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Wei Wuxian is harvesting a fresh batch of cabbages when it happens. As he gathers one of the heads in his hands and tugs it from the ground, he hears a quiet exclamation before something tumbles out from between the leaves. Startled, he drops the cabbage and stares at the tiny… man spluttering in the dampened soil at his feet.

“Hello,” Wei Wuxian greets the man, unsure of what else to do or say. The man is, it seems, approximately the size of Wei Wuxian’s thumb. He is also apparently quite offended at having been shaken out of his cabbage-leaf refuge.

Sitting back on his heels, Wei Wuxian stares down at the man and waits. Once the man has clambered to his feet and straightened out his now-dirt-encrusted white robes, he glares up at Wei Wuxian. It’s a very lethal glare for someone so very small.

“You destroyed my home,” the man says.

“Your home is my dinner,” Wei Wuxian replies. This does not impress the man, who huffs and turns on his heels before marching off across the field of crops.

Wei Wuxian watches the man for all of three seconds before he stands, takes one step, and blocks the man’s path. The man directs his glare up at him again, clenching his tiny fists. This might be intimidating if he was Wei Wuxian’s size. Instead , Wei Wuxian thinks it’s pretty adorable.

“Where are you off to, little fella?”

The man’s eyes darken. “Do not call me that.”

“Yikes, sorry,” Wei Wuxian says, crouching down slowly in front of the tiny man again. He holds his finger out, close enough for the man to reach out and touch yet not so close that the man could bite it if he were so inclined. Which Wei Wuxian, judging from the look on the man’s face, doesn’t doubt he is.

It takes a second, but finally the man relaxes his shoulders and reaches out with one hand to shake Wei Wuxian’s index finger. He looks so cute that Wei Wuxian can’t help but laugh quietly to himself at the sight. The man startles and immediately releases Wei Wuxian’s finger.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he says, making to walk around Wei Wuxian’s shoe.

Frowning, Wei Wuxian shifts his foot a little to the left and blocks the man’s way again. This earns him another frustrated huff.

“You are blocking my way,” the man says.

Wei Wuxian hums. “I’m aware. What’s your name?”

He cannot continue referring to the man as… well, the man. He’ll also be burnt up with curiosity if he lets the man leave now without hearing his name at the very least.

The man sighs, casts another forlorn look past Wei Wuxian’s shoe, and evidently gives in. “Lan Wangji,” he says quietly.

“Lan Wangji? That’s a cute name.”

Lan Wangji shoots him a harsh look. “Do not call me that,” he repeats.

“Don’t call you Lan Wangji? Or don’t call you cute?” Wei Wuxian rests his elbows against his knees and allows his chin to fall into his open palms, smiling widely down at Lan Wangji. “Because as far as I’m concerned, you’re both.”

That’s definitely a blush covering Lan Wangji’s ears. Or maybe his rage has just become too much for his little body to handle; Wei Wuxian would prefer if he didn’t explode in the middle of his cabbage patch, not only because he’d quite like to eat those cabbages, but also because, well, Lan Wangji really is very cute. It would be such a waste for a plethora of reasons, really.

“Well, never mind that, then. My name is Wei Wuxian. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Wei Wuxian,” Lan Wangji says, as though testing the name on his tongue. He hums. “You are still in my way.”

Wei Wuxian laughs. “What’s the rush, huh? Do you have somewhere important to be? Stay here for a while, let’s get to know each other. I’ll cut up some watermelon extra small for you.”

Lan Wangji ponders this for a moment. “Will you move out of my way if I refuse?”

“Maybe,” Wei Wuxian says, pouting. He feels himself deflate the smallest amount.

Another pause, followed by a quiet sigh. Then: “Alright, fine. You’ll have to pick me up. Gently.”

Beaming, Wei Wuxian rests his hand palm-up on the soil. “Of course! Climb aboard.”

Lan Wangji only hesitates for a moment more before carefully stepping up onto Wei Wuxian’s palm, holding onto his pinky for support. Each step he takes over Wei Wuxian’s skin tickles. He has to bite his lip to keep from laughing as he stands, cradling Lan Wangji as gently as possible.

He picks up the basket at his feet that he’s filled with cabbages and takes off, crossing row after row of vegetables sticking leaf-side-up from the ground. He almost treads on a few carrots, only barely managing to right himself before dropping any of his precious cargo. When he finally steps out of the field and into the safety of his smaller herb garden, he breathes a sigh of relief.

After checking over a few of his basil and thyme plants, he finally nods in satisfaction and makes his way over to the back door of his home. He steps out of his shoes and shakes off the remnants of mud from his clothes as best as he can without jostling Lan Wangji, then finally pushes his door open and enters.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” he says, dropping the basket of cabbages onto the counter beside him before gesturing to the rest of his living space. It’s small but cosy, and warm in the winter; in other words, it’s perfect. The kitchen he’s entered from outside is cramped, yet clean and practical. The living room beyond it is messy, every surface littered with books and scrolls, but it’s liveable. Wei Wuxian loves it all.

“You live alone?” Lan Wangji asks, peering around the room with mild curiosity. The room must look so much bigger from his perspective. Wei Wuxian wonders if Lan Wangji is worrying that he feels lonely in the space it provides.

“Yep. Just me, myself, and I.” He stops at the desk he keeps pushed against the wall of his living room and rests his hand upon it, allowing Lan Wangji to climb down. “Can I get you a drink? Anything to eat? A… folded handkerchief to sit on?”

From his new spot on the desk, Lan Wangji releases an exasperated sigh. “I suppose some water would be nice.”

Wei Wuxian raises his hand in a mock salute. “One small saucer of water coming right up!”

He makes his way back to the kitchen, half-heartedly tidying things up from the floor as he goes. It’s a pointless exercise, for he knows that the room will be a mess again as soon as Lan Wangji leaves, but it isn’t often that Wei Wuxian is visited by anyone other than his siblings and he’d quite like to make a good first impression. Besides, who knows? Maybe Lan Wangji will want to come visit him again someday. In that case, Wei Wuxian should try to impress him as much as he can.

He fills a small dish with water, but even that seems too big for the tiny man standing atop his desk. It’s not like Wei Wuxian has much else to offer—he’s really never met someone as small as Lan Wangji—so it will just have to do, for now. He carries the dish carefully back into his living room and sets it down on the desk beside Lan Wangji.

“Here,” he says.

“Thank you.” Lan Wangji glances at the dish, but doesn’t yet try to drink from it. It’s probably for the best, Wei Wuxian decides.

“So, uh,” he begins, considering his next words as best he can. The last thing he wants to do is accidentally offend Lan Wangji again. “What, um. Are you—”

“I’ve been cursed,” Lan Wangji explains.

Wei Wuxian nods and feels the tension in his shoulders dissipate. “Ah, right. Well, you’re in luck,” he says, grinning down at Lan Wangji. “I happen to know a few things about curses. I can help you out, if you’d like.”

“You know a few things?”

“Sure. My mother dealt with curses a lot, you see. She passed all her books down to me when she—um. Anyway, I know a few things.”

Thankfully, Lan Wangji either doesn’t notice the stumble in his words or chooses to ignore it.

“It wouldn’t hurt to try, I suppose.”

Wei Wuxian grins. “Great! Stay here, I’ll get the materials.”

The books from his mother are kept in a box beneath his bed; a little added security, just in case. It only takes him a few moments to find them, and once he’s checked over their spines and sorted them into two piles—useful and, in this case, not so useful—he takes what he needs and returns to the living room.

Lan Wangji is sitting patiently atop the wooden handle of an ink brush when Wei Wuxian returns. He stands as Wei Wuxian places the books down on top of his desk and takes a seat, stretching his legs out and resting his weight on one arm.

“You should sit properly,” Lan Wangji says with a frown. “You will be more comfortable and will therefore work more efficiently that way.”

Wei Wuxian rolls his eyes, but quietly obeys. He takes the first book from his pile, labelled Spells and Other Magical Tricks, and runs his fingers absentmindedly over its spine as he speaks.

“Right, so, first I’ll need to know a bit about the curse itself. Obviously it’s some sort of body modification curse, which is generally pretty easy to combat.” He pauses. “Of course, that all depends on who cursed you.”

From the look on Lan Wangji’s face, Wei Wuxian suspects that he already knows the answer.

“The mountains where I live are teeming with fairies,” Lan Wangji says. “I believe I may have angered some of them accidentally when dealing with a troubled water nymph.”

Wei Wuxian grins and waggles his finger in the air teasingly. “There’s a story to be heard there.”

“A long one," Lan Wangji replies bluntly. "I do not have time to tell you.”

Wei Wuxian raises a brow. It seems a lot like Lan Wangji just doesn’t want to tell this story. Perhaps it’s embarrassing, then. Wei Wuxian has to suppress a laugh at the thought.

“Well. A summary, then.”

Lan Wangji clears his throat and glances away. “Fairies do not appreciate their homes being flooded by crying water nymphs,” he says quietly. “They angrily demanded that I put myself in their shoes, and—well.”

