Chapter Text
Lan Wangji loves working with animals. He has always loved them deeply. He loves spending time with them, petting & playing with them. He even enjoys the less glamorous chores such as tidying up their various messes. Instead of repulsion, Lan Wangji gains a deep sense of fulfillment from completing these tasks. In fact, he had always possessed a deep seated desire to care for others, whether it be a person, animal, or even the little hoya plant sitting at the front desk of his office. Lan Wangji was simply meant to love and care deeply, though his reticent demeanor very rarely portrays it.
As a child, barely old enough to remember, his mother recognized his capacity for love early on and always reminded Lan Wangji to use it for good; it was a lesson, a plea, that he did not fully understand until much later in life, when the world showed itself to be much more complicated and much more cruel. At the time, all that mattered was that he loved his mother, and because she was the one to say it, he would keep those little lessons close to his own heart long after her death.
Little A-Zhan wanted to spend all his time with his mother, but only got to be with her one weekend out of the month. She tried to make the most of their short time together by planning activities to do with her two sons. Their favorite activities were seeing the animals in their local park, and visiting wildlife preserves, farms, or rescues.
On weekends when she was too fatigued to go out, his mother would instead find documentaries and movies for them to watch together. A-Zhan always insisted on watching at least one wildlife documentary, his brother readily supporting his choice each time.
It was during one of those movie marathons that A-Zhan’s mother sat him on her lap, while tucking his brother into her free arm, and they settled in to watch a documentary on snow leopards.
At one point in the documentary, a little kitten had gotten lost and wailed for its mother. A-Zhan’s heart ached for the little creature, knowing too early what it was like to be ripped away from comfort and safety. Naturally, he started to cry in sympathy. Small sobs and hiccups escaped his lips as A-Huan panicked and fussed over him in worry. He wasn’t sure what could have caused his precious didi to start crying out of the blue like this!
His mother stayed much more collected in the face of her son’s tears. She had simply cleaned A-Zhan’s cheeks with the sleeve of her soft sweater, and cooed at him with a smile on her lips. She told A-Zhan that his heart was simply too big for his chest, look how much it leaked everywhere! He was practically set to burst with all the love he stored in his little body. She said all of this as she tickled his sides and poked his damp fat cheeks, much to his displeasure.
His previous tears were almost entirely forgotten as he squirmed and fussed in her lap. The way she smiled and laughed at all his pouting made A-Zhan feel as though his mother could see past all of his bravado, directly into the core of his being. He wondered if she could tell how much he secretly craved her attention, how much he loved her. He never had the chance to ask.
His mother was right, Lan Wangji had a lot of love stored up and it only grew as he got older. Caring for animals had come natural to him, though as he aged he realized how much more complicated it could be. When animals got sick or injured, they couldn’t use words to explain what was hurting them. However, Lan Wangji learned that if you know them, and if you are patient, animals have their own way of communicating. It was just the simple fact of learning their language.
It came to no surprise when both Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen enrolled into veterinary school as adults, both being avid animal enthusiasts even after their mother’s death. Lan Xichen gravitated towards larger animals such as cows and horses. He had always been especially excited for their trips to the local farm as a child. Growing up, Lan Xichen was very much a horse girl, so it was only natural that he would specialize as an equine and livestock veterinarian.
Lan Wangji felt strongly in specializing as an exotic vet, even if his uncle thought it to be a bit of a waste. However, Lan Wangji wanted to enter a field where he was needed. There was a steady increase in the availability of exotic animals, which left lots of owners with few options when their pet was sick or injured. While it was easy for Lan Wangji to connect with animals, he found it much more difficult to connect with humans. He hoped that by helping his clients’ beloved pets as best he could, he could show that he cared for them as well, in his own quiet way.
Eventually, through hard work and many hours spent studying, Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen opened up their own veterinary practice together. With the help of their uncle, they meticulously planned the layout to best provide care for a diverse animal population. Due to the nature of their clientele, Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen had their own separate work areas. The main building was almost entirely Lan Wangji’s, with several examination rooms and a spacious waiting room. Lan Wangji’s in-patient rooms were generally separated by animal family: one for canids & other large domestics such as suidae, one for rodents, leporids & mustelids, one for amphibians, reptiles, & aquatics, one for avids, and a small room for felines. Lan Xichen often traveled to his clients, but as a precautionary measure, had a larger facility where he could still provide care.
