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Today was the day: the day that Lan Zhan would finally be introducing Wei Ying to a member of his family.
Given, it was only Lan Huan. Although he knew that, despite what people might think, Lan Huan wasn’t exactly an easy obstacle.
Lan Zhan was well aware that his brother was…protective. Interfering. Loving, for sure, but also a little smothering. He’d been pushing Lan Zhan to ask Wei Ying out for years, but once it had finally happened, once Wei Ying had confessed and they’d started dating at last, his tone had changed.
Now it was no longer, “Wei Ying seems like a nice boy, don’t you think A-Zhan?” Now it was, “Does Wei Ying treat you well?” and “I never see you anymore A-Zhan, are you with that Wei Ying boy?” and “When am I going to meet this didi thief?”
He’d finally agreed to arrange the meeting upon discovering that Wei Ying had fallen under the misconception that Lan Zhan was hiding him from his family. An terrible idea that merited immediate correction.
After all, Lan Zhan wasn’t hiding Wei Ying from his family.
In many ways, it was quite the opposite.
Thankfully, things seemed to be off to a good start. Nie Mingjue was doing a decent job keeping Lan Huan’s probing questions somewhat in check, but Lan Zhan knew better than to rely on this too much. He’d seen how Nie Mingjue was with Nie Huaisang.
By the time they adjourned from the dinner table, though, and headed into the living room, Lan Zhan began to think that maybe his concern had been misplaced. Or maybe he simply hadn’t had enough faith in just how charming Wei Ying could be. A ridiculous oversight. Wei Ying had always shined brightest in the company of others.
As they all sat in the living room, though, conversation light and easy, the tone suddenly shifted. Lan Zhan sensed the change, the shimmer of anticipation in Lan Huan’s smile, and felt dread.
He looked over at his brother, locking eyes, trying to put a stop to whatever was about to happen.
But Lan Huan merely smiled at him — his most dangerous smile.
The one that always preceded…
Oh no.
“Ge—”
“Wei Ying, would you like to see some baby pictures?”
The noise that came out of Wei Ying was akin to air leaving a balloon. “Oh my fucking god yes!”
Nie Mingjue chuckled as Lan Huan rose to his feet and walked over to his bookshelf, pulling down an ugly photo album, with a blue quilted front, trimmed in yellowing white lace.
“We do not—” Lan Zhan started, not even sure what he was going to say, but Wei Ying was already gone, having plopped himself directly next to Lan Huan, looking like he was two seconds from vibrating between the atoms of the couch cushion with eagerness.
Lan Zhan sighed internally, allowing himself the length of one long, slow blink to feel sorry for himself before the squealing began.
“And this one was taken at the petting zoo,” Lan Huan said, turning yet another page in the infinitely long book.
“The petting—Lan Zhan, where are your pants?”
Lan Huan smiled, shaking his head. “He was going through a phase. Shufu eventually gave up and—ah, here, you see?”
Lan Zhan didn’t have to see to know what the next photo was, especially not when Wei Ying slid to his knees on the floor, clawing his face dramatically as he looked across the couch and Lan Zhan. “Dresses, Lan Zhan? Oh my god, oh my god I can’t take it. I’m going to die. I’m actually going to die. LOOK AT THE RUFFLES.”
“Please don’t die,” Lan Zhan deadpanned, trying to retain a little dignity, even as his ears caught fire.
“But you’re so cute. You’re lethally cute! I thought you were lethally cute now, but look at you in your little skirt.”
“Hm,” Lan Huan hummed approvingly, turning the page again. “Wait until you see the matching saddle shoes.”
Wei Ying scrambled back onto the couch, bouncing with excitement. Lan Zhan settled in for the long haul. This was only the first album, after all.
It was going to be a long, long evening.
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“That was so much fun! Your brother is so nice. And I like Nie Mingjue a lot too. They make a good couple.”
“Mn.”
“Aw, but don’t worry, gege. You’re still my favorite. You’re my most favorite.”