“Ah.” Wei Wuxian winces. “But that flood was on the water nymph, not you!”

“I was the one to make her cry.”

Wei Wuxian gasps. “Scandalous! Lan Wangji, are you secretly a heartbreaker?”

“Ridiculous,” Lan Wangji says, turning that signature glare on him again.

“But you made her cry!”

“This is a waste of my time.” Lan Wangji stands, determinedly avoiding eye contact.

“No, no! I’m sorry, please stay,” Wei Wuxian says, as if Lan Wangji would actually be able to go anywhere. “Here, there’s a section on fairies in this book.”

The desk shakes a little when he plonks the aforementioned book down onto it—not enough to be noticeable to himself usually, but Wei Wuxian can’t say that he usually has tiny guests perched on the desk’s surface. As it is, the impact of the book meeting the desk is enough to send Lan Wangji toppling over. He flails, but Wei Wuxian is fast. He snags the edge of Lan Wangji’s robes and pulls him upright, ignoring the glare on the other man’s face. It’s rather easy to become accustomed to such a look, especially when the person glaring is smaller than most of Wei Wuxian’s fingers.

“Whoops! Sorry about that,” he says, grinning sheepishly. He receives a frustrated sigh in response.

“Please be more careful. I am not used to being so small.”

The words catch Wei Wuxian off-guard, and he can’t help but laugh. “I can imagine.” He flips the front cover of the book and scans its contents, then makes a noise of satisfaction. “Alright, here. This chapter is about malevolent spells and curses.”

“The curse is inconvenient, but it is not harming me. I do not think it would be classified as malevolent.”

“Alright, fine. We’ll look through this chapter, and then we’ll read the chapter about harmless spells and tricks. Does that sound good?”

Lan Wangji pauses briefly to consider this deal. “I suppose so.”

Well, that’s clearly as much of an agreement as Wei Wuxian is going to get, so he’ll take it. He flips a few pages in the chapter on malevolent spells before coming to a stop, scanning the page he’s landed on about spells affecting the physical appearance. There are a few passages about missing limbs, another few about extra limbs, and one short passage on body switching. Nothing, however, has been written about shrinking.

He sighs, flipping to the next page. This one doesn’t have much to offer either—there’s information about a curse that switches a person’s fingernails with their teeth, which makes Wei Wuxian gag a little. But still nothing about shrinking.

“Well, I don’t think there’s anything in this book,” he says, slamming it shut and making to pick up the next. However, he’s stopped by a dissatisfied noise from Lan Wangji.

“You have hardly looked,” he accuses, frowning. “It is not sufficient to only read the relevant chapters. What if there is unexpectedly some information about my curse in an entirely different part of the book?”

Wei Wuxian highly doubts that there would be information on a body shrinking curse in the chapter about voice-altering curses—his mother didn’t do things half-heartedly, and he knows that she would not organise her information so badly—but he also doesn’t wish to argue with Lan Wangji. The man is clearly already under enough stress without Wei Wuxian causing even more trouble for him.

Reluctantly, he opens up the book once more. This time, he starts at the first chapter. It’ll take them forever this way, he knows, but maybe it won’t be so bad. As long as his guest is happy, he supposes that’s all that matters.

“Alright, how about this,” he says, angling the book so that Lan Wangji is able to read it, too. “You read the left page, and I’ll read the right. That way, we’ll get the same amount of research done in only half the time!”

Lan Wangji seems to weigh his options for a moment, before finally nodding. “I suppose that would work.”

Relieved, Wei Wuxian begins reading the first page. As he’d suspected, there’s nothing written here about body modification spells in general, let alone one as specific as shrinking. He perseveres anyway, not wanting to disappoint an eagerly-waiting Lan Wangji beside him. When he’s finally finished with the first page, he shakes his head and turns to the next.

They settle into a routine, after that. It takes slightly longer for Lan Wangji to read than it does for Wei Wuxian, as the words are printed larger from the former’s perspective. He has to turn his entire head to read a single sentence, even after Wei Wuxian has helpfully propped the book up against the rest of the pile for easier access. Each time Lan Wangji finishes a page, he glances expectantly up at Wei Wuxian, who obediently turns to the next.

It doesn’t take long before Wei Wuxian becomes restless. Only an hour has passed since the two of them began their research, and already he’s given up on sitting properly. He ignores Lan Wangji’s unimpressed glare at this, instead trying to focus on his reading, but soon the words are swimming in front of his eyes and his head begins to ache. Eventually, he has no choice but to sit back and just breathe for a while, blinking away the haziness in his eyes.

He finds himself, then, watching Lan Wangji. It’s fascinating, really, watching someone so small. Wei Wuxian doesn’t know how long Lan Wangji has been suffering under this curse, but he commands his tiny body so well that Wei Wuxian would think he was born this way if he didn’t already know better. There’s something graceful in the way Lan Wangji moves, in the way he holds himself—all regal and, frankly, magical. Wei Wuxian almost doesn’t want to imagine what Lan Wangji is like when he’s a regular-sized man. Would he be taller than Wei Wuxian? Would his grace and beauty remain? Would these things only intensify?

He really can’t bear to think about it, so he shakes his head and simply watches. Lan Wangji has evidently finished reading his page again and has tired of waiting for Wei Wuxian to help him—he attempts to turn a page by himself, but he struggles under the weight of the paper with arms so small. Wei Wuxian smiles softly before helping him, to which he receives a grateful, if exasperated, nod.

“So tell me, Lan Wangji,” Wei Wuxian says a moment later, no longer able to help himself. “What was your plan of action before we crossed paths?”

“You mean before you flung me into the dirt?” Lan Wangji asks, finally taking a pause in his reading.

Wei Wuxian waves a hand in the air nonchalantly. “Semantics. You’re still cute when you’re trying to be feisty, by the way.”

Lan Wangji rolls his eyes. “I’d planned on travelling east of here. My brother informed me of a doctor not too far from here who might be able to help solve my… predicament.”

“Huh, okay. Wait—you have a brother?”

“I do.”

“And he didn’t come with you?” Wei Wuxian suddenly feels angered on Lan Wangji’s behalf—having to travel across the country alone in his current state must be more difficult than anyone could ever imagine, not to mention risky. He tells Lan Wangji as much. “Surely it’s dangerous for you to travel alone. You’re so small!”

“My brother has important duties to attend to back home. And I can take care of myself perfectly well, thank you,” Lan Wangji says, as if this fact is irrefutable. And, well—he has made it this far.

“Alright, I don’t doubt that,” Wei Wuxian admits. Then, in a bid to change the subject: “So, what was the doctor’s name? The one your brother told you about.”

Lan Wangji tilts his head in thought. After a short pause, he says, “Wen, I believe.”

“Wen? As in Wen Qing?” Wei Wuxian’s jaw drops. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? She’s my friend, you know.”

“The two of you are acquainted?”

“Sure we are! She and I go way back, and I’ve known her little brother even longer than I’ve known her. Sometimes I even babysit their cousin.”

Lan Wangji nods, seemingly satisfied with this answer. “Then you can take me to see her,” he says, clearly having made up his mind on the matter.

However, Wei Wuxian merely laughs and shakes his head. “Ah, that won’t be necessary. No need to bother the Wens! I’m sure we’ll find a perfectly suitable solution right here.”

Lan Wangji frowns but doesn’t argue. Wei Wuxian decides to take that as the other man secretly having faith in his abilities.

They resume their reading—well, Lan Wangji does. Wei Wuxian finds himself more and more bored by the minute, and takes to secretly wondering about the smaller man in silence. What town is he from? He mentioned earlier that he lived in the mountains; that narrows it down a little, but he could still be from any number of places in the east where the peaks lie. What does he do for a living? What other family does he have apart from his brother? What sorts of things is Lan Wangji interested in?

Wei Wuxian has always been an inquisitive man who likes to make conversation. He doesn’t get the chance to chat with passersby often, nor does he have many guests stay with him. His siblings visit every now and then, of course, but their conversations always circle back to Jiang Yanli’s growing family or Jiang Cheng’s work. Wei Wuxian is always craving for something interesting and new—so when he meets a stranger, it’s difficult to refrain from asking them a multitude of things. He’s held back on Lan Wangji so far due to the pressing matter of his curse, but he finds himself fit to burst if he doesn’t make conversation soon. He clears his throat and starts off with something easy.

“So, uh. What do you do when you aren’t travelling the country looking for a way to break your curse?”

Lan Wangji doesn’t respond for a few seconds, evidently to finish reading a sentence. Finally, he drags his gaze away from the page and settles it on Wei Wuxian instead. “I am a Helper of Magical Creatures,” he says. Then, as if to clarify: “I aid them when they are in need.”