There was a heated debate between the two brothers about how many rooms Lan Wangji had dedicated to his side of the practice in the clinic. Lan Xichen insisted that he should be given at least one room for his own office. However, Lan Wangji was stubborn and refused to put the avids in the same room as the rodents, citing the list of concessions he’s already made with placing canids with the larger domestics. It simply did not make sense class-wise. Lan Wangji needed separate rooms for the cats, as most cats simply do not get along with most of the other types of animals he treats. He also can’t put the birds in with the rodents either, and he can’t put either of the two in with the reptiles and aquatics! Not only is there a risk of larger birds possibly attacking or eating any of the cold-blooded patients, and said cold-blooded patients possibly escaping and eating any rodents, there are already 5 classes of invertebrates being shoved into that one room as it is! They are running a respectable practice, not a classification free-for-all!
They ended up compromising by building Lan Xichen a small office connected to his outdoor facility. It cut into their budget, but it was worth it for the safety of their patients, and also prevented any clashes with animal classification–per Lan Wangji’s expert opinion. Which he can say now, since he has a doctorate in veterinary science.
The two brothers were lucky enough to be able to build their dream office at such an early age. Lan Wangji truly loves going to work every day, even during the slower, more stagnant ones. He lived for his work and enjoyed doing so, even if Lan Xichen encouraged a more balanced approach. Sure, Lan Wangji may not do that many other activities outside of his work. He has a few hobbies, but they are exclusively solitary activities. He doesn’t spend that much time with friends, or have anyone waiting for him at home. Lan Wangji did not even have his own pet–something he may consider changing in the future. Regardless, he was happy. He was content with his life.
* * *
Today was one of the slower, sluggish days at the Cloud Recesses Veterinary Hospital. Rain was projected in the forecast from that afternoon to late at night, and the few appointments Lan Wangji had scheduled for the evening were canceled. Lan Wangji had sent the receptionist home early, deciding to sit at the front desk in their stead. He is reading through a light novel, his reading glasses perched on his nose, when his night-shift veterinarian, Mo Xuanyu, comes in for his shift.
They exchange polite greetings and discuss some of their current in-patients. After their exchange ends, Lan Wangji takes a look outside the front window of his clinic.
Slightly wilted gentians and very soggy plants decorate the exterior. No matter how many times he tells his clients to have their pets urinate on the designated patch of grass, he still semi-frequently catches them letting their animals pee all over his little garden. As he looked at the sorry looking flowers, he pondered whether it was a good time to place a fence around the area to prevent his clients from completely killing them.
However, before he could begin researching decent barriers, he notices a familiar car pulling into the parking lot. The car belonged to his brother’s friend, Nie Mingjue. It wasn’t uncommon for the older man to come visit Lan Xichen during work hours, but usually he would pull into the back and park next to his brother’s office.
Lan Wangji watches as the large figure of Nie Mingjue climbs out of the vehicle. The hood of his jacket is up, and he is clutching a bundle of towels to his chest. Lan Wangji is also surprised to see Nie Huaisang stumbling out of the passenger door, scrambling to open up an umbrella in the process. He chases after Nie Mingjue, who is already rushing to the clinic. The younger brother struggles for a moment to hold the umbrella high enough to protect all three of them from the rain, until the taller man grabs it from him with his free arm and continues his rush to the door. Through the glass pane, Lan Wangji can hear Nie Huaisang shriek as water dribbles onto his shoulder during the transfer.
Lan Wangji quickly opens the door and steps aside to let the pair in. Nie Huaisang tries to shake off as much water from the umbrella as possible before stepping in, but he still ends up splashing droplets along the tiles and the bottom of LZ’s pale blue scrubs.
“Hey, did you get any of the texts from Huaisang or Xichen?” Nie Mingjue asked, wiping his feet on the front mat as an afterthought before walking further into the clinic.
Lan Wangji watches in dismay as the tall man bypasses the front desk and lets himself into one of the examination rooms, still tracking water in as he goes. All the rooms were empty so it didn’t really matter, but this breach of protocol still made Lan Wangji bristle.
“No, I did not,” he replied. He had admittedly been too engrossed in his book to notice any new messages.
Setting aside the blatant disregard for how a veterinary visit operates, Lan Wangji follows after the older man. It’s likely an emergency involving one of their pets. It is much too small to be Nie Mingjue’s giant tortoise, Bixi, or his tegu, Baxia, which means it must be Nie Huaisang’s bearded dragon.
This is not the first time Mulberry has come in for what, at first, seemed to be an emergency, but quickly turned out to be a false alarm. The past three “emergencies” turned out to be the bearded dragon either overreacting to a minor mishandling, such as the time she came in with a limp when Nie Mingjue’s sock-clad foot barely grazed her own, or playing up her illness for more treats. The spoiled little creature has a flair for the dramatic, and sometimes sends her owner into an inconsolable, equally dramatic panic.
