Chapter Text
“Excuse me?”
Jiang Cheng looked up from his homework at the two girls who stood on the other side of the raised counter. He slipped on his customer service smile with practiced ease and, sitting up out of his pained slouch, quickly took in their appearance. Teenagers, likely early high school, one with a short bob and the other with her hair in long pigtails. Even though the counter blocked everything below their sternums, he could see the familiar pattern of school uniforms and bags slung on their shoulders.
“Hello,” he said to them. “How can I help you?” Internally, he noted with satisfaction that his voice wasn’t nearly as wooden as it had been when he started this job. Jiejie would be proud of him.
“Two computers, please,” the girl with a bob replied. She had been the one to speak originally. “Plus a bottle of water and … did you want anything?” she asked her companion, turning her head. When the other girl shook her head in a negative, she turned back to Jiang Cheng and finished, “Okay, just the bottle of water then.”
“Sure.” He stood and held out one hand to take their ID cards. At the same time, he woke up the front counter desktop computer with a shake of the mouse in his other hand. A few clicks quickly found them their two computers, side by side, and a few more had reserved them for their respective IDs. That done, he handed the cards back, already moving towards the small fridge against the wall to his right to fetch a bottle of water. Jiang Cheng was nothing if not quick and efficient.
“B14 and B15,” he told them as he passed over the drink, and then, because they didn’t look familiar, he added, “Thank you for choosing Lotus Blossoms Internet Cafe.”
“No, thank you,” the girl who appeared to be the only one who knew how to talk answered with a coy smile, and as they walked away towards section B, he heard her loudly whisper to her friend, “Oh my god, he’s cute!”
Jiang Cheng sighed and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He hated it when customers flirted with him or made comments like that. Not because he didn’t enjoy feeling attractive. He was only human after all. No, he hated it because --
“Hey, Didi, did you hear that?? They think you’re cute!”
Because of Wei Ying.
“Who’s your didi?” he replied automatically as he sat back down and pulled his homework towards him again. Years of living with the most annoying human on the planet meant he didn’t even bat an eye when his adopted brother appeared out of nowhere and draped himself over the counter. There was no way that position was comfortable with his upper half hanging over the wall and his elbows nearly touching the surface of the desk, but apparently Wei Ying didn’t care about comfort if it meant shoving his grinning mug into Jiang Cheng’s personal space.
“You are!” the pest insisted. He reached out to pinch Jiang Cheng’s cheeks, but Jiang Cheng batted the other man’s hands away without even looking. “You are my precious, adorable didi who for some reason refuses to let me set him up on a date!” At Jiang Cheng’s continued silence, he pouted for all of five seconds before brightening up and asking, “Do you want me to get those girls’ numbers for you?”
“We’re not allowed to date the customers, idiot,” Jiang Cheng sighed with the tone of one who has had this conversation many times before. “Speaking of …” He pointed at the gently-steaming cup noodle that Wei Ying had dropped on the counter and that was now sitting dangerously close to his brother’s flailing limbs. “Is that for you or someone else?”
“Ahaha, oops.” Wei Ying scrambled gracelessly backwards over the counter and retrieved the soup with a sheepish expression. “Hold on, I’ll be right back” he said, before disappearing off into the rows of computers that made up the majority of the cafe.
“Don’t bother,” Jiang Cheng tried to call to him, but the pest was already gone. Realizing that he was unlikely to get any more of his homework done any time soon, he gathered up his books with a sigh and turned to the desktop machine instead. Might as well look a bit at social media while he waited for his disaster of a brother to return.
Not surprisingly, most of the articles at the top of his feed were about the tenth Glory server going live that evening. He already knew all about that. It was the reason why he was down here working the front desk at his sister’s internet cafe instead of studying in peace upstairs in his room. It was why she was upstairs in her room trying to cook as big a pot of her special soup as her small stove would allow. It was why, when he wasn’t tending to customer’s needs or annoying Jiang Cheng, Wei Ying was draping the walls with posters and banners depicting professional Glory players and their avatars. And it wasn’t just them. Every internet cafe in the city was pulling out all the stops tonight to try to entice players to use their machines over someone else’s, but not everyone could cook like his A-jie. Lotus Blossoms had a nice following of devoted customers thanks to her. They fully expected to be swarmed in just a few hours.
