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Wei Ying is on his way back from delivering the last pizza of the night when he almost wobbles his bike into an elderly man standing on the sidewalk. The man has his head down, finger aggressively punching at the screen of his phone as he mutters darkly to himself. Wei Ying steers his bike toward the entrance of an alley and puts the kickstand down. He's tired and his legs hurt, but he's never been able to leave even a stranger in the lurch. "Hi," he says, to get the man's attention. The man looks up, the streetlights highlighting a close-cropped beard and neat, salt-and-pepper hair. He's dressed nice too, Wei Ying notices, and the briefcase by his feet is probably like, genuine leather. The man studies him back, and Wei Ying doesn't miss the flicker of disgust at the holes in his jeans. Wei Ying grins. "I did buy them like this, just so you know."
The man humphs. "That is not an improvement."
Figuring the ice is broken, Wei Ying steps closer. He peers at the phone screen in the elderly man's hand. "Having some trouble?"
To be honest, Wei Ying is expecting another biting reply, but it seems the man is just as worn out right now as Wei Ying himself, because he sighs and explains, "My nephews assured me this was easier than hailing a cab, but I cannot make this application work."
Wei Ying hears the frustration in his tone and softens toward the old man. It must be rough living in a world where everything suddenly relies on tech you don't know how to use. "Are you trying to call an Uber?" he asks.
"Yes. I am selecting the picture of the vehicle-" He stabs his finger on the screen again- "But I do not wish to change the date or time!"
Wei Ying nods. This will be an easy fix. "Can I see?"
The man exhales hard through his nose and holds the phone out. "Please."
Wei Ying accepts it and squints at the bright screen. "So-" he holds the phone so the old man can see it too- "This is just for scheduling. If you want the car right now, you only have to put the location in."
The man peers at the screen, dutifully watching as Wei Ying demonstrates.
"Where did you want to go?" Wei Ying asks.
"Cloud Recesses Estates."
Wei Ying glances at the man, a little surprised. "You're a Lan?"
It's the old man's turn to be surprised. He gives a neat nod and scrutinizes Wei Ying's face again. "Mn," he says. "And who might you be?"
Wei Ying laughs awkwardly. "Ah, I'm nobody. Doesn't the entire city know the Lans live at Cloud Recesses?"
The man makes a noise that suggests doubtful suspicion, but mercifully stops pushing. He points to the phone screen. "What next?"
"Ah, right!" Wei Ying hurries to bring all focus back on the app. "Then you just pick what kind of car you want."
The man nods, a hand coming up to stroke his beard thoughtfully. He scans the list then frowns. "These are not car models."
Wei Ying swallows a laugh. "No, not like that. Like, you can have normal Uber - just an average car - or maybe..." Wei Ying scrolls the list. "Or Comfort is probably more your style." Wait, this man is a Lan Lan... He reassesses. "Black will call a luxury town car."
The old man's frown has gotten deeper. "Which will ensure there will be no other passengers?"
"Just don't select Uberpool, and it'll only be a driver."
"And these drivers are registered with a board that ensures they will conduct themselves correctly?"
Wei Ying pauses. "Ummm..." Clearly, the nephews left out a full explanation of what exactly Uber is. He's tossing up whether to dance around the truth or not, when he feels something sharp poking into his back. For a second he thinks he might need to crack his spine, put it back into place after seven hours on his bike, but then he smells the overwhelming stench of alcohol and a voice says beside his ear, "You're gonna go to the alley, no trouble."
Wei Ying freezes, blood turning to ice water. He glances at the old man, who has frozen too, eyes locked on the man Wei Ying can't see.
"Come on. Both of you, or I'll gut you right here." A hand slaps onto Wei Ying's shoulder and starts roughly pulling him backwards.
Calmly, the old man says, "I can't leave my briefcase in the street."
The man behind Wei Ying snorts harshly. "Fine. Grab the bag slow."
With impressive grace for a man of his apparent age, the Lan dips his knees and grasps the bag's handle. Then Wei Ying is being awkwardly shuffled backward, into the dimly lit, closed-in space of the alley. They go past Wei Ying's bike at the entrance, and Wei Ying gives it a glance. Whatever's jabbing his spine - he assumes it's a knife - presses in a little harder. Right, no chucking his bike at this maniac then. "Can we help you out somehow?" Wei Ying asks when they come to a stop. Amazingly his voice doesn't shake when he says it.
The man scoffs a laugh. "You can give me all your money, kid. And you too, old man."
Wei Ying sighs. "I worked hard to earn this."
"And I just work smarter. Come on, empty your pockets."
Wei Ying's tired and super over the night. He would also rather not get stabbed. He is disappointed though - he'd worked tonight to save enough to get A-Yuan a really good birthday present this year. "Fine, fine," he says. "But my money pouch is on my bike."