However, the Nie Huaisang following Lan Wangji into the examination room is vastly different from the usual sobbing, loud mess he becomes when panicking over his reptilian child. In fact, this Nie Huaisang’s face is ashen, fear is present in his eyes, and the corners of his mouth are pinched in distress; much more put together than how he usually appears in the vet’s office.
Lan Wangji closes the door behind Nie Huaisang and approaches the examination table. He motions for Nie Mingjue to set the bundle of towels down onto the surface as he gathers a few supplies to complete a general exam. “What happened?”
“I was out walking Bixi when the rain started coming in.” Nie Mingjue started. “I heard a scream and found this guy being attacked by the neighbor’s shitty dog in the alleyway. We brought him here as soon as we could.”
Lan Wangji paused in his preparations. They brought in an injured stray? This definitely changes things. He stops what he’s doing and carefully starts to peel open the towels, which he now notices are spotted with fresh blood.
Inside the bundle is a shivering wet fox, bleeding from its neck. The poor thing is about as big as a tomcat, which is on the smaller side of most fox species. The fox seems relatively healthy, though definitely underweight. Lan Wangji can see the fox’s hip bones and spine jutting out from their thin frame. It’s likely that the fox is not getting steady, or very nutritious meals.
He watches carefully as the creature opens its eyes and focuses on him. He worries, for a moment, that the fox is going to be aggressive, but they quickly look towards Nie Mingjue and let out a small, pained whine.
The large man offers a hand to the injured creature, earning him an appreciative lick before he carefully pets the fox between their ears. “He’s been pretty friendly, considering the circumstances.” Nie Mingjue explains.
“Mn.” Seeing that there isn’t much danger of getting bitten while working, Lan Wangji rummages in the cabinet and retrieves both a syringe and pain medication. After measuring, he carefully pushes away the fur to inject the dose. The fox bares its teeth for a moment in a wince, but goes back to soaking up the attention Nie Mingjue gives him.
Lan Wangji repositions the fox’s neck and carefully starts to push through the dark fur. The bite wound is deep, but the blood oozing from the lacerations is not bubbling, nor is the fox’s breathing labored or wheezing. “It’s unlikely that the bite punctured into their esophagus. There are no broken bones or bleeding under the skin. They will need some stitches and antibiotics, but should recover well.”
“That’s good to hear. Huaisang was pretty worried he wasn’t gonna make it.” Nie Mingjue nudges his brother who has been quiet the entire time. The man in question jolts and looks away, his fingers nervously twisting the ring pop socket on the back of his phone.
“He looked really bad, Wangji! Da-ge just burst in through the door with Bixi in one arm, and that little baby fox bleeding all over his chest in the other. I thought da-ge got bit too, there was so much!” Nie Huaisang whines, hiding his mouth behind his phone.
“The dog didn’t even go after me. I yelled at it and it dropped the fox, then ran back into the neighbor’s yard through the hole it dug under their fence.” the older man shrugs. “There wasn’t even that much blood. There was no reason to make me change my shirt before we left.”
“It was scary! Wangji would definitely have been frightened if we came with you looking like that!” Nie Huaisang huffed in response.
Lan Wangji severely doubted that, but did not voice his opinion. He simply started working by first sterilizing the area, then carefully stitching together the biggest puncture wounds. The fox was likely feeling the effects of the pain medication by now, his body slowly relaxing under Lan Wangji’s fingers as he works. Thankfully, the majority of the puncture wounds are small enough that they don’t require any stitches, though they will definitely need a topical antibiotic.
“Wangji, do you think this little baby is someone’s pet? He’s so friendly and sweet, even when he’s injured!” Nie Huaisang asks, momentarily snapping Lan Wangji out of his concentration. The fox in question opens one eye to look at Nie Huaisang, snorting at him.
“He is not a ‘baby’. He’s an adult, just smaller than average.” Lan Wangji ties off a suture before beginning another.
“Oh, but he’s so small, just like a baby! Maybe we should call him A-Ying?” Nie Huaisang muses.
Lan Wangji feels the fox jolt underneath his fingers at the other man’s loud proclamation. He quickly pulls away the needle he was just about to push through the broken skin to avoid an improper puncture. He levels Nie Huaisang with a glare, which quickly causes the other man to hide his face behind his phone and step closer to his older brother.
“It’s likely that he was socialized to be around humans. If he is someone’s pet, he likely has a name.” Lan Wangji says pointedly as he resumes his work.