After scrolling past several articles about the new server, Jiang Cheng stopped when a press release caught his eye. The title read “Su She removed from Frosted Clouds’ main team; returned to second string”.
“Good,” Jiang Cheng said, a satisfied grin creeping into his lips as he clicked the link to read the entire statement. That fucker deserved to be demoted. He had nearly cost Frosted Clouds the game in their recent match with Eternal Sun, and while Jiang Cheng might have had a slight crush on Eternal Sun’s captain, team loyalty always came first. Besides, he hated stupid people, and anyone who was stupid enough to disregard orders from Lan Xichen, the Glory Textbook, the undisputed Battle God of Glory, deserved to have their ass sent back to the second string.
The article had linked a video recap of the game, so Jiang Cheng clicked on it and leaned back in his chair to watch the match. He had already seen it probably ten times, including watching it live there in the cafe on the giant screen A-jie had installed in the lounge area, but there was something so mesmerizing about watching Frosted Clouds’ captain play. It didn’t matter how many times he watched; he always wanted to watch again.
The initial melee had been a chaotic free-for-all as players on both sides attacked seemingly at random, dueling one-on-one or in small groups. Unsurprisingly, the Twin Jades of Frosted Clouds -- Captain Lan Xichen and his brother, Vice-Captain Lan Wangji -- had dominated the battle, and soon Eternal Sun had turned tail and retreated, ostensibly looking for better ground. At first, the fleeing team had stayed close together, but the more they ran, the more their Cleric had fallen behind the rest of the group.
Once upon a time, Jiang Cheng had played Glory, just like every other school-aged kid he had known. When he had entered college, however, he had put the game aside in order to focus on his studies, and while he remained a fan, he hadn’t actually played or participated in a raid or team battle in three years. Yet even he could recognize a trap as obvious as that one had been. Although they had poor combat abilities, a talented Cleric could mean the difference between victory and defeat in a tough battle; teams protected them fiercely. In addition, Wen Ning was one of the best Clerics in the league. Only Nie Huaisang from Stone Fortress could be argued to be better. To see him falling behind and not being surrounded by the rest of the team was practically a neon sign screaming “It’s a trap!!”
Su She, moron that he was, either hadn’t realized it or hadn’t cared. Ignoring his own captain’s order to stop pursuit and form up, he had rushed forward, been caught by Eternal Sun’s Knight, and KOed in about thirty seconds. Lan Wangji, the hands-down best Launcher ever in Jiang Cheng’s opinion, had managed to KO Eternal Sun’s Sharpshooter, but it still hadn’t been enough to overcome the other team’s point lead. With seconds left, the Twin Jades had managed some jaw-droppingly amazing teamwork and somehow managed to finish off the Knight just as time ran out. Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying had both screamed themselves hoarse that night, first at the idiocy of Su She and then at the god-like skills of their team’s amazing first duo. The entire cafe had erupted alongside them at the last-minute victory, the celebration truly awesome.
Smiling at the memory, Jiang Cheng lifted his head to gaze at the two extra large posters that hung near the doors of the cafe. Unlike the posters that Wei Ying had put up just for that night, these two never came down. They were life-sized depictions of the Lan brothers’ in-game avatars: Shimmering Pond the Battle Mage and Noble Light the Launcher. Shimmering Pond held his spear tip-down at his side, his chin lifted slightly as if looking far off into the horizon. Noble Light had his cannon strapped to his back and held his two pistols in his hands, both pointed upwards as if at ease but still ready to fight at a moment’s notice. Both were dressed in icy blue armor, their black hair streaming down their backs, and their faces completely covered by fancy blue masks.
Not for the first time, Jiang Cheng wondered what the Twin Jades looked like in real life. No one knew except, he assumed, the members of Frosted Clouds and maybe a few other professional Glory players that the brothers had befriended. As for the public, they had been denied even a glimpse of either player’s face for ten years now. Lan Xichen had captained Frosted Clouds from the beginning, back when the league started, but even then he only ever appeared wearing a dark blue ball-cap and face mask, making sure that the cameras saw nothing but his eyes. When Lan Wangji had joined the team a few years later, he had followed in his brother’s footsteps and also hidden his face from everyone. Neither brother ever did live interviews or any promotional events. Lan Wangji didn’t even give written interviews, although his brother did and always seemed to be a perfect gentleman in writing. And yet, in spite of every interviewer desperately trying to get the answer, he never explained why they kept up the secrecy or if they would ever eventually reveal their faces to their fans.