Wei Wuxian knows what sort of work being a Helper of Magical Creatures entails. All sorts of people become Helpers, for all sorts of reasons. Some say it’s fulfilling, being able to help those in need. Some say it’s interesting, learning new things about other magical species. Some say it’s a lacklustre job, for magical creatures are always getting into the same predicaments; for example, fairies are always getting their homes trodden on by humans, and nymphs are always getting lost due to their poor sense of direction. Thinking of nymphs, Wei Wuxian can’t help but snort.

“You don’t do a particularly good job of helping creatures, by the sound of things,” he teases, watching Lan Wangji’s eyebrows furrow. “You made a water nymph cry.”

“I wish you’d forget about me telling you that,” Lan Wangji says, appearing rather affronted.

Wei Wuxian chuckles. “Never. So, a Helper, huh? Family business?”

Lan Wangji hums. “The Lans have been Helpers for many decades.”

“That’s cool. My mother was a Helper—for a while at least. Then she moved here after meeting my father. That’s when she wrote all these books.” He pats the book they’ve been reading for emphasis, feeling a little pride ignite in his chest.

“What did your father do?”

“Oh, he was one of those data collectors. You know the ones. They go around figuring out where magical creatures live, how many of them there are in one spot, what they eat—well, it sounds boring and useless when I try to describe it like this.”

Lan Wangji frowns. “Not at all. It is a vital job. Without that data, we Helpers would not know how to safely proceed with our work. Even the most seemingly-meaningless of jobs have purpose in this world.”

“I guess so,” Wei Wuxian says. He isn’t sure why, but the sincerity in Lan Wangji’s words has brought about a tinge of warmth to his cheeks. He clears his throat and decides to ignore it. “Well, anyway, it was my father’s boss—Jiang Fengmian—who adopted me after my parents died. I lived with the Jiangs until I was old enough to come back and restore my parents’ home. Don't get me wrong, I loved being with my siblings all the time. Jiang Cheng and jiejie are amazing. But this felt more like home.”

Thankfully, Lan Wangji doesn’t ask about his parents’ deaths. Instead, he asks, “For how long did you live with the Jiangs?”

“Eight years, roughly. Maybe nine.”

“What do you do now?”

“Ah, I’m but a humble farmer.” Usually, upon admitting this, he might feel a little ashamed or inadequate. However, he thinks back to Lan Wangji’s words from just a few moments ago, and instead finds himself smiling with pride. “Sure, I find magical creatures interesting, but I prefer to simply read about them rather than work with them.”

“Will you farm for the rest of your life?” Lan Wangji asks. Wei Wuxian almost winces; he’s been asked this question by his brother before, too. Though, unlike Jiang Cheng, Lan Wangji doesn’t seem to hold any judgement. He simply sounds curious.

“Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows? Something new might come along someday. Perhaps I’ll even invent something new to do. The world is constantly changing; a few decades ago, we didn’t know that most of the magical creatures we’ve come to love today even existed. The future is unpredictable like that.”

Lan Wangji seems pleasantly surprised by his answer. He gives a firm nod before turning back to the page open in front of him.

However, Wei Wuxian is far from willing to leave their conversation there. He leans in closer and says, almost tauntingly, “Say, Lan Wangji. That’s your courtesy name, right?”

Lan Wangji freezes, as if having been caught with his hands in a sweet jar. He doesn’t answer the question. Wei Wuxian grins.

“Ah, so it is. What’s your given name, then? We’re so close now, after all. We ought to be more familiar with each other!”

“We are not close,” Lan Wangji immediately counters.

Wei Wuxian gasps. “What do you mean? Of course we’re close! We’re even reading together, sitting side-by-side on a hot summer’s day. One could even say we’re friends, now.”

“We have known one another for less than a few hours.”

“Oh, come on, Lan Wangji! A few hours can make or break a relationship!” He pouts and flutters his eyelashes, putting on the act that usually gets him whatever he wants from Jiang Yanli and, conversely, never fails to earn him a punch to the arm from Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing. “Tell me, please? I’ll even tell you mine—isn’t that a good deal?”

Lan Wangji looks as though he really couldn’t care less about what Wei Wuxian’s given name is, but this does the complete opposite of deterring Wei Wuxian. He leans in closer to the smaller man, tilting his head with hope shining in his eyes. Finally, Lan Wangji’s eyes flutter closed and he sighs.

“Fine. You first.”

Of course, he could be tricking Wei Wuxian into telling him his given name without having any intention to tell Wei Wuxian his own. However, he doesn’t seem like the sort of man who would deceive others. Wei Wuxian puffs out his chest, feeling victorious, and says, “Okay! You can call me Wei Ying.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says, as if tasting the name on his tongue. His expression doesn’t give away much of his thoughts, nor does his tone of voice, so Wei Wuxian can’t tell whether Lan Wangji likes his name. He also isn’t too sure why it matters to him that he does.

“That’s right! And you are?”

Lan Wangji sighs one last time, then says, “Lan Zhan.”

It would be an understatement to say that Wei Wuxian is delighted. Lan Zhan, he thinks, unable to contain the grin that stretches across his face. What an adorable name. It suits you!

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it, Lan Zhan?” Then, because he simply can’t help himself: “Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan.”

The look on Lan Wangji’s face now is one of deep suffering. Once again, he turns around to focus his attention back on the book open in front of them—but not before Wei Wuxian spots the blush on his ears.

The two of them continue reading for a little while longer, though Wei Wuxian would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little distracted by the thought of the other man’s blush. Despite the icy facade Lan Wangji puts on, Wei Wuxian really can’t help but to think of him as incomparably adorable. He finds himself, more often than not over the following half-an-hour, biting his lip to keep himself from grinning.

Though they haven’t known each other for very long, Wei Wuxian is certain that he’d like to be friends with Lan Wangji. He’s been intrigued by him since the moment they met in-between the rows of cabbages out in his field, and not only because of the effects of Lan Wangji’s curse. He just seems like an interesting person in general—Wei Wuxian is itching to know more about him.

Suddenly, he straightens in his seat as realisation dawns on him. “Ah! I promised you some watermelon, didn’t I?”

He stands before Lan Wangji can protest and makes his way to the kitchen. He hears a tiny sigh from the desk as he retrieves half of a watermelon from his cool-room—a simple collection of cooling spells does a sufficient job of preserving foods for a few days, but he takes pride in having perfected these spells further to keep things fresh for up to a week—and sets it down on the counter with a thud. He finds a sharp knife and a small dish, then begins cutting the melon into cubes the size of the nail on his pinky.

Each small cube is loaded onto the dish, until he has a pile of juicy watermelon suitable enough for Lan Wangji to eat. Satisfied, he leaves the knife in his sink and stores away the rest of the fruit before taking the dish back to his desk. He sets it down as carefully as possible, smiling all the while.

Lan Wangji stares up at him and utters a quiet, “Thank you.”

“Don’t eat it too quickly,” Wei Wuxian warns, a fond smile on his lips as he sits down. “We wouldn’t want you choking, now, would we?”

Lan Wangji looks as though he’d quite like to roll his eyes, but he obediently takes a small cube of watermelon and bites into the corner, chewing slowly. He hums in satisfaction. Watermelon juice drips onto the hem of his robes, but he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. They're already so dirty anyway, so Wei Wuxian thinks that it's likely a case of the latter.

Watching him, Wei Wuxian feels a spark of something ignite in his chest. Maybe it’s because Lan Wangji is so adorable, nibbling quietly on the melon while his tiny hands become sticky with juice. Wei Wuxian has to fight down the urge to audibly coo. His hands clench atop his lap as he refrains from reaching out to poke at Lan Wangji’s round, pink-stained cheeks.

Meanwhile, Lan Wangji has finished swallowing his first cube of watermelon and, clearly hungrier than he first thought, reaches out for another. Only, this time, the cube is slightly bigger and heavier than the first; Lan Wangji struggles to lift it, and in the blink of an eye he’s toppling backwards once again. He flails, dropping the cube of watermelon, but it’s too late—he cannot stop himself from falling straight into the little dish of water Wei Wuxian had poured for him earlier, landing with a plop.

Wei Wuxian gasps and reaches out, but there’s nothing that can be done. Lan Wangji coughs and splutters, his robes drenched and his hair dripping. He tries to regain his footing, but slips right back into the dish for a second time. Wincing, Wei Wuxian gently lifts him out of the dish by his collar and sets him back onto his feet atop the desk.

“Oh no! Lan Zhan, you’re all wet,” he says. His fingers twitch, as if they desperately want to do something to help the situation.

Lan Wangji huffs angrily. “Yes, Wei Ying. I am aware of that.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry. Here, let me just—ah, how should we do this? Should I just hang you up on a peg to dry?”

Lan Wangji does not deign that with an answer, but his glare is telling enough. Wei Wuxian grins sheepishly and hurries to fetch a flannel from beside the sink in his kitchen.

“At least your clothes shrunk with you when you were cursed. Imagine how awkward it would’ve been finding robes in your size otherwise.”