Nie Huaisang waves his hand dismissively, “Well, even if he does have a name, we don’t know it, right? Might as well give him a temporary one. I think A-Ying suits him. Doesn’t it, Da-ge?”
Nie Mingjue snorts and crosses his arms. “If he has an owner, they should be taught a lesson about not letting their pet get out of the house right before a storm.”
Lan Wangji hums, tying the last suture. Looking at the sorry state of the little fox’s dry coat, the half-chewed claws, and the malnutrition, it’s more likely that the fox had an owner at one point, but was abandoned to the streets. He does not voice his opinions, however, as they could be incorrect. He hopes that his assumption is correct though, as it would be even more worrying to find out that this fox is being left in this condition by a neglectful owner.
After cleaning up, Lan Wangji sits the fox up to place a recovery collar on him. Lan Wangji is not a fan of the “cone of shame”, and tries to only use them as a last resort for his patients. This type of collar looks similar to a neck pillow, and is smaller and padded for comfort. Unfortunately, he is running low on the size that would fit the little fox. He had recently participated in a local event where pet owners could bring their cats to get spayed & neutered. It had taken quite the hit on his supplies. After digging through the diminished pile, the only one that seems to fit properly was purchased by Lan Xichen, and resembled a strawberry frosted donut with the sprinkles printed onto the fabric. Lan Wangji mentally apologizes to the little fox for the indignation as he snaps it into place around his neck.
Once the donut collar is on the fox sits there stiffly, paws splaying out on either side of him. He shrinks his head back in what may be an attempt to get his head out of the donut, but all it does is fold his skin under his chin, giving him a few double chins. Nie Huaisang giggles, and quickly snaps a few pictures, typing furiously on his phone for a few moments. Even Nie Mingjue, a normally surly individual, cracks a grin. The fox does not make any further attempts to remove the donut, reluctantly resigning to his fate with a huff.
Both Lan Wangji and the Nies agree that it is probably best that the vet take over caring for the fox while he recovers. After both brothers give a goodbye to “A-Ying”, Nie Mingjue being pushed to do so by his insistent little brother, they head out back into the rain.
Lan Wangji cleans up the examination room, disposing of the materials he used and cleaning off the counters. He carefully moves A-Ying from the dirtied towels to a new fresh set to rest on. The poor thing was already fast asleep. He must have been tuckered out from a combination of the chaotic day and the pain medication the vet had given him. The little creature was a limp noodle in Lan Wangji’s steady hands as he was transferred, only letting out a sleepy grumble as he was disturbed. It was unlikely that A-Ying would be inclined to move from the little nest on the table, so Lan Wangji felt safe to leave him to his dozing while he went to the front desk to check in on his coworker.
By this time, it is far past regular business hours for the clinic. Mo Xuanyu is already at the front desk, reading up on the new information written in their in-patient charts.
Lan Wangji hired Mo Xuanyu as one of the first members of his core staff when he opened the clinic. The younger man was closed off at first, hesitant to deluge much information about himself. Lan Wangji would call him shy, quiet even. However, it was clear that he was anything but under the guarded layers of protection he kept up for the first few months of working with him.
Mo Xuanyu stated that he did not enjoy dealing with people and preferred strictly working with animals during their initial interview, which Lan Wangji could relate to at times. It worked out as such that his sleep schedule coincided perfectly with the night shift, so Lan Wangji took a chance and hired him on and has not regretted it once. Mo Xuanyu was an excellent vet and one that Lan Wangji was grateful to have on his team.
After working with him for some time, Mo Xuanyu opened up and has become much more comfortable with Lan Wangji. However, Lan Wangji, at times, is uncertain if this is a good thing or not. Mo Xuanyu has a quick wit, often prone to sarcasm and teasing. He is not afraid to poke and prod at the tacturn, reserved man when he’s given the chance. Even with the teasing, Lan Wangji finds that he is happy to work with him.
Lan Wangji gives Mo Xuanyu a polite greeting before explaining the situation with their newest patient, asking the other vet to post a found ad on the clinic’s social media and website. Mo Xuanyu follows Lan Wangji into the examination room, where said fox is napping away on a set of fresh towels.
The fox wakes up to give a pleasant greeting to the night vet, rump wiggling as he stands to invade the younger man’s space, licking his cheek and nose in his excitement. Mo Xuanyu sputters and laughs, holding the fox back so as not to strain his injury. It’s as if the accident hardly affected the little fox. Lan Wangji sums it up to the pain medication working its magic.
