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Chapter Text

Wei Ying stared at his brother as Jiang Wanyin’s features crumpled in an all too familiar knee jerk fury, but Lan Zhan’s husband was no raw child anymore and had two lifetimes of experience in heading off the oncoming eruption. He had Jiang Wanyin in a headlock almost before his younger brother got past the first few syllables of “Wei Wuxian!”

“HO- ly shit.” 

Lan Zhan wistfully noted that Wen Qing had not changed much except in the quality of her language, which did not bother Lan Zhan as much as one might have thought. She’d been elegantly deadly in her previous life and now she was every bit as deadly, just less elegant.

She pulled off her sunglasses, but did not actually try to physically intervene. “Wuxian, what the fuck?”

“That’s what I want to know!” Jiang Wanyin snarled.

“Sorry, Qing-jie.” Wei Ying flashed her his most charming smile, which she failed to be impressed by. “This is my foster brother.”

The expression on her face told Lan Zhan that she’d heard at least part of the same story he had, although perhaps couched more in Wei Ying’s Jiang apologism than Lan Zhan had ever tolerated. Wen Qing took a large and deep breath, letting serenity settle upon her like a veil. 

She narrowed her eyes at Jiang Wanyin. “Jiang Cheng?” It was hard to quantify her tone, but Lan Zhan could tell (as could Jiang Wanyin, evidently) that she knew about the core transfer and Wei Ying’s subsequent brush with being a homeless teenager. It did a lot to take the wind out of the struggling cultivator. 

“It’s my little name,” Jiang Wanyin groused. “He and A-jie are the only ones who use it anymore.”

Wen Qing nodded in acknowledgement of how cultivation society’s outdated naming conventions might have contributed to this incident. Then she clapped her hands together and smiled at them with entirely too many teeth. “Both of you go outside. Settle your shit within fifteen minutes,” she said with a bright, fake cheer. “Or so help me I will put you in a get-along shirt.”

Lan Zhan narrowed his eyes at her. He didn’t now what a ‘get along shirt’ was, but it sounded embarrassing. “Do not threaten my fiance.” He doubted she’d actually do anything, but he would start this association as he meant to go on; with impenetrable boundaries. 

“Fiance!?” Jiang Wanyin bellowed and then quailed as every single waiter in earshort turned to give him a look that suggested he’d just used the only free pass to disrupt the other tables that he’d get from this establishment.

“I don’t threaten,” Wen Qing replied primly and sat down and shot her boyfriend a look that indicated he was already standing on thin ice. “You’re down to fourteen minutes.”

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes, blew Lan Zhan a kiss, and towed his little brother towards the back. “Come on, Cheng-cheng. You and me need to have a chat, I guess.” He looked over his shoulder back at Lan Zhan with an expression that begged him to put up with whatever posturing his found-family felt necessary. Lan Zhan nodded his acquiescence. 

“Should… should I go?” Wen Ning looked back and forth between Lan Zhan and his sister.   

Wen Qing gave Lan Zhan a look. “Do we both need to go?” she asked, more quietly than before. 

He’d heard Wei Ying speaking to her on the phone, discussing some of the particulars of their past. She was fascinated from a researcher’s viewpoint, but was also horrified personally. He and she had one small conversation where she acknowledged that she likely couldn’t cause him any physical harm, but that it wouldn’t stop her from trying if she needed to. 

“No,” he admitted. “They had a complicated relationship in the past as well. Circumstances are different now. I know that Wei Ying would like it if they were able to reconcile in this life, but you are both equally valuable to him.”

Jiang Wanyin didn’t seem to be nearly as deranged in this new incarnation seeing as he’d managed to enter and even maintain a romantic relationship. Wen Qing did a good job of hiding the fact that she was watching the side entrance closely for signs of either violence or the return of their absent lovers, but Lan Zhan had eons of observation when it came to the emotional entanglements of youngsters. She was worried. 

Still, she wasn’t the only one who breathed a sigh of relief when Wei Ying returned with a red-eyed and tired-looking Jiang Wanyin under his arm. They’d overshot their fifteen minutes, but Lan Zhan hadn’t been prepared to let Wen Qing actually enforce her arbitrary deadline unless he needed to for strategic purposes.

Wei Ying pressed a kiss to his cheek, which pleased Lan Zhan. He was only just becoming accustomed to how acceptable these easy displays of public affection had become. Every time Wei Ying kissed him, looped an arm around his waist, and -yes- even when he grabbed Lan Zhan’s ass in broad daylight it was a brand of ownership that he’d gone far too long without.  

“They have a ‘Benedict of the Hellbeast’ you’re gonna like,” Wei Ying turned his attention back to Jiang Wanyin, who was being accepted back into Wen Qing’s presence with body language not unlike not unlike that of a dog who’d just broken something. “It’s what Shijie always got when she came with us. It’s eggs benedict on a bed of spicy pork adobo instead of muffins.”