Any other pair of Glory players would have likely lost all of their fans’ support by now, but not the Twin Jades. Even when Frosted Clouds as a team didn’t do well, the two Lans were always pulling off amazing stunts and last-minute comebacks that kept their fans breathlessly mesmerized. They truly were legends in their own time.
“Whatcha watching?”
Wei Ying was back, once again draping himself over the front counter and invading Jiang Cheng’s personal space.
“Just the video of last week’s match,” he answered the other young man’s question. His lips turned up into that smug grin again as he informed him, “Su She got kicked back down to second string.”
“Good!” his brother replied with a small slap of his hand against the desk. “Serves him right! Who does he think he is, ignoring Xichen-ge’s orders? Although,” he added, pausing to bite on his lower lip a bit, “only down to second string? That’s going too easy on him. He deserves to be kicked off the team entirely.”
“Seriously.” Jiang Cheng watched for a minute as Wei Ying lay there, stretched out over his counter like a beached whale. “Did you need something?” he eventually asked. “Don’t you have work you should be doing?”
His brother waved a hand like actually doing his job was too much of an inconvenience. “What class should I be on the tenth server?” he asked instead. Intelligent gray eyes sparkled as they met Jiang Cheng’s. “What are you going to be?”
“Nothing,” Jiang Cheng answered immediately. “You know I’m not going to play.”
Instantly, the adult male in front of him transformed into a whiny, pouting child. “Come on, Chengcheng. You used to love playing Glory! You were really good!”
Sighing, Jiang Cheng leaned back even further and kicked his feet up on the desk, slotting his hands behind his head. “Yeah,” he replied dryly, “and then I decided to spend my time on important things instead like my education and getting a job that will support me.” He gave his freeloading brother a pointed look. In spite of being disgustingly brilliant, Wei Ying had never actually finished any of the degrees he had started, and he hadn’t been able to hold down any jobs before their sister had hired him.
“What’s wrong with this job?” Wei Ying muttered as he messed around with the things on the desk, totally destroying Jiang Cheng’s meticulous order. “Jie pays well enough, and we get food and a room and free access to the internet.”
“Stop messing with my stuff!” Jiang Cheng yelled at him, slapping his hands. Once he was certain no more damage would be done, he huffed and countered, “Jie feeds you because otherwise you’d starve. And she could rent out our rooms for extra income if we weren’t in them. You might be shameless enough to leech off of her for your whole life, but I’m not. I have no desire to be a front desk employee when I’m forty.”
His brother grumbled at him, and he thought he heard something along the lines of “Don’t understand why that means you can’t PK me every so often.” That pout was back, and Wei Ying’s twitchy fingers kept sneaking towards Jiang Cheng’s neat stack of pens.
He had just reached out to slap that hand away again when a sudden idea occurred to him. Suspiciously, he narrowed his eyes into a searching glare. “You’re not planning on playing tonight, are you?” he asked, raising one eyebrow. “We’re here to help A-jie, not add to her stress.”
“I know that,” Wei Ying replied immediately, his face taking on a wounded expression. “I promised to help her make this night a complete success, and I intend to keep my promise!” He paused, his face slowly morphing into a happy grin. “Buuuut,” he added, “I’m sure she won’t need my help all night, so that will give me time to play!” And, as if realizing that Jiang Cheng would respond by giving him a severe tongue-lashing, he quickly bounced off of the counter and dashed away.
Jiang Cheng watched him go with a bemused shake of his head. “Oh, Ge,” he sighed, indulging in the name now that Wei Ying was no longer near enough to hear it, “what am I going to do with you?”
xXx
Lan Huan felt numb. Distantly, he could feel the fingers of his right hand gently stroking the account card for Shimmering Pond that he kept in his team jacket pocket. His thumb kept catching on the edges of the silver cloud emblem in the center, slightly raised from the smooth clear plastic of the main body of the card.