Mo Xuanyu pulls out his phone to snap a few pictures of the fox to post with the ad. As soon as the fox spots the phone, he sits up straighter and looks expectant. He turns around in an attempt to groom his tail, but grumbles when the donut collar blocks his access. The fox turns back to Mo Xuanyu and wriggles in place for a moment before tilting his head to the side, mouth parting into an approximation of a toothy grin. His eyes crinkle as if he’s smiling. It’s cute, though a bit unsettling to see a fox attempting a very human expression. The night vet gives Lan Wangji a puzzled look before snapping a few photos.
“Hey, stop giving me that look, you little weirdo. It’s creepy.” Mo Xuanyu scolds the fox with good humor.
Lan Wangji is dubious that the fox understood, but the little creature stops grinning and turns to his other side, still looking at the camera expectantly. His tail now thumps against the towels he sits upon. Mo Xuanyu laughs, and takes a few more photos before he straightens up.
“I’m guessing whoever had him before must have trained him to take photos for social media. Maybe we can find the owner’s account that way and get in contact with them.”
“Mn, that is a good idea. I will try searching tonight.”
“Cool, I’ll get this posted in the meantime. You want me to get him set up in a kennel for you, Lan-zǒng?”
Lan Wangji makes a bit of a face at the term of address, knowing Mo Xuanyu uses it to tease him specifically because he dislikes it. He shakes his head, “No need. I will settle him in while doing my rounds before leaving.”
Mo Xuanyu gives an affirmative thumbs up before heading back to the front desk to post the ads, while Lan Wangji gathers the fox into his arms.
The fox readily melts into the vet’s hold, front paws draped on his shoulder, tail swishing happily. Lan Wangji feels a cold nose sniff his neck and up to his ear, only a few moments passing before the fox begins to enthusiastically lick the side of his face. He barely flinches, but it is noticeable enough for the fox to get more determined in its efforts, tail wagging faster. Lan Wangji readjusts his hold to carefully push the fox away from his face, already feeling a few pieces of stray, loose hair sticking to his now wet cheek.
Instead of going for it again, as Lan Wangji expected, the fox pushes his snout into Lan Wangji’s hand, begging for affection. He sighs at this rather sweet ply for attention, and concedes to some well deserved pets. The fox lets out a pleased rumble, lying his head against Lan Wangji’s shoulder, letting the man carry him off to the in-patient room.
Lan Wangji attempts to set the little creature down into one of the cages lining the room, but as soon as the fox’s rump touches the soft towel-lined floor, his eyes snap open and he let’s out an ear piercing shriek. He thrashes in Lan Wangji’s hold, causing the man to scramble to prevent the fox from falling. Lan Wangji immediately pulls him back into his arms and rushes over to the examination table. Is it possible he somehow pulled on the fox’s stitches while setting him down?
The poor little fox is quivering in Lan Wangji’s hold, plastering himself as close as possible to the human. When Lan Wangji sets him down onto the table, he tries to press himself flat against the man’s stomach, head burrowing under Lan Wangji’s forearm.
After some gentle, careful pets and quiet consolation, the fox calms down enough for Lan Wangji to remove the donut and examine the injuries. Lan Wangji finds the stitches perfectly intact, and no other external causes for the scream. As he attempts to bring the fox back into the in-patient room, the poor little thing whines and digs his claws into Lan Wangji’s soft blue scrubs, pressing his face into his collarbone. Well, as much as the donut collar will allow him to.
At that moment, it clicks for Lan Wangji. The fox must be afraid of cages, possibly from a traumatizing experience in the past. His heart aches for the little creature, holding the fox closer and placing a comforting hand on his shivering back.
“It’s okay. It will be alright.” Lan Wangji murmurs to the bundle in his arms, rubbing a soothing hand down his back.
Lan Wangji would be more than happy to provide the fox as much comfort as he needs for the rest of the night, but he does need to check up on his other patients which unfortunately requires both hands. While he rocks back and forth in an attempt to soothe the little fox, he gets an idea.
When the fox’s shivers subside, Lan Wangji carefully sets him on the floor. The fox looks a bit uncertain, if not a bit petulant at being put down, but stands patiently as Lan Wangji walks to the opposite end of the hallway and kneels on the tiled floor.
With a calm, clear voice, he pats his thigh and says, “Come.”
The fox tilts his head and for a brief moment Lan Wangji panics, thinking that perhaps his assumption that the fox is a trained pet is wrong. However, after that second, the fox readily trots over to the waiting man and tries to climb into Lan Wangji’s lap to lick at his chin.
“Good boy.” He murmurs, reaching out to stroke the fox right between his ears. The fox’s tail begins to wag, and he readily chases Lan Wangji’s hand with his head for more pets. The man can’t help but let out a huff of a laugh and indulge the fox until he starts to circle to find a decent spot to lie down in his lap.