That and the mention of their sister perked Jiang Wanyin up slightly. “Yeah? Then do they got a beer menu?”

“The most pretentious craft drafts you’ve ever seen in your entire life,” Wei Ying said with a grin and handed over the drinks menu. 

Miraculously, they didn’t talk about it for the rest of brunch. Lan Zhan was able to enjoy the company of his fiance, a plate of sweet potato waffles dressed in blueberry sauce, and a ‘mango fizz’ that he tentatively wanted to try to recreate at home.

Unfortunately, the stay was not permanent. When the meal ended, Jiang Wanyin and Went Qing had a quiet word before she left him with a lingering kiss and exited the restaurant with her brother.

“I said we could get all the details out at our place after everyone got to eat,” Wei Ying admitted sheepishly, when Lan Zhan looked at him with questions in his face.

“Mn,” was all Lan Zhan could say. He didn’t have a better suggestion despite his instant reluctance to admit his old nemesis into their space. 

Jiang Wanyin kept his peace while they drove back to the apartment and even unbent so far as to tell Wei Ying that it was ‘a nice place, I guess’ which Lan Zhan took to mean that he found their apartment to be as comfortable and attractive as Lan Zhan himself found it to be the first time he visited. 

Their apartment had something of the same ambience of the Jingshi, back in Cloud Recesses. Unfortunately, Lan Zhan’s old house was now part of a World Heritage site and there were now regular tours that went through the front garden so he wasn’t able to live there anymore. 

Whether that was a subconscious action to decorate the apartment that way on Wei Ying’s part or not, Lan Zhan had felt instantly at home there and it had been a very long time since he’d bothered to take ownership of a particular space.

“Please have a seat,” Lan Zhan attempted to be a good host and indicated a spot on the couch where their guest might sit.

Jiang Wanyin started to, but the instinct left to him by his elder self flared and he stopped about halfway through sitting down on the couch. He narrowed his eyes at Lan Zhan and -deeply skeptical- asked, “Wait. What’s wrong with it?”

Wei Ying had been pouring glasses of water in the kitchen and came over to see, “Lan Zhan!” he hissed. 

“There is something wrong with it!” Jiang Wanyin flared.

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Wei Ying insisted as he set down Jiang Wanyin’s water on a soft felt coaster that had appeared in the mail a few days ago. Lan Zhan had complicated feelings about them because, on the one hand, he liked them. On the other, Wei Ying had bought them by himself and Lan Zhan had developed intense feelings about Wei Ying buying things himself. 

Wei Ying should have everything he wanted, of course, but he should also receive them from his loving husband. Then, preferably, they could have sex about it. 

He did his best to remember that might be extreme if all Wei Ying wanted to do was to keep rings off the coffee table. They’d have to hammer that out the next time they arrived at the need for a negotiation talk. 

“You are so full of shit, you know that?” Jiang Wanyin complained, but took his water. “Is it the whole couch or just that spot? I will sit on the floor. Watch me!”

“It’s a long story,” Wei Ying sighed and pointed to a less objectionable spot on the sofa. Lan Zhan felt the entire thing was irrevocably tainted, but if this was an acceptable compromise for his future in-law then so be it.

To give him credit, Jiang Wanyin sat through the entire saga of Wei Ying’s time after they parted with only minimal interruption. Some elements of their story were sanitized in consideration of their audience. Wei Ying didn’t lie, exactly, but he didn’t tell the entire truth either. He just left gaps in his retelling and allowed his audience to fill them in without guidance.

(“You met online? What, like Tinder?” “Something like that.” “Oh, I get it. It was GRINDR.” Lan Zhan made a mental note to look up ‘grinder’ when he had a moment unobserved. This was probably going to be the official party line going forward.)

“So, you’re from the Lan sect,” Jiang Wanyin addressed him about halfway through Wei Ying’s story. Wei Ying had excused himself to the restroom, leaving them alone together. He, by that point, knew that Lan Zhan and Wei Ying were zhiji and had gone through a lengthy adjustment period.

Lan Zhan inclined his head in assent.

“Then why do I hate your ass?” He ground out through gritted teeth. “I don’t even know any Lans!”

“You and I knew each other in a previous life,” Lan Zhan blinked slowly in a way that he knew drove Jiang Wanyin’s elder self insane. The trait apparently persisted through reincarnation because a dark red flush started to creep up the man’s neck. “It was not an amicable relationship.”

“OB viously,” Jiang Wanyin seethed, but had to force himself to pull it together as Wei Ying returned. 

Wei Ying gave them both a suspicious look, but sat back down against Lan Zhan’s side. “Where did I leave off?” he asked the room at large.

