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day five
It was a beautiful day in the Cloud Recesses, and Wei Wuxian was spending it buried in the library.
Wei Wuxian couldn't concentrate. Not like, "twenty thousand ideas going around his brain like swifts circling their roost" couldn't concentrate, or even (unfortunately) "his very handsome husband distracting him by sitting across from him and being distractingly handsome" couldn't concentrate.
No, it was because every time he got half way through an equation or a note, a black speckled nose came between him and his work, sniffed it suspiciously and -- nine times out of ten -- a white paw would then flash out to slap the brush in his hand and ruin his calculations.
Finally, Wei Wuxian had enough. "Teacher Lan --"
Lan Qiren, currently in the form of a large white cat with a black spot exactly the shape of his goatee on his chin, gave him a Look. Wei Wuxian could almost hear him snap, "are you doubting me, boy?"
To be fair, Wei Wuxian argued with Lan Qiren all the time. But it was too much to say that he doubted him. He sighed and started the calculation over again, Lan Qiren supervising every stroke, until he arrived at a much different solution than his first attempt.
"Huh," said Wei Wuxian.
The very tip of Lan Qiren's tail flicked, smug.
Wei Wuxian redid the formula again, and got the same answer. "That doesn't make sense," he said. "That would mean writing that character in the wrong stroke order."
Lan Qiren stood, licked his impeccable, glossy coat, and then made an eight foot standing leap to a bookshelf, picking his way through ancient manuscripts and priceless jade and bamboo codexes, holding his tail at a smug angle. He stopped and nudged at a book. Wei Wuxian barely made it in time to catch it before it fell to the ground.
The book was blockprinted, the impression of the ink faint but legible. Wei Wuxian set it down carefully on the desk and flipped through it until Lan Qiren made another spectacular leap and landed on the desk to put his paw on a page.
"Maowr," said Lan Qiren.
Wei Wuxian scanned the page quickly. "Oh," he said. "Thats a f -- entirely different way of writing that character." And the change in stroke order matched with Lan Qiren's method of solving the equation.
Wei Wuxian didn't know how much time had passed before Lan Qiren got up, stretched, and laid down on Wei Wuxian's notebook. He blinked. His eyes were sore. Lan Zhan would be upset that he had strained them again -- when had the library light faded so much? The windows were dyed with the brilliant hues of a Gusu sunset, vivid as a splash of plum wine against a white cloth. The nightpearls on the walls were just beginning to glow softly. His stomach growled, and he suddenly realized it had been much too long since he moved or stretched.
Lan Zhan would be waiting for him.
Lan Qiren lead the way out of the library, tail curved above his back.
day twelve
Lan Qiren did not, exactly, pace, even when his old condition was acting up, but he could occasionally be accused of going to the door and peering out or jumping to the top of the wall surrounding the Jingshi's yuan. "Mau," he said.
"Yes, uncle," said Lan Wangji. He didn't look up from his desk, let alone pause from his calligraphy.
Lan Qiren jumped on the desk and looked at the piece. It seemed to pass his inspection, and he got off the desk and prowled toward the door again. He flicked his tail.
"Mrrrow."
"I am sorry to say, uncle, that I do not know when Wei Ying and the children will return."
Silence, but the sort of silence that spoke volumes.
"Wei Ying is perfectly capable of sending a distress signal if he judges it necessary." Lan Wangji completed the last stroke of the character and lifted his brush. His handwriting was not as bold and vigorous as Wei Ying's flying brush style, but it was clean and precise. It was a good piece.
Lan Qiren growled.
"He will not risk the children, uncle," said Lan Wangji, firmly, and with that Lan Qiren was forced to be content.
day one
"All right, let me get this straight," said Wei Wuxian, dragging his hand through his hair and making an even more disheveled mess of himself than usual.
Lan Zhan, calm and perfect as always, continued making tea. Normally, Wei Wuxian would stop to watch him through the entire process, which Lan Wangji always made look as stately and beautiful as a court dance. Today, though, Wei Wuxian was too agitated to appreciate it.
