Work Text:
It was almost funny, Luo Qingyang thought.
Nie Huaisang leaned over to mutter under his breath. “Is it bad that I always want to laugh when they do that?” Well, at least it wasn’t just her.
“I was just thinking the same thing,” she admitted with a chuckle. Like approximately four hundred eighty-seven times before, as soon as the Jiang contingent arrived, both Lan Wangji and Jin Zixuan had immediately abandoned all pretense of paying attention to the social niceties of the pre-conference meet-and-mingle to stare, wistfully.
(In fairness, the average person might not identify Lan Wangji’s expression as wistful, but neither Luo Qingyang nor Nie Huaisang were average when it came to reading the young master who held the title* of “hottest resting bitch face in the cultivation world.”
*bestowed, of course, by Nie Huaisang)
((Lan Wangji knew about the title, and had given the Eyebrow Quirk of Deep Amusement when he learned of it, so.))
(((Jin Zixuan’s wistfulness, on the other hand, was, in Luo Qingyang’s opinion, painfully obvious.)))
“Honestly, this is getting beyond ridiculous,” Luo Qingyang said, as the also-inevitable shout of, “Lan Zhan!” signaled the imminent arrival of Wei Wuxian and the Jiang siblings to their corner of the hall. “Not a one of them is ever going to make a move at this rate, are they?”
Nie Huaisang narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “Not without a push, certainly,” he mused, lips curling into a grin behind his fan that only Luo Qingyang, standing next to him, could see. That expression, now, foretold a very interesting next few days.
So she wasn’t surprised when Nie Huaisang pulled Wei Wuxian aside later and whispered something to him behind his fan. She wasn’t even surprised at the scandalized, “What??!” that Nie Huaisang hurriedly shushed and Wei Wuxian awkwardly waved off when everyone turned his direction. She certainly wasn’t surprised when Nie Huaisang came back looking like the cat who’d not only got the cream but caught the canary too.
“Dare I ask what you told him, that you look so smug?” she asked.
“My dear Luo Qingyang, I’m sure I don’t know what you’re implying. I merely clued our friend Wei-xiong in to Lan Wangji’s ardent and long-held admiration for Jiang-guniang.”
No. NO.
“For Jiang Yanli,” she clarified, horrified and impressed at the shape of the impending chaos Nie Huaisang had just unleashed.
“We’ve put up with their mooning for years; I think we deserve a little fun,” Nie Huaisang said, with a nearly feral grin.
“This is going to be the best conference ever,” Luo Qingyang declared. She stifled a truly undignified snort behind her sleeve as another thought occured to her. “Oh gods, Jiang Wanyin’s head is going to explode.”
All they had to do now was wait for the fireworks.