“You sold some talisman designs to the Peacock,” Jiang Wanyin prodded him. “That where he’s been suddenly getting money? It’s been driving Mom nuts. A-Jie started depositing her dowry checks into a college fund for her future kid.”

Wei YIng made a face. “Is she still…” he trailed off and made a gesture that was perhaps meant to indicate some unspecified form of financial abuse. Lan Zhan never met Yu Ziyuan personally, but what he’d heard about her wasn’t complimentary. Her current incarnation was no more personable, it seemed. 

“Yeah,” Jiang Wanyin replied tersely. “She is.”

“Fuck,” Wei Ying muttered. “Shijie hasn’t said anything.”

“She texts dad and he just cuts a check from the public fund then transfers the balance from her trust,” Jiang Wanyin shrugged one shoulder. “He doesn’t need to clear reimbursements with the other trustees. There’s only about a year or so left before she gets the lump sum.”

“Ah, sorry, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying suddenly realized they’d been having half a conversation in front of him. “I didn’t mean to leave you out.”

“There have been irregularities with Jin-er-furen’s dowry?” Lan Zhan guessed. He was surprised it hadn’t been paid out in a lump sum to begin with, but it had been a very long time since anyone had discussed such a thing in his presence. He hadn't thought people still provided dowries, but cultivation society was notoriously old-fashioned in the uppermost echelons.

“It’s not technically a dowry,” Wei Ying explained. “They don’t call it that anyway. Shijie and Jiang Cheng received trust funds from the sect when they were little because they were candidates for marriage alliances and the sect's charter requires it. The trusts pay out when you either reach a certain level of core development or, in Shijie’s case, have either been married for five years or had a kid.”

There, his gaze slid guiltily towards Jiang Wanyin, who narrowed his eyes back.

“You know?” he asked, sotto voce and hunched forward, like someone could overhear.

“I guessed when she visited,” Wei Ying confirmed.

They nodded at each other, communing on some level Lan Zhan was not privy to, and that was the end of the subject.

“Anyway, Zixuan paid out my retroactive fees so I bought this place,” Wei Ying lied to his brother’s face. Lan Zhan did not care to explain why he’d purchased the property in Wei Ying’s name and their properties were about to become communal anyway so it hardly mattered. Whatever Wei Ying thought he needed to say to prevent an eventual explosion was what Lan Zhan would back up. 

He didn’t particularly want to be confronted with Jiang Wanyin’s particular brand of prudish propriety either. 

“I’m still night hunting though,” Wei Ying continued, “So even though we’d planned to meet face to face under controlled conditions we ended up running into one another on a hunt. It knocked me on my ass and now I have two lifetimes worth of memory.”

“Yeah?” Jiang Wanyin cocked an eyebrow, amused at them both. “Were you anybody I know of?”

Wei Ying wet his lips and looked at Lan Zhan, beseechingly. “Lan Zhan, help?”

Jiang Wanyin looked back and forth between them, suspicious once again. “What?” he asked.

Lan Zhan sighed and got out his hunter’s license, which he laid on the coffee table between them. Jiang Wanyin looked at it. Then he picked it up. Then he compared the picture to Lan Zhan’s face. 

“BullSHIT,” he said as he threw the card back at Lan Zhan, which was what Lan Zhan had anticipated as soon as he handed it over.

Rather that answer, Lan Zhan let his carefully controlled qi fully slip its leash. Wei Ying’s qi was brighter than it once had been, but it still had a darksome quantity to it that reminded Lan Zhan of a velvety evening in August. Lan Zhan’s qi, however, was blinding in its brightness and icily cold. If Wei Ying was the humid Summer darkness then Lan Zhan was high noon in the peak of Winter. He’d been titled long before his spiritual aura ever became visible, but ‘Hanguang-jun’ ended up suiting him very well.

Jiang Wanyin was struck silent, even once Lan Zhan pulled himself back within the boundary of his skin. 

“You…” he pointed a shaking finger that didn’t seem to be sure whether it wanted to be directed towards Wei Ying or Lan Zhan. “You!”

“Yeah,” Wei Ying agreed sadly. “Looks like history repeats itself.”

The strength cut away from Jiang Wanyin’s limbs and he sagged backwards, gone somewhere inside his head.

“Oh the bright side,” Wei Ying continued, with a smile that was only a little bit forced. “Jin Zixuan is fucking terrified of me now. It’s amazing.”

What was amazing was the fact that that shared tidbit seemed to rally Jiang Wanyin. He swallowed on what might have been a lump in his throat and asked, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I can’t wait for you to see,” Wei Ying grinned and Jiang Wanyin found one to share.

“Alright, alright,” Jiang Wanyin scrubbed at his eyes. In this life he was a frustrated crier as well. Lan Zhan filed that knowledge away for future use. “You still haven’t explained what the fuck is wrong with the couch.”