“Mn,” Lan Zhan hummed again, pleased.
Wei Ying recounted the evening as Lan Zhan drove, bubbly and pleased. It made Lan Zhan feel light, as though he’d filled up with helium and might float straight into the sky. There’d been nothing to worry about. Lan Huan and Wei Ying had gotten on very well, and Wei Ying had responded effortlessly to the shovel talk that Lan Zhan had been forced to pretend he didn’t know was happening.
After a bit, though, Wei Ying went quiet. Lan Zhan glanced over at him, finding him chewing on his lip. If he weren’t driving, he’d reach over and pull it out from between his teeth.
“Wei Ying?”
“Huh? Oh, I was just thinking.”
“Mn?”
“Will I meet your uncle next?”
Lan Zhan paused, his fingers flexing on the wheel. But there was no reason to worry. Lan Qiren could be judgmental, but things with Lan Huan had gone well. This would be fine, too. “If you like.”
“I do, gege. I do like. I want to meet everyone important to you.”
“Then I will arrange it.”
They pulled into Lan Zhan’s driveway, and Wei Ying reached over and unbuckled Lan Zhan’s belt. “Come on, gege. Let’s go celebrate a successful evening.”
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Lan Zhan had made a grievous error in judgment.
Dinner at Shufu’s with Wei Ying was proving much more strained than dinner with Lan Huan and Nie Mingjue had been.
That was only to be expected. Shufu was old, he was set in his ways, and he’d always been strict.
Wei Ying’s family was strict, but in a different way. Shufu encouraged Lan Huan and Lan Zhan to live the lives they wanted, but also demanded things like calmness and quiet and caution. Wei Ying’s family had demanded the impossible, loudly and carelessly and at any means.
Bringing someone like Wei Ying to Shufu’s home was like leading the proverbial bull into a china shop.
The saving grace was that both Wei Ying and Shufu were clearly trying. It warmed Lan Zhan’s heart a little even as he wished for the evening to be over quickly.
“The food was excellent, Shufu,” Wei Ying said, rising to his feet. “Here, let me clean up.”
“Unnecessary,” Lan Qiren said, rising to his own feet and beginning to grab the plates. “You are a guest. Sit down.”
Wei Ying immediately plopped back into his seat, turning a desperate look on Lan Zhan when Lan Qiren shuffled out of the room with the plates.
“It is going well,” Lan Zhan reassured him.
“Well? Lan Zhan! He hates me!” Wei Ying whispered back, loudly, raking his hands into his hair. “I’m the worst. Why did I bring up work, Lan Zhan? Nobody wants to talk about embalming fluid over dinner!”
Lan Zhan rubbed a hand over his back, trying to comfort him. He had grown used to Wei Ying’s…uh…unconventional idea of appropriate dinner conversation, but it was a little much to expect the same of others.
Wei Ying sighed, dropping his head onto Lan Zhan’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, gege. I’m the worst.”
“Wei Ying is not the worst,” Lan Zhan contradicted him immediately, hooking a finger under his chin and lifting his face to look in his eyes. “Wei Ying is the best.”
“Gege…”
Wei Ying’s lips were slightly parted, his breath fanning over Lan Zhan’s mouth. He couldn’t help himself, dipping down, catching him in a gentle kiss.
“Ahem.”
Wei Ying leapt backward out of Lan Zhan’s arms with a yelp, his chair tipping sideways. Lan Zhan just managed to catch it before disaster. Wei Ying teetered, his hands raised at his sides in surrender. “We weren’t doing anything!” he said in a guilty rush.
“Hm,” Lan Qiren hummed, eyes narrowed. “Let us move to the living room. We should speak further.”
Lan Qiren didn’t wait for an answer, turning his back on them, hand tucked behind his back as he made his exit.
Wei Ying turned big, pleading, terrified eyes on Lan Zhan, who merely patted his knee. “Come,” he said, standing. “It will be over soon.”
This was where Lan Zhan realized his error in judgment.