“Not now.” Lan Wangji says, carefully setting him back down on the floor. The fox lets out a disgruntled huff.
“I have work to do. Come.”
The fox whines, but obediently follows Lan Wangji to check in on his other patients. The fox is able to easily keep up with the vet despite his injury, even going so far as to get underfoot at times.
Lan Wangji is wary of allowing the little injured fox to be in the same room as his other patients while he does his check ups and administers medications. He has no dogs or cats currently in his office, as most of his clients are reptiles, birds, or rabbits. Unfortunately, those animals are notorious for being preyed upon by foxes.
The vet firmly does not allow the fox into the small mammal room, instead telling him to stay, before closing the door in the sulking fox’s face. The little creature whines pitifully, but otherwise does not put up any further protest. He simply sits and watches Lan Wangji work through the large, floor-to-ceiling glass window.
Lan Wangji examines a rather old, grumpy lop-eared rabbit who is prone to thumping her feet and biting his fingers, as well as a rather hefty rat who recently went into surgery for a tumor removal.
When he finishes and opens the door to the room, the little fox does not try to bulldoze past him to terrorize the small animals left in Lan Wangji’s care. Instead, he sniffs curiously at the waft of air that breezes past him as the door opens, but stays firmly sitting until the man closes the door once again.
Lan Wangji’s next patient is a young pot-bellied pig who came in to remove a few rotten teeth. Due to the size of the fast-growing pig he is not worried for her safety nearly as much as the small mammals. She is actually twice the size of the fox, so it is unlikely that he would try anything. He allows the little fox entry, and is surprised when he does not immediately barrel in. Instead, he stands at the door warily, sniffing around before giving the cages the stink eye. It makes sense, since this is the room where Lan Wangji tried to put him into a cage.
The fox stays cautious until Lan Wangji opens the hatch to Charlotte's enclosure. His tension eases and he walks over to investigate.
Charlotte squeals in indignation as Lan Wangji lifts the poor lady and carries her to the examination table. This causes the little fox to startle and jump at the sudden noise. Strangely enough, the fox starts to cackle, wagging his tail as if a very funny prank was just pulled on him. Lan Wangji can’t help but huff out a laugh at his odd reaction. What a strange little creature he’s found himself the temporary caretaker of.
During Charlotte’s check up, the fox tries to put his paws on the side of the exam table to crane his head over to get a closer look at her. This prompts the sassy sow to squeal out a warning to the little fox, having no patience for curious little creatures trying to invade her personal space.
The fox startles and immediately backs down, chittering with what seems to be amusement. He goes to do it again, but stops when his eyes meet Lan Wangji’s scolding gaze. His paws click back down onto the tiled floor and he gives the vet a perfectly practiced innocent look, his eyes round and wide as if he has no clue why he would be receiving such a look. Lan Wangji sighs through his nose and praises him briefly for the corrected behavior, causing the little fox’s tail to thump against the tile.
After Lan Wangji finishes up his rounds, he once again attempts to put the fox into one of the in-patient cages. He feels guilty doing so, but it is necessary to have him contained in some capacity, lest the little troublemaker gets into any mischief.
The fox immediately starts to scream and thrash when placed in the cage, scrambling to try to get past the man to jump out. Lan Wangji tries his best to push the fox back and close the door as efficiently as possible, his heart heavy with guilt as he does so. He tries to speak as calmly and as reassuringly as possible to the fox, but it’s as if the little creature can’t hear him.
There’s a panicked, wild look in his eye that was entirely missing during any of their interactions before. The fox screams and shrieks and wails, not stopping his cries even as he tries to gnash his teeth on the bars, paws scraping against the door in an attempt to escape.
Lan Wangji’s heart is in his throat when he sees the fox’s desperate attempts to get out. There’s no way to calm him without sedatives, and it’s clear if he allows this to continue the fox will only injure himself. He quickly opens the door, and the fox immediately dives out of the cage into Lan Wangji’s awaiting arms. The fox howls, his entire body shaking in Lan Wangji’s hold. He digs his claws into Lan Wangji’s scrubs, causing the man to wince as they pierce the skin underneath.
Lan Wangji quickly turns and walks away from the room, holding the crying fox close as he presses his lips to his fur, murmuring comforting words to him. Guilt overwhelms him. This was his fault. He knew that the fox was scared of cages, but tried to put him in one anyway. Not only did Lan Wangji scare the daylights out of the poor thing, but he also put him at risk of injury.