"Then give me that phone for now."
Wei Ying smacks himself internally. The phone is locked now, but he could have pressed the emergency call button! Still, he reflects, as he opens his hand, with only talking going on, Dispatch probably wouldn't have sent anyone. A dirty, gloved hand snatches the phone from Wei Ying's palm and tucks it away in what sounds like a jacket pocket. The old man has been watching this exchange carefully. Wei Ying can see the lines of his body are taut, but there's no panic on his face. His eyes are keen and almost deadly, glittering in the dim light. Who knew a rich, snobby Lan could be super brave?
The man behind Wei Ying gestures. "Now your watch, old man. And that ring on your finger."
The Lan appears to muse over this. "The watch will be easy enough to sell. But I can't imagine the same will be true for a signet ring of the Lan Clan."
Apparently unused to being spoken to so calmly in the middle of a mugging, the man behind Wei Ying seems to gawk for a moment. Then he shakes himself and says, "I'll fucking melt it down or something! Just hand it over!"
The old man nods sagely and unbuckles his watch. Wei Ying can feel sweat beading on his temple; in contrast, this old Lan guy is cool as a cucumber. The thief leans forward, tipping Wei Ying uncomfortably at the waist. "Hey," he can't help saying, "I'm not that kinda girl."
The thief swipes the watch and yanks Wei Ying upright again. He shakes Wei Ying a little. "Can't keep that big mouth shut, can you, kid." His attention returns to the old man. "Now the ring."
The old Lan pauses, apparently mourning the loss of what Wei Ying assumes is a family heirloom, before slowly sliding the ring off his finger. The gold glints in what little light sneaks in from the street, and Wei Ying can just make out a symbol of tiny, intricate clouds. The ring is over the tip of the old man's finger when-
It clatters to the ground with a noise that makes both Wei Ying and the thief jump. The old man looks forlornly at where the ring is sitting on alley-gross asphalt. "Apologies. My faculties are not what they used to be."
Cursing, the thief moves the knife from Wei Ying's spine to across the back of his neck. It's alarming to say the least, and Wei Ying can't help but look reproachfully at the old man for being so clumsy. But when he meets the old man's eyes, there's an intensity in them that makes Wei Ying's mind sharpen. The cogs of Wei Ying's brain are whirring as he glances down at the ring and then back up at the old man. He nods, ever so slightly. The old man returns the gesture. The thief is working out how to bend down to get the ring while still keeping hold of Wei Ying. (He could just demand the old man pick it up, but Wei Ying isn't about to offer this asshole any suggestions.) Finally, he settles on bending Wei Ying forward again, keeping the knife against the back of Wei Ying's neck. This is a mistake. Wei Ying immediately tips forward too far, going down on his hands and knees. At the same time, the old man has picked up the briefcase and thrown it as hard as he can into the thief's face. Which must be pretty hard actually, because the man gives a shout and stumbles back.
Next thing Wei Ying knows, he's being hauled to his feet by the wrist. He quickly snatches up the ring, not wanting it to get lost, and unthinkingly slips it onto one of his own fingers. It's a little loose, but it stays as he comes upright and spins around. Beside him, the old man murmurs, "Well done."
"Thanks," Wei Ying says breathlessly.
The thief has shoved the briefcase away and is cursing again. He uses words that make even Wei Ying wince. Streetlight glitters on the very long blade of a knife as the furious thief advances on them.
Wei Ying kind of feels like common sense suggests they run. But Wei Ying finds himself game if the old man is. He knows a little bit of tai chi.
Turns out, the old man knows a lot of tai chi.
Before Wei Ying can even move, the Lan is spinning gracefully forward. The knife flashes and Wei Ying grits his teeth, but the old man seems two steps ahead. In just a couple of moves, the would-be mugger is clutching his arm and howling. Then the knife goes spinning away and the man is on his ass, then his back. He curls in on himself, sobbing pathetically. The old man dusts off the shoulder of his suit, rights his jacket, and turns back to Wei Ying.
Wei Ying thinks his mouth might be open, so he shuts his jaw with a click. "That was... Oh! You're bleeding!" Before he can really think about it, Wei Ying is shucking off his shirt and rushing to the old man's side.
"Inappropriate," he says as Wei Ying binds his forearm where blood is bright against the pale blue of his torn sleeve, but he lets Wei Ying finish the makeshift bandage anyway.
"I guess we should call the police?" Wei Ying suggests, body still buzzing with adrenaline.
"Yes." The old man glances at the prone, whimpering form of the thief, then back at Wei Ying. "Do you have a cell phone?"