Lan Zhan, having grown up in the home and visited his uncle weekly since moving out, had forgotten about some of his uncle’s…decorating choices.
As they entered the sitting room, though, and Wei Ying gasped, Lan Zhan was forced to see the room again through fresh eyes.
Specifically, the photos on the walls.
“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying squealed, head on a swivel as he took it in. “You’re everywhere!”
In fairness, it was not just Lan Zhan decorating the walls. There were easily as many photos of Lan Huan. But Lan Zhan didn’t think pointing this out would make him feel any less horrified as Wei Ying beelined for a photo of him at 2 years old in a bath, a stack of bubbles on his head as he stared the camera down with a stoic expression.
“That one is my favorite,” Lan Qiren said, approaching with the air of a curator at a museum.
“He’s so serious!” Wei Ying cooed.
“Mn. A-Zhan was always a very serious child. Quiet. Well-mannered. Hardly any trouble.”
“I believe it!”
“Lan children are very easy.”
Oh. Oh no. Lan Zhan smelled danger on the air.
Wei Ying laughed, shaking his head. “Not like me! I was a demon. At least, according to Aunty Yu. Always running around and getting dirty and scraping my knees.”
“That is normal behavior for a child,” Lan Qiren said evenly, as if he hadn’t scolded Lan Zhan and Lan Huan for even walking too fast.
Lan Zhan knew what was coming next, but there was nothing he could do to stop it when Lan Qiren asked, “Do you plan to have children, Wei Ying?”
“Me? I…I mean. Probably? Some day?” he looked back over his shoulder at Lan Zhan and immediately flushed bright red. “I don’t know, Shufu. We—I haven’t thought about it.”
“Hm.” Lan Qiren hummed again, mouth tight. Then, “A-Zhan would make an excellent father.”
“Shufu.”
Lan Qiren didn’t look even a little abashed. Instead, he led Wei Ying over to one of a framed collage, featuring photos of Lan Zhan at every stage of life. From his first photo taken at the hospital in his little blue cap, swaddled in a white blanket, to him off to his first day of school, teary-eyed and red-cheeked, to middle school with his pimple-spotted cheeks.
“Once you are married,” Lan Qiren said as Wei Ying looked ready to cry over the photos, “I would be happy to help with the adoption process.”
Wei Ying, already overcome with a photo of a photo of 1-year-old Lan Zhan bundled up for winter in so many layers that there was hardly even a hint of baby except for his eyes scowling over a very fluffy scarf, swayed a little. Lan Zhan caught him for the second time that evening, sending his uncle a stern look.
Lan Qiren returned it smugly. “Wei Ying. Has A-Zhan ever told you the story of the time he decided he was going to run away to live with the rabbits?"
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After meeting Lan Qiren, Wei Ying was quick to schedule dinner for Lan Zhan to meet his siblings. “No need to meet Uncle Jiang and Aunty Yu just yet,” he said, rubbing his nose. “Not that I don’t want you to meet them, Lan Zhan, but…”
“I understand.”
As the date to meet Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng approached, though, Wei Ying grew quiet.
Well. Not quiet. But Lan Zhan would catch him staring at nothing, clearly lost in thought, more than usual. He said nothing, but did his best to distract Wei Ying when he found him in these moods. He had long since learned that this was the best tactic with Wei Ying. Wei Ying would come to him when he was ready to talk about what was bothering him.
Wei Ying did not come to him though. The date for the dinner came, and Lan Zhan found himself seated next to Wei Ying at a table groaning beneath the weight of a delicious smelling feast prepared by Jiang Yanli.
“It’s all vegetarian!” she declared. “A-Ying told me you don’t eat meat. You’ll have to let me know how it is, it was a new experience for me!”
The food was delicious, and Lan Zhan told her so, touched by the thoughtful gesture. He found that he liked Jiang Yanli—she doted on Wei Ying, as was appropriate. Jiang Cheng…well. Lan Zhan kept his opinions to himself, resigned to the fact that he simply did not understand Wei Ying’s relationship with his brother.