Lan Wangji still does not answer. He takes the flannel from Wei Wuxian’s outstretched hand upon his return and dabs at his own face and hair, trying his best to dry himself, though his robes continue to drip with water. Wei Wuxian slides a slip of paper out from beneath the ink holder at the corner of his desk and dabs his index finger into the ink, before drawing a basic heating spell onto the paper’s surface. Then he lays the paper down onto the desk and gestures for Lan Wangji to sit on it. When he does, the effects are instantaneous; the hems of his robes dry immediately, and Lan Wangji cannot help but breathe out a small sigh of relief at the warmth that greets him.

As Wei Wuxian watches him cough quietly a few more times and struggle to keep his eyes open, he smiles. Thinking back on it, they’ve been reading for a few hours now. Not only that, he did accidentally wake Lan Wangji this morning. Combined with the unexpected dive Lan Wangji just took, the day’s events must have really taken their toll on him. After all, it’s not as if he currently has as much energy as he would normally have if he was full-sized.

“You must be exhausted,” Wei Wuxian finally says. “I can’t even imagine what life would be like in a body that small, even if only for a short while. Why don’t you try to get some sleep? I’ll keep looking, I promise.”

Lan Wangji stubbornly shakes his head and, now that his robes are almost dry, climbs to his feet. “I would like to continue looking, too.”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says exasperatedly, “I can see your eyes drooping.”

“They are not,” Lan Wangji insists as his eyes flutter closed for the umpteenth time.

Wei Wuxian bites back a fond laugh. “Go on. Lay down. Rest for a while. I promise I, as well as the books, will still be here when you wake up.”

Lan Wangji makes a contemplative noise before finally giving in. “Fine. Where shall I sleep?”

“Huh, good question. I can’t say I usually have a bed made for guests your size.”

“Some hospitality this is.”

Wei Wuxian gasps, delighted beyond all reason. “You just made fun of me! Lan Zhan, you’re without a doubt the most adorable and fascinating person I’ve ever met.”

Lan Wangji makes a peculiar noise, as if choking. His ears tinge red again. “I will sleep over there.”

He turns in a random direction, but Wei Wuxian stops him from fleeing by pinning his robes to the desk with his pinky.

“Stay, stay. You can… sleep here!” He points down to the palm of his left hand, wiggling his fingers for emphasis.

Lan Wangji glances down at Wei Wuxian’s offered palm and sighs. “Do I have any other options?”

Wei Wuxian ponders the question for a moment. The truth is, he really doesn’t have many places for Lan Wangji to sleep. He’d probably suffocate if he tried to sleep in Wei Wuxian’s bed, and there’s nowhere else that’s comfortable and warm enough. He supposes he really could grab that handkerchief he mentioned earlier for Lan Wangji to curl up on, but it still really wouldn’t be as comfortable as his hand.

“No,” he finally says, shaking his head with finality. “There’s nowhere else you could possibly sleep. It’s either my hand, or nothing.”

Reluctantly, Lan Wangji climbs up onto Wei Wuxian’s palm. He lays back until his head rests against the area just beneath Wei Wuxian’s fingers. His back is ramrod straight, and he crosses his arms atop his chest as if waiting to be lowered six feet into the ground. Wei Wuxian can’t help but let out a loud snort at the sight, and he gently nudges the pointer finger of his other hand into Lan Wangji’s side.

“Do you really sleep like that?”

“Like what?” Lan Wangji asks, clearly aggrieved.

“Like you’re lying in a coffin,” Wei Wuxian says. When Lan Wangji simply blinks an eye open to stare at him blankly, he clarifies: “Like you’re dead.”

“It is the optimal way to sleep,” Lan Wangji deadpans, closing his eyes once more. “Will you let me rest, or will you continue to bother me?”

Wei Wuxian shakes his head with a soft laugh. “Sorry. Please, sleep as much as you need.”

As Lan Wangji drifts off in his hand, he turns back to the book and continues to read. Well, he doesn’t so much read as he does scan through each page—but it’s the thought that counts, and he’ll know when he stumbles across something worthwhile, anyway. He manages to work at a slightly faster pace alone, as he no longer has to wait those extra few seconds for Lan Wangji to finish reading before he flips to the next page. Though, now that he doesn’t have Lan Wangji reading beside him, the research becomes even more boring than before.

Wei Wuxian forces himself to read for a few more minutes before finally giving up. With a sigh, he slumps in his chair and closes his eyes for a few moments, shaking his mind free from the multitude of new spells and curses that have been engraved into it over the last few hours. When he finally opens his eyes again, he happens to glance directly down at his palm.

Despite falling asleep with his back straight and his front facing upwards, Lan Wangji has unconsciously moved since Wei Wuxian last checked up on him. Now, he’s curled on his side with one leg crossed over the other and both arms stretched outwards. He probably doesn’t even realise that his own body has betrayed him in this way, lying in such a laughable position. Wei Wuxian wonders if he’ll unknowingly return to his original position before he wakes up, so that he’ll never be aware of how improper he appeared in the midst of his sleep. He has to force down a laugh at the thought.

Afraid that Lan Wangji might get cold, Wei Wuxian picks up the paper with the heating spell drawn onto it from earlier and lays it across the smaller man’s body. However, not even a full second passes before Lan Wangji grumbles and kicks his leg up into the air, launching the piece of paper off of Wei Wuxian’s hand. Wei Wuxian bites his lip to stop his sudden laugh from tumbling forth, then retrieves the paper and crumples it before throwing it to the side.

Though he still has so much work to do, he now finds himself unable to tear his gaze away from the man curled atop his hand. Like this, he can see the steady rise and fall of Lan Wangji’s chest. Puffs of air, barely noticeable, flutter over Wei Wuxian’s fingers as the smaller man breathes. There’s a dull, rhythmic beating—thud, thud, thud—over his palm, and it takes him a second to realise that it’s Lan Wangji’s heartbeat. It reverberates through Wei Wuxian’s hand, syncing perfectly with his own pulse. It’s captivating.

He doesn’t even realise until a moment later that he’s already laid his own head down atop his other arm, bringing his face closer to his hand and therefore closer to a sleeping Lan Wangji. The tiny man’s face is squished up against the fat of his palm, and the sight is so adorable that it makes Wei Wuxian’s chest clench.

“Lan Zhan ah, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian whispers, grinning. “You really are too cute for words. Are you sleeping well? You look like you are.”

As expected, he doesn’t receive a response. Lan Wangji sighs softly as he sleeps, sending warmth coursing through Wei Wuxian’s entire body.

“Too cute, too cute. Lan Zhan is too cute,” he mumbles. He tries to stifle a yawn, but in the end he isn’t victorious.

The last thing he remembers before he falls asleep is the sight of Lan Wangji just centimetres away, unconsciously reaching out for something and burrowing himself further into Wei Wuxian’s palm.

He wakes an indeterminable amount of time later, bleary-eyed and with a crick in his neck. Groaning, he stretches and blinks until his eyelids no longer feel sticky with sleep. When he finally feels less groggy, he frowns at the sensation of something tickling his hand. It’s then that he remembers Lan Wangji, who is currently tapping his foot impatiently on Wei Wuxian’s palm.

“G’morning,” Wei Wuxian says.

“It is mid-afternoon,” Lan Wangji replies bluntly.

Wei Wuxian shrugs. “Same difference.”

“You fell asleep.”

“I did. Sorry about that.”

“I found a spell to break the curse while you were sleeping.”

Wei Wuxian's eyes widen. “Oh! Well, that’s great. Let me see.”

Lan Wangji finally steps down from his palm and walks over to the book the two of them had been reading before. Evidently, he’s read a lot more while Wei Wuxian has been sleeping, which makes him feel kind of guilty considering how much trouble Lan Wangji had been having simply turning the pages before. The smaller man taps his hand pointedly on the left-hand page a few times, and Wei Wuxian carefully pulls the book closer to take a better look, nudging Lan Wangji gently out of the way to settle the book down flat on the desk.

With a huff, Lan Wangji clambers up onto the book with only some difficulty. He settles himself, cross-legged, at the top of the page to watch as Wei Wuxian reads through the spell.

All in all, it’s actually a pretty simple spell. Lan Wangji has been hit with a shrinking curse, so of course the way to counteract that is to use an enlarging spell; at first glance, it doesn’t seem like there will be too many side-effects associated with this particular one. Wei Wuxian wouldn’t want the spell to hurt Lan Wangji at all, so it’s reassuring to know that this spell won’t harm him.

Most body modification spells he’s seen have involved ingestion of something, and this one is no different. They’ll have to make a cocktail, of sorts—it’ll likely taste vile, but Lan Wangji will have no choice but to stomach it if he wants to return to his regular size. Reading through the ingredients, though, Wei Wuxian spots a slight problem.

“We might have to pay Wen Qing a visit, after all,” he says quietly.

Lan Wangji stares up at him questioningly. “Why? The spell seems simple enough. Is there a problem?”

“Not with the spell itself,” Wei Wuxian explains. “It’s easy to make and safe to use. However, I don’t have any of the ingredients we need.”