“Unacceptable.” His brother’s voice was cold, his icy fury evident. “Brother has given you ten years. Three championships. Countless awards including MVP.”
“And we are very grateful for his contributions,” the man in the suit across the table replied with a simpering smile. Lan Huan had already forgotten his name. Someone from the Board of Directors. “But we must embrace change, or we run the risk of becoming stale.”
Run the risk of losing money, you mean, a bitter voice replied somewhere within his head. It surprised him. He didn’t want to be bitter. He had always appreciated the work the board members did, dealing with business and financials so that he and his team could just focus on the game. He respected them.
He thought they had respected him.
A few sheets of paper bound in a laminated folder slid across the conference table towards him. Lan Huan drew it closer to himself and let his left hand play idly with a corner. He could feel his senses slowly starting to return to him as his mind began to recover from the shock.
“Your new contract is quite similar to the old one, with some minor adjustments to your salary and benefits to reflect your new position as coach and mentor to the younger players.”
Grief started to creep into his lungs as well as the sick feeling that he should have seen this coming. He wasn’t a fool. He knew that he and A-Zhan had more demands and restrictions than any other players in the league. He knew their refusal to do endorsements or promotional events resulted in lost revenue. He understood how marketing worked and that emblems and logos could only go so far in promoting a team. Just like how a band needed a front man, a team needed someone to step forward into the spotlight, to interact with the fans, to be the face of the team.
Suddenly tired, Lan Huan lifted his eyes to gaze at the young man who sat across from him on the other side of the table. His face was certainly quite pretty: smooth skin, delicate bone structure, dark hair and eyes. He hadn’t said a word beyond the polite greeting he had spoken when he entered, but his glittering eyes watched Lan Huan with interest, cutting every so often to the man in a suit whenever he said something important but always returning to Lan Huan’s blank face. His lips were frozen in a cocky little smile, something between flirtatious and cruel. It was part of his charm, apparently. He had a bad boy image that the female fans loved, very different from the quiet mystery Lan Huan had cultivated for himself.
Lan Huan would have been thrilled to have the young man on his team, especially considering the talent he had shown in the rookie league, if only ...
“Lan Wangji will remain Vice Captain for now, although once Xue Yang settles into his new position, he will of course want to pick someone who compliments his own style of play.”
A-Zhan huffed slightly at that but unsurprisingly gave no other reaction. His brother had never cared about his title; all he had ever wanted was to play at Lan Huan’s side. The next words out of the suited man’s mouth, however, made Lan Huan’s blood run cold.
“Also, he will no longer be allowed to play while wearing a mask.”
“Now wait a minute,” Lan Huan ordered, every neuron snapping back to full awareness as A-Zhan stiffened as if he had been struck. “The disguises are written into our contracts. You cannot demand we remove them.”
“It is written into your contract,” the man countered, and Lan Huan’s stomach dropped as he realized the truth. “When Lan Wangji joined the team, he was allowed to wear one since you were wearing one, but it is not expressly stated in his contract.”
Beside him, A-Zhan began to tremble slightly. Quickly, he reached out his left hand to take his brother by the wrist and gently stroked a thumb over his racing pulse point. Across the table, Xue Yang’s brows lifted a fraction as if reacting to a juicy piece of gossip. His smile widened a fraction in anticipation.
Lan Huan had always been a calm man, but in that moment, something deep within him began to burn. Losing the captain’s seat against his will hadn’t made him angry; neither had being told he would be the one to train his replacement. If they had simply stopped at him, he would have accepted their decrees with a lowered head, kept his grief to himself, and fallen into line willingly for the sake of the team that he loved with all his heart.
But no. They just had to involve A-Zhan.
He knew he didn’t have the power to do anything about it directly, but he would be damned if he was going to let them order him around after treating his brother like that.
Carefully and deliberately, he removed his right hand from his jacket pocket and reached out to the new contract. He lightly ran one finger over the silver cloud emblem in the center of the front page, letting his expression fall into one of gentle contemplation, as if he were simply reviewing what had been said. A moment later, he used that finger to violently flick the folder back to the other side of the table. Xue Yang caught it with one hand; at least the boy’s reflexes were good.