Overall, it was a good evening. Lan Zhan had been the recipient of two shovel talks—one loud and blustering that he struggled not to roll his eyes at. The other calmly threatening in the sort of bone-chilling way that Lan Huan would no doubt take notes on, were he here.
For all that Lan Zhan thought it went well, though, the car ride home was strained. Wei Ying, as soon as they were alone, the long drawn-out goodbyes finally completed, had fallen silent. The entire car ride home he had stared out the window, deep in thought.
Even when Lan Zhan pulled into his driveway, turning the car off, Wei Ying didn’t stir. He reached across the console, touching his arm lightly, causing Wei Ying to jump, smacking his head into the window. “Ah, fuck! Oh…are we home?”
Lan Zhan’s heart squeezed at Wei Ying referring to Lan Zhan’s place as “home”. He nodded. Then, “Wei Ying. Is something wrong?”
“Wrong? No! Of course not, gege! I think it went well, don’t you?”
“Mn.”
“They loved you. I knew they would. Who wouldn’t? Don’t mind Jiang Cheng, he’s just like that.”
“What is bothering you?”
“Me? Why would anything be bothering me, gege?” Wei Ying batted his eyelashes innocently, a well-known tactic for changing the topic.
Lan Zhan wouldn’t take the bait this time.
“Wei Ying.”
Wei Ying stopped fluttering his eyelashes and sighed heavily, crossing his arms tight over his chest and staring forward, holding himself. Lan Zhan waited, willing to be as patient as it took.
“I just…” Wei Ying trailed off.
Lan Zhan reached out and took hold of one of his hands, squeezing it gently.
“I don’t have baby pictures.”
Lan Zhan blinked, the words taking a while to sink in. “Ah.”
“I just! Look, it’s stupid. But I really liked seeing yours, you know? It was so cute, and I just…I guess I felt closer to you, somehow, getting to see you as a little kid. Watching you get all embarrassed. And I just…I guess I wanted that too. For you, and for me. But…”
Lan Zhan needed to be hugging him. He wished that he hadn’t brought this conversation up in the car.
“I don’t know,” Wei Ying continued, shaking his head and laughing bitterly. “It’s stupid, gege. I’m just being weird. Don’t mind me.” He dropped his arms where he was hugging himself and turned to Lan Zhan with a bright smile. “It was a good night, gege. Really good.”
He leaned forward and kissed Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan wrapped his hands around Wei Ying’s arms and tugged, pulling him toward him until Wei Ying, laughing, climbed over the console into his lap, where Lan Zhan kissed the melancholy away.
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Lan Zhan had an idea.
An idea that he couldn’t execute on his own.
Thankfully, Jiang Yanli had made sure to give him her phone number.
When he’d texted her about his plan, she’d been immediately on board.
‘Don’t worry,’ she’d texted back. ‘I’ll get A-Cheng.’
That had been a relief. Lan Zhan didn’t have Jiang Cheng’s number, for one, but he also didn’t really want to text Wei Ying’s brother. If Jiang Cheng had refused, it would have ruined the whole thing, and then Lan Zhan would be honorbound to hate him. And he was trying very hard not to hate Wei Ying’s family. Already a challenge, given some of Wei Ying’s stories of his childhood.
With Jiang Yanli’s help, though, the planning had been easy. She set up a group chat with the three of them, kept Jiang Cheng in check when he got difficult. Lan Zhan handled the planning. The hardest part of the whole thing, really, was keeping Wei Ying in the dark.
“Lan Zhan, who are you texting so much?”
“Family,” Lan Zhan had answered evasively. Wei Ying had left it, which was evidence enough that he suspected something. It would be a relief when the whole thing was over.
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“Lan Zhaaaaaaan where are we going?” Wei Ying whined, fidgeting with the sleeves of the red flannel he was wearing. “And why am I dressed like a lumberjack? I look ridiculous.”
“Wei Ying is very handsome.”
“That’s not an answer, Lan Zhan!”