“Ah,” Lan Wangji says, understanding immediately. Being a doctor, of course Wen Qing would keep all of the ingredients that Wei Wuxian is missing. There are some pretty rare things on that list, but if anyone has them, it'll be Wen Qing.

He sighs, resigning himself to the journey ahead. “Well, I guess we should get ready,” he says.

Nodding, Lan Wangji hops down from the book with newfound vigour. He waits patiently atop the desk while Wei Wuxian takes another slip of paper from beneath his ink holder and copies down the ingredients they need, as well as the instructions to make the spell. Normally, he might just tear the page from the book completely. This particular book, however, is his mother’s, and is therefore incomparably precious to him.

With the spell copied, he blows on the ink until it dries before folding the paper and slipping it into his robes. He then stands and makes his way into the kitchen; if he’s going to make this journey for Lan Wangji’s sake, he may as well take some things for the Wens. He picks up the basket of cabbages he’d carried in from the field earlier, removing all but three of the round heads. There’s also a bottle of fine wine on the counter that he’d been planning on sharing with his siblings the next time they visit, but he supposes it’ll be better suited to today’s plans. He picks it up, sighs forlornly, then nestles it into the basket between the cabbages.

Next, he carries the basket back into the living room and crosses to a particular corner full of old wooden chests. These are filled with all sorts of keepsakes: spells, ornaments he’d picked up on his past travels, gifts from his siblings, and other items he has no current use for but doesn’t yet want to get rid of. The journey from his farm to the Wens’ residence usually lasts an hour on foot, but he can tell that Lan Wangji is practically vibrating with apprehension despite his external display of patience. So, he spends a few moments rifling through one of these chests, until he finally finds what he needs.

The paper he pulls from within the chest is already covered in unintelligible writing, faded from previous use. He waves the paper once in the air to see the writing shimmer; satisfied that the spell will still work, he returns to the desk with all of his supplies in hand.

“Ready?” he asks, though he already knows the answer he’ll receive.

As expected, Lan Wangji nods. “Ready.”

Wei Wuxian hooks the basket of cabbages over his elbow, then holds out his hand for Lan Wangji to climb onto. Once he’s safely settled on his palm, Wei Wuxian says, “This might make you feel a little dizzy. Make sure you hold on tight.”

Then, without awaiting an answer, he sends a wave of energy through his arm and into the slip of paper he holds. The paper stands taut between his fingers, and the writing begins to glow a dazzling gold. In the blink of an eye, the living room warps and shifts around them. Wei Wuxian closes his eyes for one second, two, then opens them again.

The scenery around them has completely changed; now, rather than being greeted by the sight of his desk and floor littered with books and trinkets, he sees grass stretching in every direction. To their left is a modest cottage. Smoke drifts lazily from the chimney, amalgamating with the clouds above their heads.

In his hand, Lan Wangji stumbles slightly but doesn’t complain. He also doesn’t appear pale or, worse, green. Satisfied that he isn’t going to faint or be sick, Wei Wuxian grins down at him and says, “That wasn’t too bad, right?”

“Not bad,” Lan Wangji agrees. “Do you travel using the Distance Shortening Spell often?”

Wei Wuxian shakes his head. “Nah. Where would I have to travel to?”

Clearly at a loss, Lan Wangji doesn’t respond. He crouches quietly on Wei Wuxian’s palm as the latter begins approaching the cottage, swinging the basket from the crook of his arm as he goes.

When they reach the front door, Wei Wuxian pauses. He clears his throat and glances down at Lan Wangji, opening his mouth as if to speak, before thinking better of it. He takes one last moment to compose himself, breathing in and out quietly, then raises the hand not currently holding Lan Wangji and raps his knuckles against the wooden door.

There’s some shuffling from inside, and a disjointed shout. Wei Wuxian thinks he hears the whistling of a kettle and A-Yuan’s contagious giggle from somewhere deeper in the building. Then, with a loud creak the door swings open to reveal Wen Qing’s glaring face.

“Wei Wuxian, it’s about time you showed up,” she says, immediately crossing her arms and raising her voice as if she’s berating a small child. “We’ve been waiting on those damn turnips for weeks.”

Wei Wuxian winces. “And I’ll get them to you, I swear! But—”

“You mean you don’t even have them with you?”

Seriously, Wei Wuxian thinks pitifully, I don’t think she even chides A-Yuan as much as she chides me.

“Ha, well, that’s a funny story actually,” he says, scrambling to prevent Wen Qing from slamming the door in his face. “You see, when I went to buy turnip seeds, there was some sort of misunderstanding. I brought you some cabbages, though?”

Wen Qing takes a very deep breath, which he imagines is her way of suppressing the urge to strangle him with her bare hands. “If I wanted you to bring me cabbages,” she says through gritted teeth, “I’d ask for cabbages!”

“I’m sorry! I really am!” He holds up the basket to show her its contents. “I even brought you some wine!”

At this, Wen Qing’s expression changes minutely. She rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Bring them inside, I’m sure someone will eat those ghastly vegetables.”

She turns on her heel and disappears back into her home. Wei Wuxian breathes a sigh of relief and enters after her, quietly closing the door behind him and grinning down at Lan Wangji as if to say, See? That was a piece of cake. Unfortunately, Lan Wangji seems less than impressed.

“This is why you didn’t want to bother the Wens?” he asks. “Because you’re a bad food supplier?”

“Harsh! Are you still this mean when you’re full-sized?”

Lan Wangji rolls his eyes. “I thought you said you were friends with the Wens.”

“I am!” Wei Wuxian nods, grinning. “Well, we’re actually more like family.”

“I can see that,” Lan Wangji responds, sounding like he very much doesn’t believe him.

Wei Wuxian places his basket down on the ground before taking a seat at the low table in the centre of the Wens' living room. He laughs. “What, you don’t fight with your family sometimes?”

“Not really.”

“Boring. If you think that encounter with Wen Qing was bad, you should see me and my brother.”

“Jiang Cheng?”

“Yeah! You remembered, haha.” He isn’t quite sure why, but the knowledge that Lan Wangji has actually been listening to him all this time instead of just pretending to makes him blush. Just a little. It’s nice to be heard sometimes. Especially from someone so cute—and from someone who isn’t his sister or Wen Ning. Wei Wuxian thinks that, sometimes, they must feel obliged to listen to him, or something. But having Lan Wangji listen to everything he says, not to mention remember the things he says… it’s different. It’s nice.

Lan Wangji doesn’t make eye contact, staring down at Wei Wuxian’s upturned palm instead. His ears are slightly pink when he mumbles a quiet, “Mn.”

He really is so cute. Wei Wuxian has to pinch himself in warning—it doesn’t bode too well to become smitten with random visitors. They all pass on eventually, and where will that leave Wei Wuxian? He shakes his head and tries not to think about it.

“I don’t fight with my sister, though! She’s too sweet,” he says. Changing the subject to Jiang Yanli always puts a smile on his face, regardless of what else he’s feeling. He sees Lan Wangji’s raised eyebrow and laughs. “No, really, she’s the best person in the world. Well, out of all the fully-grown ones, that is.”

It takes a second for his words to register, but when they finally do, he’s rewarded with another pretty red blush on Lan Wangji’s cheeks. He grins.

Wen Qing finally emerges from the kitchen at that moment, holding two cups of what could either be water or wine depending on her mood. She gives Wei Wuxian a look that is equal parts judgement and worry.

“Who on earth are you talking to?” she asks, setting a cup on the table in front of him before taking a seat on the other side of it. She takes a sip from her own cup and asks, “Have you finally gone mad?”

“Oh, right!” It would probably help if he actually introduced the two of them. He clears his throat. “Wen Qing, meet Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, Wen Qing.”

He holds his hand up in front of his chest, presenting Lan Wangji like a precious gem pulled from the ground. Lan Wangji and Wen Qing stare at each other silently for a moment, before Wen Qing’s gaze slowly drags back up to Wei Wuxian’s face.

“What did you do?” she asks, her tone accusing.

Wei Wuxian gasps, affronted. “Why do you automatically assume this is my fault?”

“Because you’re always causing problems. I figure it’s not too unreasonable to assume that you’ve caused problems for this poor man, too.”

The ‘poor man’ in question turns to give Wei Wuxian an amused look, which he pointedly ignores. Really, he wouldn’t have taken Lan Wangji as the sort of person to tease others so relentlessly. He guesses that old saying is correct—don’t judge books by their covers, or something.

He leans across the table, careful not to squash Lan Wangji, and in the most condescending tone he can muster, asks, “Have I ever told you how much you sound like Jiang Cheng?”

Wen Qing wrinkles her nose, as if having just bitten into something sour. “I take personal offence to that.”

“Good.”

He leans back and takes a sip of his drink—it’s only water today, and he silently laments the lack of good alcohol—before his demeanor shifts, and he finally decides to get down to business.