“Oh, right,” Wei Ying winced. “So, I told you about Mo Ziyuan, right?”

About five minutes later, Lan Zhan found himself attempting to maneuver his end of the sofa around a corner in the stairwell as Jiang Wanyin angrily yelled, “PIVOT!” 

Wei Ying had given up on talking to either of them and was just filming at this point, laughing at them until he cried. 

Lan Zhan wasn’t sure what the joke was, but he looked forward to finding out. He was in too good of a mood now that the last lingering evidence of the home invasion was making its laborious way down to the curb. Wei Ying wanted to donate it, but if the couch couldn’t be maneuvered down the stairwell then he suspected that -for the first time in two lifetimes- that Jiang Wanyin would be his willing partner in crime and arrange for it to mysteriously break in half before it could be returned to the apartment.

He was already thinking of possible replacements.

All told, there were worse methods of getting his way.

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian's first warning was the sensation of something digging at his ankle.

When he looked down, he didn’t quite understand right away what he was looking at. It was a little ball of mud, black grease, and fur that was not shaped in any way that Wei Wuxian was immediately able to identify as an animal until he spotted its dragging ears. 

“Is that a rabbit?” one of the nearby cops asked.

“Ah, fuck,” another one muttered. “Does anyone have a cage in the back of their squad car?”

Wei Wuxian mostly ignored them. Yes, they were at a crime scene, but the rabbit digging insistently at his ankle looked like it had been outside for a lot longer than the people inside had been dead for. He’d just gotten done interviewing the spirits (a murder suicide) and neither person had mentioned a pet, although they’d had plenty to say otherwise. “Hang on, I don’t think it belonged to the people inside.”

It was a domesticated animal, that was for sure. Wei Wuxian had been reading up on rabbits in anticipation of being a good Bunny Co-parent to Lan Zhan’s future fur babies, so he understood that it was weird when he knelt down and the rabbit let him pick it up without complaint or fighting until it got near the pouch of his hoodie and immediately wiggled inside. 

‘I guess its old owner wore hoodies,’ he thought to himself. He could feel the little body inside curl up on itself and start grinding its teeth to self-soothe.

“Easter,” another cop (a woman this time and thus 70% more likely to be involved in an animal rescue as he understood White People) sighed as she came around the back of one of the parked cars with a patchy stained towel. “They start showing up on the streets around now when they aren’t cute anymore or mom and dad realized that the kid was lying when they said they’d keep the hutch clean. You wanna hand it to me? I know a rescue.”

It was December so fuck a lot of people for that. 

“Let me check with my boyfriend first. We’ve been looking for a pet rabbit. I think a street rescue is exactly his speed.” Wei Wuxian’s hand automatically cupped protectively around the tiny body hiding in his shirt. Animals never liked him and being picked first out of all the people standing around was doing things to his hindbrain. 

Like, probably it was because he was standing closest to the dumpster where it had been hiding and he was wearing a hoodie, which the little guy’s bunny brain apparently identified as Highly Desirable Safety. Wei Wuxian wasn’t listening to logic brain today. He was listening to emotion brain, which said ‘BUNNY LIKES ME BEST. PROTECC FOREVER.'

That was going to last exactly as long as it took the rabbit to lay eyes on Lan Zhan, but he was going to stay on this ride until it came to a complete stop, thanks 

“Well, I’d say you’re off to a good start,” the Animal Rescue cop chuckled. 

Bunnicula stayed firmly inside Wei Wuxian’s shirt on the ride to the pet shop. He also stayed firmly inside Wei Wuxian’s shirt the entire time they were in the pet store, even through his and two store associates’ best efforts to get him out without actually getting forceful about it. In the end, Wei Wuxian’s brand new pet carrier sat empty on the passenger seat of his car amongst all the bunny paraphernalia he’d just acquired. 

They’d need it for the eventual vet visits, he told himself. 

Wei Wuxian got his precious burden and all his precious burden’s luggage into the apartment without an escape attempt or raising the attention of his resident Karen in 2B, who was determined to enforce the apartment complex’s rules even against its owner. They were mostly rules that she’d made up on the spot.

“Okay, Prince Harey…” he sighed once they were inside and the door was closed behind them. “...I’m sorry to say, but it’s bath time.”

Lebun James was no more willing to leave his safe warm hoodie warren in the apartment than he was in the pet store, but this change of venue gave Wei Wuxian the advantage of being able to just take his entire top off. It was easier to maneuver Lief Erikbun out of the pocket when he didn’t have to be wary of little overgrown claws digging into his stomach. 

Marlon Bundo --sorry, Marilyn Bunroe -as he discovered once he followed Google’s first result for a how-to on sexing a rabbit- did not like bath time. 