Lan Wangji stood in the hallway with the shaking animal in his arms, rocking back and forth slowly as if soothing a babe. Remorse and guilty nearly overwhelmed him. He took deep, slow breaths, focusing on the thundering pulse of the fox’s heart against his own.
Everything was okay. He made a mistake, but it’s one that could be corrected. One that was already corrected.
After a minute of deep breaths and gentle soothing pets, he feels the fox’s heart slow down, and his body, once stiff with fear, slowly relaxes in Lan Wangji’s steady, supportive hold.
“I am sorry. I shouldn’t have done that to you.” He says to the fox, pressing another gentle kiss to the fox’s head.
He feels the huff of air the fox lets out against the underside of his jaw. The little creature nips at his ear, as if scolding him, but resettles to rest against Lan Wangji’s shoulder. Or, well, as much as the donut collar will allow him to. Lan Wangji readily conceded to the plush donut pressing into the side of his face, willing to accept the mild discomfort to assuage the guilt still gnawing at him.
“Hey, is everything okay over there?” Mo Xuanyu asks, leaning dangerously in the office chair to look down the hallway at the pair. His face is full of worry. It’s more than likely he heard the fox’s screaming earlier. In fact, Lan Wangji would have been concerned if he didn’t hear all that noise.
“Yes. There is an issue, however.” Lan Wangji replies, walking towards his coworker. “The fox is afraid of cages, to the point where he puts himself and possibly others around him at risk.”
Mo Xuanyu sucks his teeth, “Wow, that sucks. Poor little guy. What should we do about it?”
Lan Wangji pauses, stroking the back of the fox’s fur. He could hand the fox over to the other vet and have him sit with him overnight. He’s worried, though, about putting an extra burden on the younger man’s shoulders. It’s true that the fox is relatively compliant and easy to direct when the threat of a cage isn’t looming over him, but Lan Wangji knows it can be tricky to monitor an unknown, free roaming animal while also caring for a dozen or so more. In this case, Lan Wangji would like to avoid sedating the fox unless absolutely necessary. This leaves only one other option.
“I will take him home.”
Mo Xuanyu raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t argue against his choice. His decision definitely goes against the dutiful man’s usual protocol. However, Lan Wangji is willing to bend some of his own guidelines for the sake of an animal’s comfort and safety. That comes above all else in Lan Wangji’s principles.
Lan Wangji carefully packs the fox up into a cardboard box bundled in a blanket after the resounding failure of trying to coax him anywhere near a pet carrier. The poor thing was likely still shaken from the very eventful day, and refuses to approach anything that looks remotely close to a cage. As Lan Wangji heads out to the front of the building with his new charge carried in his arms, he gives Mo Xuanyu his usual polite goodbye.
“Goodbye Lan-zǒng. Goodbye, A-Ying!” Mo Xuanyu calls to them, causing Lan Wangji to stop and turn to stare at him with a quirked eyebrow.
Mo Xuanyu grins and holds up his phone for Lan Wangji to look at. “It seems the younger Nie got to social media before I could. He posted a picture of our little guy and tagged our account in it.”
Lan Wangji squints at the screen, not being able to grab his reading glasses from his pocket with his arms full of fox. Sure enough, Nie Huaisang posted a series of photos almost immediately upon taking them during their office visit. He tells his followers in the description about how his da-ge valliantly saved A-Ying from a mean, nasty dog and rushed him to Cloud Recesses Veterinary Hospital, where he’s currently being cared for. He adds in a pinned comment that if anyone knows the owner or someone who recognizes the fox, to contact the clinic.
The photos are quite cute, if a little silly. It seems that Nie Huaisang took some non graphic photos of Lan Wangji caring for the fox as well. While Lan Wangji somewhat dislikes that he did not consent to having his photo taken and posted on social media, he has to admit that it is doing a good job of getting the word out that the clinic is searching for the fox’s owner. The pictures already have thousands of likes and reposts. It also seems as though the name “A-Ying” is sticking.
He looks down at A-Ying, who is looking at the screen with interest. The fox turns and their eyes meet. After a moment, A-Ying quirks his head to the side and sticks his tongue out. It is rather cute. Lan Wangji looks away and gives a nod to Mo Xuanyu before heading out for the night.
* * *
The first night with the little fox— A-Ying, in his house is quite surreal for Lan Wangji. Even though he is a veterinarian, he has never actually owned a pet on his own before. He had a pair of rabbits when he was quite young, but was only allowed to do the age appropriate tasks for their care: feeding them their meals and treats, making sure they got plenty of play time, etc. Most of the actual work was instead done by his uncle.