“Listen. My good friend here—” he holds Lan Wangji up again in clarification, as if he’d be talking about anyone else— “has been cursed. A simple shrinking curse from a fairy, no biggie. We’ve even found a way to reverse it, but we need a few things that we think you might have.”

Wen Qing listens raptly to everything he says, switching into what Wei Wuxian likes to call her Doctor Mode. She nods when he finishes speaking, then holds out her hand. “Let me see what you have.”

Wei Wuxian places his hand on the table and allows Lan Wangji to step down from his palm. He then reaches into his sleeve to procure the piece of paper with the spell written on it. He unfolds it, soothing out the creases before sliding it across the surface of the table for Wen Qing to take.

As Wen Qing’s eyes scan over the spell and its accompanying list of ingredients, she occasionally hums to herself and inclines her head. Finally, after a few moments, she stands. Without tearing her gaze away from the page, she says, “Follow me.”

Wei Wuxian shares a look with Lan Wangji before carefully picking him up and following after Wen Qing. She leads them out of the living room and along a dark corridor. As they pass a door on the left, it suddenly bursts open to reveal a flustered Wen Ning holding A-Yuan on his shoulders.

“Xian-gege!” A-Yuan screams delightedly, stretching his hands out as if to grab onto him.

Wen Ning glances worriedly over at his sister, looking no less terrified than a wood nymph in the middle of the ocean. “I’m sorry, jiejie. He kept insisting on coming to see what all the commotion was about, and I couldn’t keep denying him without causing a river of tears.”

Sighing, Wen Qing waves him off. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Say ‘hello’ quickly, A-Yuan. Your gege has important work to do with me.”

Normally, Wei Wuxian would have already taken A-Yuan by the arms by now and swung him up into the air to hear his shrieks of glee. However, with Lan Wangji perched in one of his hands, this currently proves impossible. At first, A-Yuan seems disappointed that he hasn’t been greeted the way he usually does—yet, upon spotting the tiny man in his Xian-gege’s hand, his eyes brighten.

“Xian-gege, you brought a fairy!”

Wen Ning finally catches sight of Lan Wangji too, and his expression morphs into one of shock. “Oh. Hello.”

Laughing, Wei Wuxian holds Lan Wangji a little higher for them both to see. “He isn’t a fairy, he’s a man. He’s just a little smaller than he should be, but we’re trying to fix that. Everyone, this is Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan, this is Wen Ning and A-Yuan.”

A-Yuan seems completely enraptured with the sight of Lan Wangji, and instinctively reaches his hand out. “I hold?”

Wei Wuxian feels Lan Wangji become tense in his hand, and he gently rubs his other pinky over the man’s back to comfort him. “No, A-Yuan. Lan Zhan is very small, and we don’t want to hurt him. You cannot hold him, but you can talk to him if you’d like.”

As if to further convince A-Yuan, Lan Wangji finally says, “Hello. It’s nice to meet you.”

A-Yuan startles, as if he hadn’t even considered the possibility that Lan Wangji would be able to speak. Then he beams and waves a pudgy hand down at him, accidentally smacking Wen Ning in the face in the process. “Hello!”

From the sidelines, Wen Qing finally clears her throat. Wei Wuxian glances over at her just in time to see her school her expression from one of fondness into one of disinterest. He grins and winks at her, which she pointedly ignores.

“Alright, alright, Lan Zhan and I have to go now,” he then says to A-Yuan. “We have important things to do, but maybe we’ll come back to visit you again another day soon! How does that sound?”

A-Yuan pouts but doesn’t object. With some prompting from Wen Ning, he finally nods. “Okay.”

“It was nice to see you again,” Wen Ning says. Then his gaze drops down to Lan Wangji. “And it was nice to meet you, Lan-gongzi. We hope you really do come to visit again soon.”

When Lan Wangji nods, Wei Wuxian can’t help but feel a burst of hope. He mentally stamps down on it and smiles, saying a quick goodbye to A-Yuan and Wen Ning as the two of them retreat back through the door and close it behind them.

The corridor descends into silence once more. Wei Wuxian wordlessly follows after Wen Qing, and Lan Wangji, too, is silent in his hand. He almost seems… contemplative. Wei Wuxian tries not to think too hard about it.

Eventually, they come to a door at the end of the hall that Wei Wuxian knows from experience leads to Wen Qing’s personal study. She retrieves a silver key from her pocket and unlocks the door, then pushes it open and steps inside. As Wei Wuxian follows, she crosses to a row of shelves at the other end of the room and begins scanning them. Each shelf is crammed with jars and small rectangular boxes of medicinal herbs and other substances, some rarer than others. There’s some sort of categorical system to them all, Wei Wuxian knows, though he’s never dared to ask what that particular system actually is.

Wei Wuxian stands to the side as Wen Qing searches. She occasionally reaches up to push a few items aside, then makes a displeased sound and falls back onto the balls of her feet.

“Are you certain that she will have the ingredients we need?” Lan Wangji whispers quietly, watching Wen Qing with doubt in his eyes.

Wei Wuxian’s teeth worry at his bottom lip for a moment. Of course, he doesn’t doubt Wen Qing. If she didn’t have the ingredients, he thinks she would have already brushed the matter off by now. In the end, it’s just a matter of finding everything.

“She’ll have them,” he says assuringly. “There’s no doubt in my mind that she will.”

Lan Wangji nods, though he doesn’t seem entirely convinced. “What if…” He trails off, glancing down at his feet.

Wei Wuxian waits patiently for a few moments, but the smaller man still doesn’t speak. “If?” he prompts.

“What if she doesn’t?” Lan Wangji finally asks. When he looks up, his face is crestfallen, his eyes shining. The sight makes Wei Wuxian’s stomach drop. “What if she’s missing a vital ingredient? What if she really doesn’t have any at all?”

Within a second, Wei Wuxian’s mind is made up—he never wants to see that defeated look on Lan Wangji’s face ever again. He’ll do anything in his power to make this work.

“If Wen Qing doesn’t have what we’re looking for,” he says, “then I’ll personally track down every last ingredient on that list. I don’t care how far I must travel, nor how treacherous that journey will be. I will do everything in my power to make sure we break that curse of yours. I promise.”

Lan Wangji stares at him, left speechless by his words. His eyes are wide and glistening in the dim light of Wen Qing’s study. If Wei Wuxian didn’t know better, he’d guess that they were full of something like wonder.

Finally, Lan Wangji nods. “Okay. Thank you, Wei Ying.”

He sounds so sincere that it sends a shiver along Wei Wuxian’s spine, but he doesn’t mind so much. Uttered from Lan Wangji’s lips, those words really aren’t too bad. In fact, Wei Wuxian finds himself smiling at them.

It’s at that moment that Wen Qing finally makes a quiet, pleased sound and grabs a jar from the shelf to her left. She pulls it closer to inspect its contents, then nods and places it aside. Soon after, she grabs a box from her right and places it next to the jar.

Wei Wuxian feels Lan Wangji shift in his hand, and when he glances down, the man is watching Wen Qing with barely-concealed hope on his face. His tiny hand comes to rest on Wei Wuxian’s pinky. He squeezes it, as if one would squeeze a person’s entire hand. Wei Wuxian smiles down at the sight fondly.

A few minutes later, the wait is over. Wen Qing turns, satisfied with her collection, and announces, “Good news: I have all the ingredients. Now all that’s left to do is use the spell’s instructions to make the potion you’ll need to drink.”

“Oh, finally,” Wei Wuxian says. “We’ve reached the fun part! I thought I was about to die of boredom for a minute there.”

Wen Qing glares at him, before turning once more to start working on the potion. In Wei Wuxian’s hand, Lan Wangji taps his foot a few times. He glances down at him questioningly, to which Lan Wangji points over at Wen Qing.

“Ah, right,” Wei Wuxian says, carrying Lan Wangji over to Wen Qing’s side. “You’re right, we should see this.”

“What, don’t you trust me?” Wen Qing asks, though they both know that Wei Wuxian does. He shakes his head, nevertheless.

“Just giving my little friend here a better vantage point,” he says.

Wen Qing rolls her eyes, but doesn’t argue. She adds a pinch of silvery powder into a glass dish, then tops it off with a drop of green liquid.

“What are those?” Wei Wuxian asks.

“Fairy dust—obviously—and liquified moss.”

Wei Wuxian gags. “Why?”

Lan Wangji answers for him. “The fairy dust is a necessary addition because it was a fairy who placed this curse upon me, and the only thing that can counteract a fairy’s magic is more of the same,” he explains. “The moss contains nutrients that will aid with my sudden growth spurt.”

Wen Qing raises an impressed brow at him and nods. “Correct,” she says. Then, turning to Wei Wuxian: “You should bring him along on your visits more often. It’s nice talking to someone with actual brain cells.”

He makes a face at her, which she ignores in favour of adding more ingredients to the dish. He doesn’t inquire as to the purpose of any other ingredients, content to simply watch and wrinkle his nose at the sight of the brown mixture that Wen Qing is gradually creating.