Unfortunately, she’d gotten into some motor oil at some point so he couldn’t let her clean herself despite the general advice about bathing your rabbit being ‘don’t.’ Fortunately, he had the advantage of being able to temporarily sedate her with his qi so she didn’t panic and injure herself in the water. He was also able to dry her out a lot faster so by the time she came out of her temporary trance, she was clean and dry and situated in a fresh hoodie pocket with the mats in her fur either trimmed or combed out. The final result was a vaguely cinnamon colored, lop eared rabbit. She had a white belly and little clouds of white on her back. She wasn’t large, but if Officer Animal Rescue was correct then she was probably about as big as she was going to get. 

Given the way their evening had gone so far, Wei Wuxian cautiously left her in his hoodie pocket as he went through the apartment and began the process of rabbit-proofing it. He’d actually done some of it already in anticipation of being able to surprise Lan Zhan later so there weren’t any wires left in places where an enterprising bunny could find and chew them. Any wires he couldn’t relocate were wrapped in bunny-proof tubing.

He was kneeling on the floor, trying to assemble the $400 three-tiered cottagecore bunny house that the pet store had talked him into, when he felt a little body cautiously slide out of his pocket and land on the floor. He blinked down at Amelia Earhare as she began to snuffle the carpet. 

To his surprise, she didn’t bolt. She just oonched around, snuffling, and occasionally hopping back to his vicinity like he (or rather his hoodie) was home base. 

Wei Wuxian cautiously returned to his assembly project. He had a vague notion of keeping The Chosen Bun more or less free range in the apartment, but she needed to be in the hutch at night or when his larger Bun was in the mood for the kind of entertainment that little bunny girls didn’t need to see.

Speaking of Bun, it was a good thing that Lan Zhan was occupied at Lan Tower for the next few days. Wei Wuxian loved his fiance, but he was also enjoying being the trustworthy human for once. In their previous lives, every small and fluffy thing with the exception of Apple would make a beeline for Lan Zhan and would go right past Wei Wuxian if they had to.

Once he had the hutch set up and furnished with food and bedding, Wei Wuxian sat back down on the floor with his back to the wall to watch his new rabbit daughter sniff out her new domain. He got her to eat a little bit and drink some water, but mostly she wanted to explore. 

So maybe he lost track of time. Maybe it came as much of a shock to him as it did to Fluff’n’Stuff when the front door flew open to admit Lan Zhan, a day and a half early, with his qi spiking around him like little solar flares of anxiety.

Bunette translocated from the kitchen, where she’d been investigating a corner, into the Safety of the Hoodie. Only this time, Wei Wuxian had been laying on his stomach so she went in through his collar and burrowed inside

“Crap!” he realized aloud, “I missed check in! Bun, I’m sor…?” Wei Wuxian stopped as Lan Zhan laid a finger over his mouth. 

Lan Zhan knelt down next to him and craned over so he could peer into the natural opening of Wei Wuxian’s collar to see the quivering little brown body inside. 

“Where?” Lan Zhan asked, laying fully down on the floor for the best angle.

“She hit me up after that double homicide from earlier,” Wei Wuxian would have been more worried about his fiance going single-word statements like this except for the soft look of wonder on his face. “Little girl definitely knows what people are for. I’m thinking she got dumped and I looked friend-shaped right as she got desperate enough to find help.”

Lan Zhan’s golden eyes flicked up to meet his and -impossibly- softened further. “Wei Ying is good,” he rumbled. “She could tell.”

The praise hit Wei Ying right in the same place the rabbit had earlier. He ducked his gaze and chuckled, “Wei Ying isn’t that good. Wei Ying forgot to check in with Gege tonight.”

“Wei Ying may prioritize settling our pet over check in,” Lan Zhan allowed and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Do you need help sitting up?”

“Yes, I definitely do,” Wei Wuxian groaned. “This is a super awkward position and I think my spine is about to go on strike.”

Oddly, Harriet Thumpman remained deeply skeptical of Lan Zhan for the following days. Maybe it was because he didn’t wear anything with big or sturdy enough pockets for her to get into and was therefore sus. Wei Wuxian had plans to test that theory, but he hadn’t found anything yet that he thought Lan Zhan might actually wear.

In the meantime, their rabbit daughter slowly came out of her shell to the point where they could take a family picture together with her in Wei Wuxian’s lap so he could send it to his recently expanded group chat.

WWX: Please welcome the latest addition to the Wei-Lan household. We are thinking of naming her Greta Bunberg.

Chengcheng: NO

Qing-jie: NO

Bestboi: oh, what about Cinnabun? 

Bestboi: Because of the white patches on her back! She looks just a like a cinnamon roll with icing.

Shijie: Oh how precious!

PCock: is that her full size?

Zewoo!: Wuxian, please tell me that is not the reason why Wangji walked out of a conference call with the Elders on Friday.