Lan Zhan hummed in agreement, earning him a playful slap on the shoulder. “The worst, gege!”
“We are nearly there.”
Wei Ying continued to wheedle and push. They both knew that it wouldn’t work, but he seemed to be enjoying the attempt, so Lan Zhan humored him.
When Lan Zhan turned into the parking lot of the mall, though, Wei Ying made a confused sound. “The mall? You hate the mall.”
Lan Zhan didn’t answer. He did hate the mall. But this was worth enduring the crowd.
He led the way, Wei Ying at one side, clutching an overstuffed tote bag in the other. Wei Ying asked him about it, trying to catch a glimpse inside, but Lan Zhan kept it pressed closed under his arm.
When they arrived at their destination, Wei Ying looked as confused as ever.
“I don’t understand. Why are we at a photo studio?” He turned toward Lan Zhan, then waggled his eyebrows. “Lan Zhan! Is this a boudoir photographer? If you wanted some sexy photos, gege, all you had to do is ask.”
“Can’t you not be disgusting for even 2 minutes?”
Lan Zhan watched Wei Ying’s eyes widen just before he spun, noticing Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng for the first time.
“A-Cheng! A-Jie! What are you—why are you wearing that??”
They were, as planned, both dressed in matching red flannel shirts.
“Ask your boyfriend,” Jiang Cheng grumbled, arms crossed tight over his chest, face red.
Wei Ying turned on Lan Zhan, face bright. “Lan Zhan? What is this?”
“Photos,” Lan Zhan answered simply.
“Photos?”
“Come on, A-Ying,” Jiang Yanli said, hooking arms with him. “We only have an hour!”
The hour passed in laughter and shocked delight. Lan Zhan watched as Wei Ying and his siblings bickered and laughed and smiled at the camera. They buried Wei Ying in fabric leaves, took photos of both Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying sitting (or pretending to sit, give their height) in Jiang Yanli’s lap.
The photographer endured it all with good humor, scrolling through the background to match the costume changes—always matching, each new reveal making Wei Ying double over with laughter and wipe his eyes.
“Overalls? Oh my god, I—Jiang Cheng YOU HAVE THEM TOO?”
“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng snapped, face purple as he clipped one shoulder strap into place.
When they wrapped up at last, Lan Zhan took them all out to lunch at some casual dining chain, bathing in Wei Ying’s happy glow as he talked with his siblings, exuberant and lovely.
After, back at Lan Zhan’s place, Wei Ying sat in Lan Zhan’s lap, looking down at him with a swimming expression that made Lan Zhan’s heart ache beautifully.
“Lan Zhan,” he said, holding Lan Zhan’s face delicately between his hands. “What was that for? It was amazing, but…”
“Wei Ying deserved pictures.”
“What?”
“You deserve to have embarrassing photos with your family too. Now you have them.”
Wei Ying’s mouth opened and closed several times, apparently searching for words that wouldn’t come.
That was fine. Lan Zhan kissed him instead.
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“And this, A-Yuan, is a photo of me and your jiujiu getting in trouble for spilling paint everywhere! Look, Ayi is scolding us for getting paint on her!”
A-Yuan blew a spit bubble and smacked Wei Ying in the face with a flailing hand. “Aiyah! Alright, you’re right, I deserved that! Did you get it, Lan Zhan?”
“Mn,” Lan Zhan hummed, turning his phone toward Wei Ying, showing him the photo of the perfectly captured moment when A-Yuan’s pudgy little hand had made contact with Wei Ying’s cheek.
Wei Ying laughed with delight. “Perfect! Oh, we’re gonna have so much dirt on him when he gets older. Aren’t, we, A-Yuan? We’re just gonna have so many embarrassing photos of you! Yes we are! And we’re gonna show them all to anybody you bring home! Isn’t that right, Lan Zhan?”
Lan Zhan sat next to Wei Ying, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and looking down at their adorably sticky, spit-covered son. “Yes,” he agreed. “The most embarrassing.”