“I can’t believe you have to drink that,” Wei Wuxian says to Lan Wangji. “It looks like mud.”

The combined force of Wen Qing and Lan Wangji’s simultaneous glares is hard to contend with, but he manages.

Wen Qing uses a small wooden stick to mix the potion one last time, then pushes the dish over to Wei Wuxian’s side of the table and glances pointedly at Lan Wangji. Taking the hint, Wei Wuxian gives Lan Wangji one last reassuring pat on the shoulder with his pinky before setting him down.

Lan Wangji picks up the dish with Wen Qing’s help, and is just about to take a sip when Wei Wuxian shouts, “Wait!”

Two heads swivel to look at him, each wearing the same exasperated expression. He laughs awkwardly and shrugs.

“I just thought—well, if this works and Lan Zhan grows back to his full size, we wouldn’t want him hurting himself or accidentally crushing the table. Shouldn’t we do this on the floor instead?”

Wen Qing and Lan Wangji glance at each other, each taking his question very seriously.

“You actually make a good point,” Wen Qing finally says. “The things on those shelves are rare and expensive. Some are even priceless. I don’t want any of them to be broken.”

She gently takes the dish from Lan Wangji and sets it on the floor at her feet. Meanwhile, Wei Wuxian takes that as his cue to once again pick Lan Wangji up. He sets him as gently as possible down on the ground, then kneels as Wen Qing once again helps Lan Wangji to lift the dish full of liquid.

“Good luck,” Wei Wuxian says quietly.

Without further ado, Lan Wangji tips the dish back and swallows its contents in one go.

Though his face shows no sign of disgust, the potion can’t have been pleasant. Wei Wuxian winces as he watches Lan Wangji lick the remnants from his lips, yet still Lan Wangji doesn’t complain. He simply allows Wen Qing to set the dish aside before clearing his throat and waiting.

A few minutes pass in which nothing happens; Lan Wangji doesn’t even make a sound, let alone grow. Wei Wuxian begins to worry that maybe, after everything, they actually used the wrong spell—perhaps he accidentally copied the instructions from a silencing spell instead, though he can’t remember even reading such a spell to begin with.

His worries are laid to rest just a moment later, when Lan Wangji sighs and says, “Have I grown even an inch?”

Startled, it takes a moment for either Wen Qing or Wei Wuxian to reply.

“I don’t think—”

“Well, maybe—”

Wen Qing snaps her mouth shut to stare at Wei Wuxian incredulously.

“What?” he asks defensively. “He looks a little bigger… maybe.”

As if to demonstrate his point, he reaches out and places his thumb beside Lan Wangji, glancing between the two of them to compare their sizes. It soon becomes abundantly clear that Lan Wangji has not, in fact, grown even an inch.

“Ah,” Wei Wuxian says quietly, withdrawing his hand. “Sorry, Lan Zhan. I guess not.”

Lan Wangji’s face falls, and Wei Wuxian instantly feels guilt gnaw at his insides. Beside them, Wen Qing stands with a sigh.

“It’s okay,” Lan Wangji says, though he doesn’t sound too convincing.

Wei Wuxian shakes his head. “No, it’s not okay. I’m sorry, Lan Zhan. We’ll try again, alright? Maybe the balance was wrong, or—or maybe Qing-jie missed an ingredient. Wen Qing—”

“No,” she says, carefully inspecting the piece of paper detailing the spell. “Everything was correct. It simply didn’t work. I’m sorry, but that’s all I can do for that particular spell.”

Slowly, Wei Wuxian looks down at Lan Wangji. The man stares down at the ground, worryingly silent and unmoving. Like this, he resembles a jade carving rather than an actual man—still so beautiful, yet utterly lifeless. Looking at him sort of makes Wei Wuxian want to cry.

“I’m sorry, Lan Zhan,” he repeats.

This time, Lan Wangji doesn’t speak. He merely shakes his head.

Wei Wuxian reaches out his palm, and Lan Wangji weakly climbs up onto it. Rather than stand as he has while being carried thus far, he sits cross-legged in the centre of Wei Wuxian’s palm. As Wei Wuxian climbs back up to his feet, he can feel Lan Wangji shaking against him.

Wen Qing’s usual harsh love has been replaced with palpable concern, and as she hands the spell back to Wei Wuxian, she asks, “Is there anything else I can do?”

Glancing back down at the man in his palm, Wei Wuxian shakes his head. Right now, he thinks that the thing Lan Wangji needs the most is time; once he’s been able to move past this loss, it’ll be easier to face the next trial.

If there even is another trial, his traitorous mind provides. He angrily shakes that thought out of his head.

“I think we’ll return home, for now,” he tells Wen Qing. “There are more books we could try looking in. We’ll find something, I’m sure of it. Eventually, we will.”

Wen Qing searches his face for a moment, then nods. “Alright. If you need anything at all, you know where to find me.”

He nods back at her gratefully, then follows her from the room and back along the corridor. All the while, Lan Wangji sits silently in his hand, motionless and blank-faced. Even once they’ve reached the front door a few moments later, he doesn’t utter a word. Wen Qing quietly says goodbye, and Wei Wuxian smiles sadly as he waves.

The door closes behind them, and they leave the cottage with the smoke-filled chimney behind. Wei Wuxian curves his fingers ever-so-slightly, creating a shield around Lan Wangji in the hopes that it will provide him with a little more comfort, a little more warmth.

The journey back to Wei Wuxian’s farm is shadowed by a mood so sombre that it feels like a physical weight on his shoulders. They don’t use the Distance Shortening Spell this time, for there’s really no need for it, and he doesn’t want to expend his energy on something unnecessary. He’s disappointed, to say the least—he really thought the spell in his mother’s book would work. Now that it hasn’t, he feels as though he’s let Lan Wangji down. But that’s not even the worst part, because he knows that all that’s left to do now on Lan Wangji’s part is continue to look for a way to break his curse… elsewhere. If he doesn’t leave tonight, he’ll be sure to leave early tomorrow. Either way, Wei Wuxian must now come to terms with the fact that his time with Lan Wangji will soon come to an end.

He really, really doesn’t want it to.

Despite his inner turmoil, he tries to stay positive for Lan Wangji’s sake. It takes them a little over an hour to make it home, in the end; along the way, Wei Wuxian points out interesting plants on the side of the path they’re taking, or talks about different animals they pass by. At one point, as the sun begins to descend in the sky, he spots a white rabbit hopping about in the shrubbery nearby.

“Look, Lan Zhan! Isn’t it cute?” he asks, trying to get a better look.

Lan Wangji glances over at the rabbit and hums. A hint of a smile graces his lips. “Rabbits are very cute,” he says.

Yet, once the creature disappears, his smile fades along with it. Wei Wuxian tries not to fret so much, but he doesn’t want Lan Wangji to feel too disheartened. He’d promised himself before that he would do everything in his power to never see Lan Wangji look upset again, so he continues to chatter as they walk, telling jokes or short anecdotes in an attempt to lift the mood. It works, sometimes. He just wishes there was more that he could do.

They finally make it back to Wei Wuxian’s farm as the last traces of sun disappear below the horizon, painting the sky a deep azure. All across the fields surrounding his home, the sounds of crickets and other such insects can be heard; Wei Wuxian even thinks he hears the quiet giggling of fairies from afar. Usually, he’d take a moment to breathe in the dusk air and listen silently to the sounds surrounding him. Tonight, on the other hand, he walks straight to his door and pushes it open.

Inside, his mother’s book is still open atop his desk. He ignores it, instead setting Lan Wangji down at the kitchen counter before silently lighting a few candles. With the room lit, he can clearly see the expression on the smaller man’s face. His stomach twists as he takes in the downward curve of Lan Wangji’s lips, and the hazy sadness that dulls his golden eyes.

In yet another bid to lift the mood, he grabs a pan from the counter and flips it in his hands. “Can I get you anything, Lan Zhan? I can cook you up something nice, if you’d like. I’ll even make it edible for you—my siblings are always telling me my food can only be eaten by me.” He laughs. “Jiang Cheng complains that everything I cook is always too spicy, even for him. And he likes spicy food!”

Lan Wangji remains quiet. Gradually, the smile fades from Wei Wuxian’s face. He lowers the pan and places it back down onto the counter.

“Hey,” he says, quieter than before. He gently nudges Lan Wangji’s arm with his pinky. “Remember what I said, okay? This particular spell didn’t work—it’s disappointing, but this isn’t the end. I’ll find a way. I promise.”

For a moment, he worries that Lan Wangji really won’t speak. But, after a few moments of tense silence, he finally glances up and locks eyes with Wei Wuxian. “Okay,” he says. Ironically, his voice has never sounded so small.

Wei Wuxian shoots him what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “So, food? A drink? That concoction that Wen Qing mixed up for you can’t have tasted too good. Are you sure you don’t need something to wash it down with?”

Slowly, Lan Wangji shakes his head. “I think I’d prefer to just rest.”