Zewoo!: Wuxian

Zewoo!: Wuxian I do not like how long it’s taking you to reply.

Chapter Text

“Sorry about the carpet,” Wei Wuxian said as Wen Qing turned a slow circuit of the little living room. It was his first time showing an apartment. Only two of his units had come up empty in the brief time that he’d owned the building. The first time he’d let the management company he’d hired handle the rental process, but then Wen Qing asked him to let her know the next time one came up free.

“I’m done with roommates,” was all she’d say. Wei Wuxian didn’t need to be a diviner to know that she’d been fine with roommates right up until she started being interested in evening companionship.

Jiang Cheng was still in town and showing no signs of leaving, but he was still in the hotel so it wasn’t hard to see where this was headed. Fortunately, the rent was whatever Wei Wuxian wanted it to be and he didn’t mind giving his found family a hefty discount --especially if she’d agree to take a turn charging the building wards.

Most of his tenants were, um, super white. So they didn’t have a cultural history of seeing talisman papers posted and leaving them the fuck alone. What that meant for him, until he found a way to disguise the building protections well enough, was that the warding spells periodically got broken by his well-intentioned yet ignorant tenants when they tried to help him out by taking down the ‘weird little flyers’ that kept getting posted by the entrances. 

The ‘weird little flyers’ were why this unit was both empty and something of a wreck. Karen in 2B thought the building was being tagged for a robbery and actually posted spy cameras in the hallways until she caught him repairing a talisman. 

Getting the cops called on him was not the best way to learn that she hadn’t believed him when he’d introduced himself as the new owner. Worse still, they were not cops he knew this time and he had to wake Zhou up out of a dead sleep to keep them from arresting him. 

That was the beginning of what ended up as Baby’s First Eviction.

Karen and her husband Stu left without too much argument, which was about all he could say in their favor. She left a letter stuck to his door on her way out informing him that since he was keeping her security deposit, that she’d made it worth the money.

Wei Wuxian hadn’t actually said anything about keeping the deposit, although he sure was now. The carpet sported big splotches of paint and all the window treatments had vanished with the former tenants. They hadn’t managed to put holes in the wall, but the microwave had vanished along with the blinds and the fridge had been unplugged with food left in it. 

“That’s fine,” Wen Qing replied absently. “I was going to ask if we could pull up a corner to see if there’s parquet under it like in your unit.”

“Worth a shot,” Wei Wuxian allowed. “I’ll let you know. If we have to replace it, you can come with me to look at swatches.”

“The bedroom looks like it’s alright,” Wen Qing continued her leisurely tour. “Guess they didn’t want to mess up the place where they were sleeping.”

“I guess.” Wei Wuxian shrugged as they wandered into what he thought was a closet, but turned out to be an entire Sex and the City sized dressing room. “Woah,” he muttered as he peered around. This room had also been stripped of anything easily portable, which was most of a custom closet organization system.

“I think this used to be a bedroom,” Wen Qing said as she peered behind a floor-to-ceiling mirror that leaned up against one wall. “There used to be a door here.”

Sure enough, there was some slightly rippled drywall hidden by the mirror. It wasn’t an invisible patch, but it didn’t look like something that Karen and Stu might have been able to do by themselves either. Their old lease was for a one bedroom so this might have been a weird renovation decision from the previous owner. 

“If we open the door back up then you could have a study,” Wei Wuxian said as he turned a circle, trying to picture it. The room was kind of runty for a second bedroom and there was no window, which was probably why it had become a closet. “What do you think?”

“I would have taken it no matter what just to live in cultivator friendly housing,” Wen Qing replied frankly. “Gimme a lease.”

They shook on it and she was in before nightfall. Jiang Cheng arrived with her, loaded down with boxes of books and opinions about how she needed more bookshelves. Wei Wuxian kind of wondered if something had gone down with her roommates, but ultimately decided it wasn’t his business --not in the least because Wen Qing’s former roommates were all terrifying and he wasn’t convinced that talking about them wouldn’t draw their attention.

Unfortunately for Wei Wuxian, it only took about a week before he found out why Wen Wing suddenly needed to move. He’d already known that he was getting Jiang Cheng as a tenant at no extra charge for the duration of this visit and all future visits.

What he hadn’t realized was that this wasn’t a visit.

The first breeze of the oncoming storm arrived when NYPD called on a day when Wei Wuxian was working from home. His talisman work with Zixuan was taking off and he’d begun to spend more time just at home dealing with emails. He usually dropped everything when the cops called, but on that day he’d promised to be on a conference call later that he actually didn’t want to miss.

Jiang Cheng was hanging out with him, recording a video of Cinnabun in the middle of an epic binky, and picked up on the conflict in Wei Wuxian’s tone when he asked where the crime scene was. 

“Hang on a sec,” he said to Zhou and covered the receiver when Jiang Cheng waved in his face. “What?”

