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His eyes narrowed at Mao’er. He hadn’t seen her move, but he suspected she was plotting.
“Wei. Wuxian. Are you paying attention?”
He looked up at Jiang Cheng, offended. “Of course I am. You were talking about irrigation. Do I need to give you input on irrigation?”
He looked back at Mao’er. This time, she had definitely moved. Still sitting, but sitting...closer.
“First of all, I didn’t ask for your opinion on irrigation.” Jiang Cheng sounded dangerously calm. “Second of all, that was ten minutes ago. Lan-zongzhu asked for your report on how the Yunmeng Jiang juniors are progressing.”
Oh. Oops.
Wei Wuxian dragged his attention back to the meeting he had been forced to attend at Cloud Recesses. Well, “forced” might not be wholly accurate. He had been very nicely and very firmly asked to attend by Jiang Cheng, Lan Zhan and finally, da-baizi, with full Zewu-Jun formality. And everyone else was there, so he suspected it would have been considered rude if he had declined. Although, he thought, it was very unfair that Nie Huaisang seemed to be dozing behind a fan in the corner.
It wasn’t so much that he didn’t want to be there. He liked talking about the different training curriculums, and he was the only person who regularly taught in both Lotus Pier and Cloud Recesses. But these days, being around Jiang Cheng meant being around Mao’er. And Mao’er was—complicated.
Wei Wuxian was perfectly aware that giving Jiang Cheng a puppy had been his idea. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, and he had worked very hard to accept that dogs did not have to be the terrifying beasts of his nightmares. Mao’er had been one of Jin Ling’s prized husky puppies, so Wei Wuxian had been able to spend the first four months of her life petting her soft baby fur, feeding her pieces of meat from his fingers, and trying not to flinch when her tiny teeth playfully nipped his fingers. His heart had melted a little more every time she had rolled on her back, legs curled up for a belly rub. Jin Ling had even made Wei Wuxian teach her to sit and stay, explaining that it would help Wei Wuxian bond with her.
And oh, it had been worth it. There had been the smallest twinge of apprehension when he’d slid her into a basket to give to Jiang Cheng. But the look of hopeful love on Jiang Cheng’s face when he’d seen Mao’er for the first time had dissolved whatever trepidation Wei Wuxian harbored. It was one of the best moments of Wei Wuxian’s life, and not just because Jiang Cheng had cried.
Somehow, though, over the last year, puppy Mao’er had turned into adult Mao’er, and it worried him. No, she wasn’t big. She didn’t bite or snarl or try to steal his food. In fact, she was very well behaved, always glued to Jiang Cheng’s heel, moving when he moved, sitting when he stopped. But she was smart. Eerily smart.
For one thing, she could sword fly. Not on her own, of course, but in a moment of weakness, Wei Wuxian had made a flat platform that expanded like a fan and hooked to Sandu’s hilt. He never thought it would actually work, but of course, Mao’er turned out to be adept at balancing. Jiang Cheng took her everywhere with him, her nose always turning up to sniff the wind as they flew. It was unnatural.
And for another, she would carefully hold anything Jiang Cheng handed her until he asked for it back. He even let her carry Sandu once, glaring at Wei Wuxian when his mouth had dropped open in shock.
Most unnervingly, Wei Wuxian was sure she watched him when he wasn’t looking.
Today, she was inching closer to him, and he couldn’t figure out why. He’d only caught her doing it once, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that every time he looked away, she did this odd sitting scoot that moved her closer to him without ever standing up.
“Stop looking at my dog like that,” Jiang Cheng snapped, and Wei Wuxian blinked up at him, surprised by the sharp tone. It had been a long time since Jiang Cheng had seemed this upset with him.
“She’s moving toward me,” Wei Wuxian tried to explain, but it sounded ridiculous even to him.
“Of course she is.” Jin Ling smoothly interrupted Jiang Cheng’s growing annoyance, patient as always when it came to dogs. “She adores you.”
“But why?” Wei Wuxian asked, trying not to whine and failing. Next to him, he felt Lan Zhan’s tiny sigh.
Jiang Cheng was less subtle. “I can’t imagine,” he snorted. “But she’s trying to win you over. She did it with Huaisang too.”
Wei Wuxian grimaced, thinking Mao’er might have been more successful with Nie Huaisang if she hadn’t eaten so many fans when she was teething.
Jiang Cheng misinterpreted the expression and splotchy red indignation bloomed across his face. He stormed across the room, followed by Mao’er, to stand in front of Wei Wuxian, hands on his hips.
“How can you still be afraid of her? You picked her out! You trained her! You even got to name her! And you were never afraid of anyone else’s dogs until Fairy. Why is it just mine?”
The room got very, very quiet. Again, Wei Wuxian sensed Lan Zhan’s reaction, tension this time.
“What other dogs?” Wei Wuxian asked, confusion knitting his brows together.
Jiang Cheng exploded, shifting into outrage in the blink of an eye. “What do you mean, what other dogs? You live in Cloud Recesses with the country’s most famous dogs, and I have never once heard you complain about them!”
It did not seem possible, but the room got even quieter. Wei Wuxian felt the blood drain from his face as he turned to look at his beloved husband who would never, ever lie to him.
“Lan Zhan? What dogs?” Wei Wuxian’s voice cracked, and he could not believe the guilty look on Lan Zhan’s face.