“Oh,” Wei Wuxian says, faltering. He swallows through the tightness in his throat, then nods. “Okay. Yeah, okay. It’s getting late, anyway. Here, I’ll take you somewhere a little more comfortable.”

Despite everything he’d said earlier today about not having anywhere for Lan Wangji to sleep, he knows that he can’t have the man fall asleep in his hand again. He can still feel the ache in his neck from napping whilst bent over his desk, and Lan Wangji doesn’t particularly seem to be in the mood for messing around anymore. Quietly, Wei Wuxian carries him into his own bedroom and searches for something soft.

After a few minutes of searching, he finds one of A-Yuan’s old robes in his closet—it must have been left here at some point after the child spent the night. The robe is clearly too small for A-Yuan now, yet makes the perfect makeshift bed for Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian folds it with one hand and rests it atop the low table at the side of his bed, then allows Lan Wangji to hop down onto it.

Lan Wangji immediately lies down; this time, rather than adopt the sleeping position he had earlier in the day, he rests on his side and faces the wall. Wei Wuxian hesitates, wanting to reassure him again but wondering if now is really the right time. A moment of silence passes, before Wei Wuxian finally sighs and stands.

He leaves the bedroom, returning to the kitchen to blow out the candles he’d lit. He doesn’t have much of an appetite, despite having hardly eaten all day; now that Lan Wangji has retired to bed, even Wei Wuxian doesn’t have the energy to remain awake. With disappointment and guilt weighing heavily upon his shoulders, he returns to his bedroom and quietly goes about his nightly routine.

Once he’s changed into a set of thinner night robes and crawled into bed, he rolls over to check on Lan Wangji. The man is lying with his eyes shut tight, but his breathing has not yet slowed—he’s still awake. Wei Wuxian could reach out, or he could talk to him. He could do any number of things to try to comfort Lan Wangji. But watching him now, it’s clear that he really doesn’t want any of that.

In the end, all Lan Wangji wanted was to break his curse and return home. Despite every one of his efforts, Wei Wuxian has failed in making that happen.

He rolls over, closes his eyes, and tries not to let his mind wander too far. It’s like this that he eventually falls asleep.

When Wei Wuxian next wakes, there’s sunlight pouring in through the windows at the other end of the room. His mouth feels slightly dry, and there’s still a stiffness in his neck that he knows from experience will be bothering him for days to come. He sits up, stretching as he yawns. Then, as if it’s already become second-nature to him, he turns his head to check on Lan Wangji.

He’s met with the sight of A-Yuan’s old robe folded neatly atop the table where he’d left it. But Lan Wangji is nowhere in sight.

“Lan Zhan?” he calls quietly, glancing around. He blinks a few times to chase away the grogginess that comes with waking so early in the morning. “Lan Zhan? Are you there?”

He certainly isn’t in the spot Wei Wuxian had left him last night, nor is he anywhere on the floor. Wei Wuxian experiences a moment of gut-wrenching panic in which he considers the possibility that Lan Wangji had somehow made his way onto the bed and been crushed. Yet, after practically turning his sheets inside out in search of the tiny man, Wei Wuxian is still at a loss. Lan Wangji really is nowhere to be found.

Something in Wei Wuxian’s chest falters and plummets downwards, reaching the balls of his feet. Numbly, he finds himself falling into a hunched position at the edge of his bed. He stares blankly at the wall. “Where is he?” he asks it. The wall stares blankly—and silently—back.

So, this is it, then; Lan Wangji has finally left. After all, his priority is finding a way to break his curse. Following yesterday’s failed attempts, would it not be best for him to continue onwards in his journey, pursuing various alternative options until he finds a way to return to normalcy? Or maybe he decided it was best to return home, resigning himself to a lifetime of being the size of a person’s thumb.

Even though Wei Wuxian knew this would eventually happen, it doesn’t make it any less painful. He can only be grateful that Lan Wangji granted him one last night of company before he departed.

As he climbs to his feet again and leaves his bedroom, he feels… empty. Like something has been forcibly ripped out of him; stolen away, never to be seen again. Even as he enters his living room, hearing the methodic thump, thump, thump of a knife hitting a wooden cutting board, the feeling remains.

But—wait. That shouldn’t be possible. How can he hear such a noise if he’s alone?

Slowly, he turns towards the kitchen. There, standing with his head bowed low over a selection of vegetables, is a man.

“Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian calls, feeling a small spark of hope ignite somewhere deep within his chest.

The man falters in his chopping and looks up. A pair of golden eyes meet those of silver, and suddenly Wei Wuxian finds it harder to breathe. This man is undoubtedly Lan Wangji; from the flowing white robes—now almost heavenly in the way they drape over a tall, broad body—to his smooth, perfect skin, and the ethereal beauty and grace he possesses. And those adorable ears, still tinted pink as he stares back at Wei Wuxian.

“Good morning,” he finally says, allowing a small smile to grace his lips. His voice is deeper now that he’s back to his regular size, and Wei Wuxian finds it hard not to swoon hearing it. “Did you sleep well?”

Wei Wuxian barks out a shocked laugh, pointing a shaking finger at Lan Wangji from where he stands at the other end of the room. “You—you’re big. You grew,” he exclaims, ignoring the other man’s question.

“I did,” Lan Wangji says, resuming his chopping. “Do you prefer dried spice or chilli oil with your food?”

Wei Wuxian thinks he might have fallen in love.

“Lan Zhan,” he says. His throat is suddenly thick, and tears well in the corners of his eyes. “Lan Zhan, you’re here.”

“Of course I am,” Lan Wangji says. As if any other possibility would be inconceivable. As if this is how things are meant to be—Lan Wangji in Wei Wuxian’s kitchen, slicing vegetables for breakfast, looking absolutely heavenly in the morning sunlight.

It finally dawns on Wei Wuxian, then, what must have happened. Of the three of them—himself, Lan Wangji, and Wen Qing—not a single one of them had read about how long the spell would take to come into effect. Lan Wangji's sudden growth spurt must have taken place overnight, after the potion had finally settled within his body and the magic had managed to counteract that which was already swirling within him. He would have woken this morning, likely aching from his position half-atop the table beside Wei Wuxian's bed, and then—

And then his first instinct was to make Wei Wuxian breakfast.

Wei Wuxian's heart skips a beat in his chest. Definitely in love.

Smiling, he closes the distance between them. He gently takes the knife from Lan Wangji’s hand and places it down atop the counter, then laces his fingers with the other man’s. “I’m glad you're still here,” he says.

For a moment, Lan Wangji is shocked. Wei Wuxian is worried that he’ll pull away, and then he really will leave—but he eventually relaxes into the touch, even running the pad of his thumb over Wei Wuxian’s hand. His own is so big now, almost dwarfing Wei Wuxian’s.

Ironic, Wei Wuxian thinks fondly. He sort of misses having Lan Wangji in the palm of his hand, but this is simultaneously so much better.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji suddenly says. “Would you like to go on a trip?”

“A trip?” Wei Wuxian asks. “With you?”

Lan Wangji nods. “I must return home soon. My brother and uncle will be wondering where I am, and they will both be glad to know my curse is broken. I’m sure they would also like to meet the man who helped me break it.”

He stares pointedly at Wei Wuxian as the corners of his lips rise. It takes a moment for his words to fully resonate with Wei Wuxian, but when they do, he releases a startled, breathless laugh.

“You want me to come home with you?”

“For a while,” Lan Wangji says. Then he adds, quietly, “If you wish.”

Wei Wuxian does, in fact, wish. He wishes so ardently. Rather than agree, however, he clears his throat and forces a contemplative frown onto his face. Then he asks, very seriously, “And after that?”

Lan Wangji contemplates his question for a moment, before finally saying, “After that, I believe you owe the Wens some turnips. I would be happy to help you plant them.”

“Then, I’d appreciate the help,” Wei Wuxian says, no longer able to contain the giddy smile on his face. He feels so much warmth that he thinks he could burst with it—yet, with Lan Wangji’s hand in his, he feels safer and stronger than ever.

“I could even aid in delivering them, if it wouldn’t mean overstaying my welcome,” Lan Wangji says. In a delightful turn of events, red spreads outwards from his ears to paint his cheeks and neck.

Wei Wuxian couldn’t possibly hold back any longer, even if he tried. Without thinking twice, he leans up ever-so-slightly to plant a kiss on Lan Wangji’s cheek, just a hair’s breadth from the corner of his mouth. When he pulls back, Lan Wangji’s golden eyes are wide and swimming with hope and love.

“Never,” Wei Wuxian says, in answer to Lan Wangji’s words. “You’re always welcome here, Lan Zhan. Haven’t you realised it yet? I never want you to leave my side.”

A huff leaves Lan Wangji’s lips, and it takes Wei Wuxian a moment to realise that it’s a laugh.

“Well, that’s good,” Lan Wangji says. “Because I don’t want you to leave mine, either.”

As Wei Wuxian leans in to kiss him again—properly, this time—he thinks, Not a chance.