“Send me,” Jiang Cheng said shortly. “I don’t got shit to do and I’m used to working with cops. Call me a subcontractor or whatever. We’ll work it out when I get back.”

Frankly, it was a good deal for Wei Wuxian so he didn’t ask too many questions as he hopped back on the call. “Yeah, nevermind, Zhou. I have a shidi in town who I can send out for you. It doesn’t sound like you need a spiritualist and he’s an A-rank exorcist. He can take care of your residual haunting.” 

Jen Cheng went out, dispelled a cold spot that was creeping out some crime scene techs, and came back with a contract he found on LegalZoom to retroactively cover their asses. 

Unfortunately, finding out that Wei Wuxian had junior cultivators to call on just meant that Wei Wuxian’s phone started ringing even more often. The NYPD loved Jiang Cheng whereas they’d only vaguely tolerated Wei Wuxian, but it sort of made sense. If you didn’t know better, then you’d think Jiang Cheng was a New York city native. He had the attitude, the fashion, and everything but the accent.

“Shijie, don’t laugh!” he complained to his sister during their weekly call. “What am I going to do when he goes home?”

Yanli was quiet for a moment, “A-Xian…” she said hesitantly and Wei Wuxian sat up because that was her ‘bad news’ tone. “...I think you need to talk to A-Cheng.”

“Shijie, what’s going on?” he asked. In the background, Lan Zhan stepped out of the kitchen where he’d been making tea and cutting up a snack for Cinnabun with his brows creased in concern. Wei Wuxian waved him off with a little finger heart sign to let him know everything was fine.

“He hasn’t said anything to me…” Yanli hedged. “...it’s just that dad has called a couple of times lately, asking if I’ve talked to A-Cheng. Mom called me too, but I didn’t pick up and she didn’t leave a message. I didn’t tell them anything, but I think something is going on.”

That didn’t sound good. 

Getting Jiang Cheng alone again for a conversation was rough enough that he knew Jiang Cheng was for sure hiding something. Finally, he called in the big gun.

WWX: Qing-jie, I need to talk to Chengcheng.

WWX: He’s avoiding me. Shijie thinks something is wrong. It’s probably time to do something about it.

Qing-jie: That would explain what crawled up his ass and died lately.

Qing-jie: I’ll send him over. Wangji can come hang out here if you two need privacy.

WWX: Maybe.

To give Jiang Cheng credit, he knew which side his bread was buttered on. He was on Wei Wuxian’s doormat within fifteen minutes. Lan Zhan answered, took one look at the mulish expression on Jiang Cheng’s face, and went to get his book to take with him to Wen Qing’s.

Jiang Cheng held it in until the door closed behind Lan Zhan’s back. “So?” he bristled, clearly knowing what this was about and still unwilling to be the first one to crack.

“Shushu and Yu-furen have been calling Shijie asking about you,” Wei Wuxian was a more experienced hand at managing his shidi than he once had been. He went and flopped on the new couch that Lan Zhan had gotten to replace their old one. Cinnabun hopped up next to him and flopped over against his thigh to be petted. 

A shudder chased through his foster brother’s shoulders and -bingo- Wei Wuxian knew he was onto something. Jiang Cheng flopped onto the couch, not unlike Cinnabun, and poked sullenly at one of her fluffy feet.

“I’m not going back to California,” he grumbled. “I didn’t know if I wanted to stay in New York when I came, but I think I’m gonna.”

Holy shit. 

“What does Qing-jie think?” Wei Wuxian asked very carefully, as if the bloodline heir of Lotus Pier hadn’t just basically admitted that he was quitting the sect. 

“She got an apartment so we could see if we can live together without killing each other.” Jiang Cheng shot him the side eye. “What do you think?”

No wonder Jiang Cheng was suddenly interested in finding local work. His trust fund was impressive, but he wasn’t man wife material. This was good for Wei Wuxian, personally, because it meant he could formalize their partnership. Maybe turn it into a business or something. Zixuan would have opinions about that, but there were some rather more pressing concerns.

“So I’m guessing you told Shushu and Yu-furen and that’s why they’re looking for you,” Wei Wuxian rubbed the back of his head. 

This was going to get so ugly.

On the one hand, Jiang Cheng was an adult. He had his own money. It was a free country. He could go where he wanted and do whatever he liked. 

On the other hand, the cautious traveller was often advised to set their clocks back 500 years when entering cultivation society. Shushu might see things Jiang Cheng’s way, but Yu-furen would never, not in a million years. Her son was her legacy, despite the fact that her legacy was kind of an awful one. He didn't blame Jiang Cheng for wanting no part of it.

Jiang Cheng ground his jaw, but nodded. “I talked to them last week,” he admitted at length. “It went about as well as you’d expect. I got a noise complaint at the hotel because of it. I was going to talk to you, but I needed some time to cool down. A-Jie didn’t tell me they were bothering her.”