"Your uncle is cursed? Was cursed. Remains cursed. And this curse reappears around once a year?"
"It depends," said Lan Zhan.
"Depends on what," said Wei Wuxian. He really was trying to be calm about the whole thing, but he was acutely aware of the way his voice cracked in the middle of the sentence. He took a deep breath. "So your uncle was --" Wei Wuxian choked a little -- "Teacher Lan was cursed to. He was cursed to become. A cat. And somehow --"
"'Do not speak of private matters in public,'" quoted Lan Zhan, in his prissiest, Lan-est voice. It was embarrassing, how much Wei Wuxian loved him.
Wei Wuxian could see why Gusu Lan would be reluctant to admit that their de facto clan leader occasionally turned into a cat. There was no real delicate way to mention it, even if it would not have been immediately seized as a weak point. Although, now that he thought about it, he would bet good money on Teacher Lan against any of the Jin clan you cared to name, especially if Teacher Lan was equipped with four sets of razors on the end of his limbs and a mouth equally full of daggers.
"-- right," said Wei Wuxian.
Lan Zhan poured a cup of tea in Wei Wuxian's own particular tea cup (which was objectively weird -- having his own tea cup. He tried not to think about it too much) and pushed it gently across the table.
Wei Wuxian flopped down and took the tea. "I just want to know how it even happened."
Lan Zhan stopped cleaning the tea set and let out a very small sigh.
"Oh no," said Wei Wuxian.
"It may possibly have had something to do with your mother," said Lan Zhan.
Wei Wuxian seriously considered beating his own head to a pulp against the polished wood of the table.
"The story goes that she said it might do him some good to relax."
Wei Wuxian groaned. Lan Zhan patted his head, which was so nice that he almost forgot why he was getting patted. "Is this why your uncle hates me?"
Lan Zhan hesitated.
"It's all right, you don't have to say it," said Wei Wuxian.
"Uncle felt very strongly about your mother, I understand," said Lan Zhan.
Wei Wuxian made an animal sound of despair.
day fourteen, probably
Wei Wuxian slept in, even by his own standards. He woke up to a sunbeam lying across the bed and breakfast waiting for him on the table, kept warm and fresh by a talisman written in Lan Zhan's cursive. There was even a pot of hot water with the tea service waiting for him. Lan Zhan hated tea that had been kept hot, almost as much as Wei Wuxian's habit of drinking any tea available, no matter how cold or over steeped it was.
It was so nice to be warm and sleepy, curled in a sunbeam, dressed and bathed, that Wei Wuxian spent some more time luxuriating in it before he finally got up.
When he finished eating he went outside. It was a beautiful day, even by the standards of the Cloud Recesses, cold but very clear, with a sky the clear, pure shade of fine blueware. Wei Wuxian walked slowly, until suddenly a hand clamped down on his shoulder.
Just before he whipped around to attack, the person behind him snapped, "Wei Wuxian!"
"Tea- teacher Lan," said Wei Wuxian. "You're back to --"
The grip on his shoulder tightened, just the slightest bit.
"-- this junior is happy to see Teacher Lan in good health," corrected Wei Wuxian swiftly. "If Teacher will excuse this junior --"
"Where do you think you're going?" demanded Lan Qiren.
Wei Wuxian's mouth made a split second decision without consulting his brain, and said, "To take the little ones to make kites and shoot them, sir."
For five agonizing seconds Lan Qiren didn’t respond. Then he said, "You have a lesson plan, of course."
"A lesson what," said Wei Wuxian.
"If you wish to take the young disciples out for a practical lesson," said Lan Qiren, "you must submit a lesson plan. With objectives. And citations," he added, sounding extremely smug.
"But--"
Lan Qiren's grip transferred from his shoulder to his ear and he pulled Wei Wuxian (shockingly gently) toward the library. "No arguments, boy!"
Wei Wuxian whined, but he let himself be led.
It was a beautiful day in the Cloud Recesses.