“I refuse,” Lan Huan said evenly, meeting the suit’s eyes and lifting his lips into a placid smile. “I choose to retire.”
The suit sputtered. Xue Yang’s eyes widened, and his smile slipped. Beside him, A-Zhan lifted his head, but Lan Huan squeezed his wrist to stop him. Be still. Trust me.
“Retire?” the suit echoed. Lan Huan could see his mind working frantically. The fans’ response. The media backlash. The rumors that the new captain had forced the old one out.
“Yes,” he replied. Releasing his brother, he stood and calmly pulled Shimmering Pond’s account card from his pocket. His heart clenched painfully in his chest, but he kept his expression still as he held it out across the table to Xue Yang. Watching him carefully, the younger man rose and extended his hand to take it.
As the boy’s fingers closed around the plastic, around the avatar that had been his for ten long years, Lan Huan asked him, “Do you love Glory?”
Xue Yang’s dark eyes met his evenly. His lips started to curl, but something in Lan Huan’s gaze stopped them. “Of course,” he answered, and Lan Huan could tell he meant it.
“Then take this opportunity as a chance to bring honor to your team and to the game.”
And with that last bit of advice for the next generation, Lan Huan let go and walked away.
xXx
Lan Zhan followed silently behind his brother as they walked the halls of Frosted Clouds’ headquarters to the team apartments. His rage and grief consumed him, but he kept his steps even and his mouth shut, revealing nothing. Eventually, they came to a stop in front of the door to his brother’s room. Without a word, Xiongzhang lifted his hand to the keypad beside the door, entered his code to unlock it, and slipped inside once it had opened. Lan Zhan trailed after him like a ghost.
Even once they were safely alone in the privacy of the room, they did not speak or make eye contact. Lan Zhan stood just inside the door and kept his gaze lowered, watching from the corners of his eyes as his brother slowly unpinned the silver cloud emblem pin from his team jacket and placed it reverently on the coffee table near the center of the room. Then he removed the jacket entirely and hung it up in his closet.
Lan Zhan wanted to cry or scream or both. He ground his teeth silently as the anger beat at his chest and inside his head. How dare they do this? His brother was Frosted Clouds. He had founded the team just as Nie Mingjue had founded Stone Fortress. If Xiongzhang had wanted to retire, he would have trained someone to replace him, chosen and trained them properly. Not just yanked some stranger out of the rookie league and thrown them in the captain’s seat. The disrespect to Xiongzhang, to the entire team and all that they had built, it made him sick.
“A-Zhan.”
He looked up to find his brother standing in front of him, his gentle eyes gazing at him with concern. Sometime during Lan Zhan’s internal ranting, his brother had changed out of the team track suit into a simple blue button-down shirt and jeans. He had also pulled out his suitcase and had already started filling it.
Lan Zhan’s heart broke. “Brother …” he murmured, meeting his eyes and trying to convey all of the words that his mouth never seemed to be able to form.
Xiongzhang rested a hand on his shoulder, his expression saying that he had heard and understood everything clearly. “It’ll be all right, A-Zhan,” he assured him. “Everything will be fine.”
Lan Zhan didn’t believe that for a second, but he wouldn’t contradict his brother. Instead, he offered, “Let me come with you. I’ll retire also.”
“No,” Xiongzhang replied immediately, the hand on Lan Zhan’s shoulder tightening. “You stay here and play out your contract.” The pressure eased as he broke into a soft smile. “You’re too young to retire,” he said gently.
“Brother as well.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said with a shrug of one shoulder. “I’m pushing thirty, you know.”
Lan Zhan narrowed his eyes at him, displeased. “Twenty-six is not pushing thirty,” he stated.
His brother just laughed at him quietly and turned away. A few steps took him to the vanity where he sat down in front of the mirror. “Come help me with something,” he said, turning and beckoning Lan Zhan over. By the time Lan Zhan had crossed to him, he had opened a drawer and retrieved a pair of scissors. He held them out, something unreadable in his eyes.
“The long hair is too distinctive,” he said, his voice carefully controlled. “Too easy to recognize.” He took a small breath before asking, “Cut it for me?”
Lan Zhan’s heart twisted, but he took the offered scissors without protest. “How short?” he asked.
