”
Jisoo shrugs. “I can still look, can’t I? Besides, I don’t think it’s going to work out with him. I get the feeling that he isn’t too serious, and that isn’t what I want right now. Plus, Lan Wangji is objectively very pretty. I’m just stating some facts.”
Luo Qingyi feels a little faint. She had thought that they were getting serious, considering that it had already been a month since they started dating, but well. “I’m sorry to hear that. You know you can tell me about these things, right?”
Jisoo doesn’t meet her eyes. “It doesn’t matter, I didn’t want to bother you with all that,” she says too nonchalantly. “Anyway—“ her eyes widen. “Oh my god.”
“What?” Luo Qingyi gets out, before turning around and looking back in the direction that Jisoo is looking in, which is at Lan Wangji. The group around him has spread out, all of them looking anywhere from exasperated to proud to delighted. At the center of it is Wei Wuxian, on one knee, facing Lan Wangji. Luo Qingyi thinks she hears Eric squeal somewhere to her right.
She can’t hear what they’re saying from this distance, but Lan Wangji doesn’t look at all surprised by this. Instead, he looks both incredibly fond and slightly put upon at the same time by all the attention being drawn to him. This wasn’t quite what she meant when she suggested that Wei Wuxian maybe make a scene so random people would stop asking his boyfriend out, but maybe it was a long time coming already, judging by their reactions. Wei Wuxian doesn’t even look a little bit nervous. There are people starting to look at them, their conversation dying down as everyone notices the proposal being made to the most famous person in their department. Jisoo doesn’t seem to be breathing as she clutches on to Luo Qingyi’s arm for emotional support.
“Is Lan Wangji getting married,” Jisoo gasps. “Who is that. Is that his boyfriend? He has a boyfriend? Qingyi. Qingyi. They’re beautiful.”
Luo Qingyi feels slightly bad from keeping this information from Jisoo for this long, but it’s also a little bit funny. As she watches, Lan Wangji gives the smallest nod, and Wei Wuxian very carefully slips the ring onto his finger before he flings himself at Lan Wangji, who catches him easily. There is a tiny, pleased smile on Lan Wangji’s face, and Wei Wuxian takes his face in his hand and kisses him soundly. One of the people in the group, the angry-looking man, says something and dramatically covers his eyes before the woman in purple smacks him on the head.
Some of the people watching begin to cheer as Wei Wuxian lets go of Lan Wangji, their group clustering together again. Luo Qingyi catches a glimpse of Lan Wangji’s slightly flushed expression before they sweep out the door, leaving half an auditorium’s worth of people very stunned and very confused.
Jisoo is still clutching onto her arm. “What the fuck just happened.”
“Jisoo, I have something to tell you,” Luo Qingyi says. “I’ve been friends with Lan Wangji for three months.”
“What,” Jisoo hisses, her grip on Luo Qingyi’s arm getting even tighter.
Luo Qingyi pauses, looking at the door that Lan Wangji just disappeared out of. She thinks of the way that they had looked at each other in the coffee shop, the way that Lan Wangji’s life was threaded through with his love for Wei Wuxian with his photographs, their home, all of the cute bunny charms that he had. The sweet way that Lan Wangji had orbited around Wei Wuxian’s every word, the quiet way that Wei Wuxian had fit into Lan Wangji’s space, as if it were more normal for them constantly be that close to each other than not. She thinks of how Lan Wangji had looked at her, his face understanding, when she told him about Jisoo. I know it is hard to be seen, she can hear him saying. In that moment, he had looked older than his fresh-faced early twenties. But it is the people we are closest to that deserve that, from us.
“I also have something else to tell you,” she says, and smiles.