Wei Ying remembers the old man's phone is still in Asshole's pocket and nods. He trots back to his bike and unzips the fanny pack hanging from the handlebars. It takes him a couple minutes to explain the situation, then he returns to the old man's side. "Cops will be here in five minutes. Paramedics not far behind." Wei Ying cracks a grin. "Although I think he's gonna need them more than you! That was amazing!"
The old man sniffs, jerking his chin high and folding his hands behind his back. "It's important to practice mental discipline. And the self defence is also beneficial."
It takes Wei Ying a second to realize the old man is actually embarrassed and that even in the dim light the lobes of his ears are visibly red. Wei Ying's grin widens.
The cops soon arrive, and the old man immediately takes over explaining what happened. Nonplussed, Wei Ying just stands nearby with his arms over his chest. He shivers a little - the air is actually cold without a shirt on. A civilian car, albeit a very nice civilian car, pulls up before the paramedics arrive, and a figure gets out and hurries over with long, floating strides. The guy is about Wei Ying's own age, and he's completely fucking gorgeous. When he makes eye contact, Wei Ying forgets how to breathe. Thankfully, the beautiful man beelines toward the conversation happening to Wei Ying's right.
"Uncle," the beautiful man says worriedly. His voice is deep and smooth and Wei Ying wishes he could drink it. "Are you alright?"
The cops seem to recognize a family needing to talk, so the two officers go to oversee the other two steering the hand-cuffed would-be thief toward their vehicle.
The old man nods at the beautiful man (a nephew, Wei Ying guesses), and says patiently, "Yes, Zhan-er. Stop fretting."
The beautiful man - Lan Zhan? - gets a little furrow between his eyebrows. "Then what is this?" he asks, gesturing to the faded band t-shirt tied around the old man's arm.
"Just a scratch, Zhan-er. Nothing that can't be tended to at home."
The beautiful man's expression doesn't shift at all, but he gets this aura that sharpens his incredible features, almost like he wants to be angry but can't.
The old man carefully unwraps the shirt from his arm, checks the bleeding has mostly stopped and hands the shirt to his nephew. "Please return this for me."
Lan Zhan's attention zones in on Wei Ying again. Wei Ying's knees feel a little wobbly. Probably because he's coming down from the adrenaline rush. Probably.
Lan Zhan approaches with the shirt in hand. He starts to hold it out, but then pauses and frowns down at it. "There are stains on your shirt."
Wei Ying laughs a little too high-pitched. "A lot of them were there already," he jokes.
Lan Zhan is still frowning at the shirt. "I will have it washed and returned to you."
Wei Ying pouts dramatically. "But if you do that, I'll have to bike home shirtless and the ladies won't leave me alone."
Lan Zhan's head jerks up, then he assesses Wei Ying's state of undress. Under such attention, Wei Ying's face feels like it's on fire. He almost blurts that if Lan Zhan will look at him the whole way home, he won't be cold even without a shirt. Thankfully, he manages to simply stand there blushing like an idiot until Lan Zhan has nodded and is removing his own pale blue suit jacket.
Wei Ying just about shrieks, waving his hands in panic. "No, no, I can't take your jacket! It probably costs more than I'll earn my whole life! And you don't know me, Lan Zhan, I'll find a way to accidentally ruin it and then I won't be able to give it back to you!"
Lan Zhan ignores him and drapes the jacket over Wei Ying's shoulders. "You saved my Uncle's life. You may keep the jacket."
Wei Ying makes various sounds of protest. "I barely did anything! Really, your Uncle saved *my ass*." Wei Ying checks to make sure the old man isn't paying attention before he adds behind one hand,
"Honestly, he's kind of a total badass!"
Lan Zhan turns slightly to gaze at his uncle who is signing a statement with the police, and makes a hum of consideration. "I was unaware. Perhaps my brother and I should keep a closer watch on him, to ensure he does not find more trouble."
Wei Ying laughs.
Lan Zhan seems somewhat surprised by his reaction: his eyes are wide when he turns back to Wei Ying.
Wei Ying bites his lip. "Was that... Not a joke?"
"It was. Just... Very few people realize when I am making one."
Wei Ying waves a hand dismissively. "That can't be right. I bet you're hilarious!"
Something in Lan Zhan's face shifts. Then, he says, curiously softly, "May I know your name?"
"Oh right, sorry!" Wei Ying sticks out a hand. "I'm Wei Ying."
Lan Zhan repeats, "Wei Ying", gently, carefully, like he's tasting the syllables in his mouth.
Wei Ying's knees finally give out. Lan Zhan has reflexes as impressive as his uncle's and manages to help Wei Ying sit on the sidewalk. Wei Ying giggles stupidly. Lan Zhan is looking down at him, beautiful, concerned face haloed by a street light. "Perhaps you are experiencing shock," he says. "I will have a paramedic check you over."