“Shoulder length is fine,” Xiongzhang replied, turning back to the mirror and lowering his eyes so that Lan Zhan couldn’t catch them in the reflection.
As if in a trance, he began to run his fingers through his brother’s long hair. Shoulder length would mean taking off a good seven inches, perhaps eight. Rather than start cutting immediately, he placed the scissors down and picked up a brush instead. Carefully, he began to brush his brother’s hair with long strokes. He knew he was stalling; he didn’t care.
“I will cut my own as well,” he stated after several minutes of silence.
Xiongzhang made a small sound of acknowledgement, but in the next moment, he lifted his gaze and said, “No, not yet. They’re almost certain to have a press conference to show you off now that you can’t keep your face hidden. Do it immediately before that.” He grinned, flashing teeth. “Preferably right before you go on.”
Lan Zhan’s hand stilled. It had been years since he had seen his brother grin like that. The last time he had … well, those kids had never attempted to bully Lan Zhan again. His own lips lifted into an echoing smirk. A promise of just a little bit of petty revenge.
“Mn.”
After a few more minutes of brushing, he laid the brush down and opened a drawer in the vanity. A gentle sadness washed over him as he reached in and extracted a blue and silver hair-tie. He remembered well the day Xiongzhang had bought it. The photograph they had taken together still sat in a frame next to his brother’s bed.
It had started as a welcome for Xiao Xingchen who had just been promoted to captain of Morning Field. He, Xiongzhang, and the Nie brothers had taken him around the city, showing off their favorite places to eat and hang out. And then Huaisang had had an “amazing idea” and proposed a contest to see who could find the silliest thing with their team name or logo on it. They had all spent far too much money and come home with bags of pure junk, but Lan Zhan had to admit it had been fun. And Wen Qing had appreciated the Eternal Sun socks that Xiongzhang had sent her.
Sighing lightly, Lan Zhan rolled the hair-tie over his fingers a few times before returning to his task and gathering up his brother’s hair to be secured.
As he picked the scissors up again, his brother’s phone chimed with a text message notification. He waited patiently for him to pull it from his pocket before lining up the scissors and beginning to cut.
“A-Zhan,” Xiongzhang said a moment later over the gentle sound of snipping.
“Mm?”
“Huaisang just texted me.”
“Mn.” Speak of the devil.
His brother’s voice sounded a bit strained as he continued, “He’s asking if I’m okay and if I need a place to stay tonight. He’s also promising he won’t tell Mingjue unless I want him to.” When Lan Zhan paused in his cutting with a soft “Ah,” his brother asked, “Does he have spies in the building?”
“Mn,” Lan Zhan replied, resuming his work. “But not for strategy. Only for gossip. He assured me that he would not have as much fun if he knew too much about games beforehand.”
“And Mingjue knows nothing about this, I assume?”
“Mn.” The scissors severed the last few locks of hair, and a soft curtain of black fell gently into Lan Zhan’s hands, held together by that simple tie of blue and silver. He swallowed thickly before saying quietly, “I’m done.”
His brother lifted his eyes and met his gaze in the mirror. “Thank you, A-Zhan,” he said, the emotions thick in his voice.
“Where will you go? Will you accept Huaisang’s offer?”
Xiongzhang shook his head. He ran a hand through his hair, investigating the shorter length, as he said, “I’ll find a hotel for tonight. Maybe a few nights. I …” He paused and closed his eyes, a tired expression creeping onto his face. “I need to think for a bit. About what I want to do with my life now.”
Lan Zhan nodded once, outwardly a picture of calm. Internally, he was weeping like a child, crying over and over again, Please take me with you. Don’t leave me here alone. He wanted to throw himself into his brother’s arms and bury himself in his embrace until the end of time. Instead, he simply said, “Keep me updated.”
Xiongzhang smiled at him, that beautiful smile that Lan Zhan loved with everything he had.
“Of course.”
Together, they finished packing up the room. Together, they walked down to the first floor lobby and paused before the revolving doors. They hugged, said their farewells, promised to text every day. And then Lan Huan walked through the doors, pulling his single suitcase, and disappeared into the snowy night.
Lan Zhan stood vigil for him long after he had disappeared.