“Bothering is probably a strong word,” Wei Wuxian said. “She’s hypersensitive to their moods. They probably have no idea she suspects anything.”

“Aaah, fuck.” Jiang Cheng buried his face in the cushions, much to Cinnabun’s alarm. She wormed into the open front of Wei Wuxian’s sweater and then poked her little reproachful face out. “Sorry, sweetie,” Jiang Cheng added with a gentleness and compassion he never had for humans.

“So what happened?” Wei Wuxian asked. 

Something had to have happened. Giving up the broad, flower-lined path laid out for him at birth and screwing over the juniors who’d one day serve him wasn’t something he’d have done casually.

Jiang Cheng groaned. “Shit got worse after you left.”

Wei Wuxian frowned. “Worse how?”

“Worse as in they nearly got divorced,” Jiang Cheng lifted his gaze enough to glare. “They ended up not doing it because the pre-nup that the Jiang sect signed with the Yu sect would have taken us to the cleaners.”

“What?” Wei Wuxian could barely picture it. Yes, his foster parents made each other miserable, but they were part of a marriage alliance that reaffirmed a very ancient connection between the sects. They didn’t like each other, but they took the marriage seriously. They didn't screw around. They didn't abuse one another's finances. They had kids.  “How?”

Jiang Cheng rubbed the back of his head, “It came out that Mom knew the entire time that you were my core donor.”

Ice flooded Wei Wuxian’s veins. “No,” he shook his head, unable to process that. “No, I didn’t tell anybody until I got to New York. Even Shijie doesn’t know.”

“She was your emergency medical contact, dumbass! Of course she knew! She was supposed to pick you up from the hospital after!” Jiang Cheng finally sat all the way up just so he could glare properly. “Dad found out when he took a call from the hospital for mom. He thought it was about me, but it was the surgical team calling to follow up on your aftercare because your medical records hadn’t been updated with any notes.”

“I…” All thought and mental processing power failed Wei Wuxian. He sat there, numbly petting his rabbit, for an unquantifiable length of time. “...why?”

“She never said,” Jiang Cheng turned abruptly away. “Dad accused her of trying to kill you. She said if --nevermind what she said. It was bullshit anyway.”

Wei Wuxian could imagine what Yu-furen had said. Her favorite line on the training field was ‘if you’re weak enough to die from that then you should die.’ He doubted she was serious. Usually it was what she said if someone was bellyaching about being made to lift weights, but he could still hear it echoing in his head. 

“Dad tried to demote her within the sect, but her maternal family got wind of it and there was a huge court case,” Jiang Cheng continued, sullenly. “Jiang Sect lost and mom still has joint leadership of the sect, but the court case aired a lot of the main family’s dirty laundry in front of our people. We’ve been hemorrhaging talent ever since and I…” he scrubbed his face. “...I started to realize I didn’t want to stay either. Maybe I’ll take over one day, but mom and dad are probably going to live for two or three hundred years! Longer even!”

Okay, yeah. That was a long time to live in close quarters with your parents being trapped in an acrimonious marriage. 

“Hey,” Wei Wuxian sat Cinnabun to the side so he could very carefully pull Jiang Cheng into a hug. “That was really brave.”

He could tell Jiang Cheng really wanted to be hugged because he didn’t throw Wei Wuxian off. He just leaned into the embrace.

“My therapist has been after me to leave for years,” Jiang Cheng admitted after a while, once he was ready to pull back. “Do you know how bad it has to get for a therapist to flat out tell you to run away from home?” He rolled his eyes. “I waited until my trust paid out and came out here. Zixuan said something that made me think you were in the area and Qing-er is here. A-Jie still comes to visit the city sometimes too, but she won’t set foot in California anymore. It seemed like my whole life had moved to the East Coast without me so I decided to give it a try. I expected to take longer to find you though.”

Wei Wuxian chuckled and considered a future in it with all his favorite people accessible to him once more. Fuck, he had a lot to do now, didn't he?

They were going to need to overhaul the building wards and he’d need to get Lan Zhan to help. He couldn’t keep Yu-furen out of the city, but he didn’t want her showing up at either of their doors. At minimum, Qing-jie shouldn’t have to get dragged into the fight.

“We’ll work it out,” Wei Wuxian promised and ruffled his brother’s hair. “So I guess this means I get to keep my subcontractor, ah?”

Jiang Cheng glared. “We’re starting an LLC. Your taxes are already a fucking nightmare.”

“Good thing you’re here then, isn’t it?” Wei Wuxian chuckled.

"Guess so," Jiang Cheng grumbled, but one of his hands found Wei Wuxian's forearm where it was resting on Jiang Cheng's shoulder and held on tight.