Wei Ying opens his mouth to blab that he's fine, really, he only just almost died and then met the hottest man he's ever seen, but - perhaps fortunately - Lan Zhan is already striding away toward the ambulance. Wei Ying watches him go and does his very best not to stare at Lan Zhan's ass. Unfortunately, he's feeling pretty loopy right now (and it's quite a nice ass), so he doesn't entirely succeed. He snaps to when a cop approaches to ask him for his statement, and his hand only shakes a little when he signs.
The cop watches him and says, "Think you should go get checked out in the ambulance-" He looks round and then smiles at Wei Ying as he takes the clipboard. "Nevermind. Looks like your boyfriend is bringing someone over."
Wei Ying's brain, which hasn't been working so great for the past thirty minutes, rattles to a stop. "Boyfriend?" he repeats, sounding dazed even to his own ears.
Before he can set things to rights, Lan Zhan's deep voice is calling his name and the cop is walking away. Wei Ying blinks blearily at the approaching figures and then slumps his shoulders in defeat. "Hi, Qing-jie..."
Wen Qing sucks her teeth and offers the shiny aluminum blanket she has in her hands. "I'd ask how you got your dumb ass into this, but."
Wei Ying pouts. "I literally just stopped to do a good deed!" he whines.
As usual, Wen Qing, his roommate and cousin of A-Yuan, shows him little sympathy. "Are you injured anywhere? Hit your head?"
Wei Ying shakes his head.
"Okay, I'll get A-Ning to come pick you up and take you home."
"I am happy to drive Wei Ying home," says that pleasant voice with a low timbre.
Wen Qing eyes Lan Zhan, then looks at Wei Ying looking at Lan Zhan, and shrugs. "Alright. But if you murder him and bury him in a field, make sure you do it properly."
"Qing-jiiieee."
"See you at home, Wei Ying."
And then Wei Ying is left alone with Lan Zhan again. Wei Ying jumps a little when the super rattly aluminum blanket is wrapped over his shoulders, over Lan Zhan's borrowed jacket. As he turns to watch Lan Zhan's (big) hands pull away, Wei Ying realizes the jacket smells of sandalwood. It's calming, and he comes back to himself a bit. "Thanks, Lan Zhan," he says tiredly. "And for the ride."
"It is no problem." A (big, slender-fingered) hand reaches into his vision. "May I help Wei Ying up?"
Wei Ying smiles and puts his hand into Lan Zhan's. Because the fact that Lan Zhan's hand is so big it absolutely dwarfs Wei Ying's own, prompts a small crisis in Wei Ying's synapses, it takes him a second to realize Lan Zhan is frozen in place. "Uh... Lan Zhan?"
Lan Zhan blinks and looks at him intensely. "Where did you get this ring?"
"What ring?" Wei Ying says, before he remembers.
Lan Zhan seems suddenly furious and Wei Ying doesn't understand why until Lan Zhan says tightly, "These rings are only to be worn by direct descendants of the Lan Clan and their spouses. Why do you have this, Wei Ying?"
"I-"
"Zhan-er, it's mine." The old man (wow, Wei Ying really needs to work out his name) appears to stand beside Lan Zhan. "I dropped it and - Wei Ying, was it? - ensured it did not become lost."
Lan Zhan doesn't seem to relax, but he does nod at his uncle and actually pull Wei Ying to his feet.
The old man holds out a hand. "If I may have my ring back, please."
"Yeah, yeah, of course!" Wei Ying flails to pull it off and carefully set it into the old man's palm.
The old man clasps it protectively for a moment, something bittersweet on his face, and then returns it to its rightful place. "Well, this has been a very interesting evening," he says with finality, "But my Uber has arrived. Zhan-er, I will see you at home. I will call your brother and tell him not to worry."
Lan Zhan dips his head with a quiet, "Mn."
Wei Ying looks over to the road, where the police car is just pulling away from the curb and the ambulance's doors are being closed. Between them, a 2019 Hyandai Sante Fe is idling. "Not the luxury option?" Wei Ying blurts in surprise.
The old man sniffs haughtily. "This works well enough for ordinary people. It will be adequate for my own transportation needs."
"At least you figured out the app."
A hint of a smile ghosts across the old man's mouth. "Yes. My teacher was also adequate."
Wei Ying laughs as he walks away.
"My Uncle does not often warm to people," Lan Zhan says quietly at Wei Ying's elbow. "And it is even rarer for him to offer a compliment." He pauses, as if considering his next words. "Wei Ying must be very special."
"Lan Zhaaaan!" Wei Ying whines, hands coming up to cover his wicked blush. "You can't just say things like that to me!"
And Wei Ying does not see it.
But Lan Zhan smiles.