“Wei Ying, I did not know you were afraid of dogs before...” Lan Zhan trailed off, a flush creeping up his neck. “Before you came back. You were here numerous times and did not seem bothered by them. But once I knew, we made sure you never had to be around them.”
The tone in Lan Zhan’s voice was almost like pleading.
“Laodie, the pekes live all the way over in Mengshi,” Jingyi added unhelpfully, as if Wei Wuxian had any idea what Mengshi was. “In the last four years, they’ve never caused you any trouble, so what difference does it make?”
Wei Wuxian shot out of his chair. “Show me. Now.”
Lan Zhan clearly did not want to, so in the end, da-baizi sighed and beckoned for Wei Wuxian to follow him down a twisting path toward the edge of the great forest. They ended up at the gate of a house he’d only ever seen from a distance and had always thought was empty. There were half a dozen golden, furry logs galloping around inside a fenced courtyard, their flat black noses snorting with enthusiasm. It wasn’t a particularly graceful or elegant run like Mao’er’s, more of a rolling waddle, and Wei Wuxian had a hard time believing these were dogs.
A Lan disciple was sitting in the yard with them, throwing a small wooden ball and ruffling the long hair of the animals whenever they got close to him. Wei Wuxian knew that disciple.
“A-Yuan?” Wei Wuxian didn’t yell, but he didn’t have to.
Sizhui glanced up and froze.
“Adie,” he started, jumping to his feet.
Wei Wuxian pointed a finger at him. “Don’t ‘adie’ me! You knew? This whole time? I thought pets weren’t allowed in Cloud Recesses!”
Sizhui paled and looked around nervously, waving his hands at the yard.
“Wei-qianbei, don't say that. These are not pets. These are Lan-laoshi’s award-winning Pekingese. Lans have bred Pekingese for so many generations, they are considered members of the family. Lan-laoshi has been teaching me the art of bloodlines and traits for breeding.”
Sizhui smiled fondly at one of the ridiculous things that had come over to pant on his feet. Wei Wuxian surrendered immediately, swayed by Sizhui’s obvious pride and affection.
“How did I miss this?” he asked, turning to Lan Zhan for some kind of answer. But when he was immediately distracted by the dark pools of Lan Zhan’s eyes, the slope of his nose, and the faint curve of his lips, he remembered that perhaps he didn’t spend quite as much time observing his surroundings as watching his husband’s face.
Jingyi patted his shoulder consolingly. “So now you know. Who cares?” He muttered under his breath, “They’re barely dogs anyway. Not like the Nie mastiffs.”
“Yeah!” Jiang Cheng was annoyed again, and Wei Wuxian was confused again. “You aren’t afraid of the Nie dogs either, and I know you see them all the time!”
“Nie Huaisang doesn’t have dogs?” He heard the question in his own voice.
Everyone turned to stare at him except Jiang Cheng, who grabbed his arm and dragged him over three decorative bridges, around one large koi pond, and down the hill to the Gusu Lan stables.
“I thought those were small horses,” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, peering at the shaggy animals Jiang Cheng pointed at.
Granted, he’d never looked at them that closely, but now that he thought about it, it was very strange for horses to be rolling around on the ground. And those did look more like paws than hooves.
But no.
Wait.
No.
“They have saddles. I’ve seen the saddles. I’ve seen your son ride them,” he accused Jiang Cheng, who did not look even remotely repentant.
“You didn’t think it was weird that Chifeng-Zun had miniature horses in his war room?” Jiang Cheng thundered, and Wei Wuxian looked at him blankly.
“No. Not really.” Everyone knew the former Nie zongzhu was crazy about horses.
They all paused for a moment until da-baizi laughed, the light music of his voice breaking the silence.
“That is exactly something Mingjue would have done,” he agreed with a wry smile.
Something occurred to Wei Wuxian, and he slumped heavily to the ground.
“Jin Zixuan’s dog statues? Those were real dogs, too?”
He didn’t even bother to look up at their reactions. Of course they were. Those fragile-looking sculptures with the silky crested ears that sat on decorative pillows had been alive, and he’d just never noticed. He shuddered. Thank the gods he’d never tried to touch one.
To his surprise, Jiang Cheng sat down next to him, bumping his shoulder.
“You really didn’t know? This whole time, all these years, I thought…” Jiang Cheng swallowed audibly, and Wei Wuxian looked at the damp corners of his brother’s eyes with dawning horror.
“I thought it was just me. That you just didn’t like dogs and you made a fuss because you didn’t want to live with them.” Jiang Cheng’s voice was low and hoarse. “I mean, it was fine because you were more…”
Wei Wuxian cut him off so he wouldn’t say something that would make them both cry in front of everyone they knew. “I really didn’t know.”
He felt something cold and wet under his hand and he moved his fingers, absently scratching a soft nose and velvety ears, thinking about all the stupid misunderstandings of the past. Would he ever stop finding things he needed to apologize for?
He looked back at Jiang Cheng, ready to say he was sorry. But Jiang Cheng was looking past him, a soft smile on his face. Wei Wuxian followed his gaze to his own hand resting on Mao’er’s head, a wide-open doggie grin on her face.
As soon as his eyes met hers, she licked his face and laid her head on his lap. He had to laugh. He had to. She had finally won.
He looked up into Lan Zhan’s face, overwhelmed by the love he always found there.
“Lan Zhan, I think we’re going to need to get a dog.”