Lan Wangji has lived a mostly solitary life; even more so when he moved out of his uncle’s house into his own apartment. It was strange to have another living creature in his home during a time he normally spent alone, occupying both his physical and mental space outside of work hours.
As soon as Lan Wangji sets the box containing A-Ying down, the fox jumps out and starts exploring the apartment. He sniffs all the furniture and nudges at a candle on the coffee table with his nose. A-Ying thankfully avoids dangerous areas like the wall sockets, and delicate items like picture frames.
Lan Wangji watches as the fox quickly grows bored of the front room and starts trotting in and out of the doorways to the other areas of his apartment. A-Ying most likely won’t get into any trouble (hopefully), but Lan Wangji is still unsettled by the disruption in his daily life. He tries to go into his usual meditative routine as he makes his dinner, but is soon brought out of it when he feels the eyes of an audience watching him cook.
Lan Wangji glances down to see the fox only a few feet from the soft foam mat he stands on as he makes his meal, likely having given up his exploration and been drawn to the smells coming from the kitchen.
When they make eye contact, A-Ying turns his little nose up towards the crackling tofu stir fry in an almost comically exaggerated series of sniffs. He then turns his round, beseeching eyes back to Lan Wangji. Taking a seat on the floor and tail swishing against the tile, he lifts a single paw towards him. The little fox waves it in the air, as if pleading for a bite.
Lan Wangji raises an eyebrow. It seems that his previous owner was quite bad at curbing his attempts at begging for scraps, or maybe it is a trick he learned on the streets. Either way, Lan Wangji is unmoved.
Seeing that his first attempt to appeal to Lan Wangji did not work, A-Ying seems to turn up the dial on the dramatics. He becomes more pathetic and heart wrenching. The poor creature slumps onto the kitchen tile, letting out small, woeful little whines, being sure to maintain eye contact with Lan Wangji. The whines are different from the ones A-Ying made in the clinic when he was afraid or in pain. These whines are more exaggerated, as if the little fox is an actor projecting to an audience. His paw raises once again above his body, and he gives another feeble wave. Lan Wangji can’t help but huff out a laugh at A-Ying’s silly behavior. He abandons his wooden spatula and crouches down, giving the very pitiful fox a few gentle pets.
“You must be very hungry after such a long day.” He says indulgently. A-Ying’s flat ears perk up and he turns his head to watch the man more closely, searching for any signs of tasty morsels coming his way.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be feeding you soon.” Lan Wangji stands up and goes back to cooking.
There is a beat of silence.
Lan Wangji can almost feel the fox’s stare digging into his back. He chances a glance over his shoulder to see A-Ying looking at him as if in disbelief.
When their eyes lock, the fox slowly opens his maw to its full capacity to let out an indignant, ear piercing scream. He rolls onto his back and writhes in the throes of his tantrum. Lan Wangji winces and quickly turns away.
A-Ying was loud, and clearly bratty, though Lan Wangji was neither mad nor surprised. Lan Wangji was already aware how loud foxes tended to be, so this screaming and yowling wasn’t entirely unexpected. There also was a quality to the fox’s antics that the man somehow found endearing. Lan Wangji had seen plenty of misbehaved animals as a vet, and while A-Ying is being cheeky and demanding, he is doing so mostly unobtrusively. A-Ying doesn’t crowd into Lan Wangji’s space and bite at his ankles or try to scrabble his way up to the counter to shove his face into the ingredients. The fox’s fit is tolerable and mostly self contained, so Lan Wangji isn't too bothered by his outburst. It’s best to not indulge any kind of attention, good or otherwise, in bad behavior. Instead, it’s recommended that you redirect unwanted behavior towards another behavior that is incompatible with the unwanted one; to give your pet something else to do that conflicts with continuing their bad behavior.
Lan Wangji grabs a stuffed toy off the counter, a little black bird he had at the office, and shoves it in A-Ying’s mouth.
A-Ying, for his part, looks very affronted. He stops his screaming to stare at Lan Wangji for a long moment. Then, he begins to scream again, the toy muffling the majority of it. He shakes his head from side to side in fury before takes the poor toy between his two front paws and gnaws on its head.
A-Ying’s attention now focuses on showing the black bird what for, entirely forgetting about his attempt to scream his complaints to the world. Lan Wangji smiles to himself and goes back to his cooking with the sounds of the fox enthusiastically attacking his new toy in the background.
Once he was done with his dinner, Lan Wangji turned his attention to feeding the now tuckered out little fox. He was smart enough to grab a few cans of quality dog food at the clinic before he returned home with his charge. Lan Wangji is a bit skeptical about most canned and packaged pet food brands, always recommending to his clients to make their pet’s food if they have the means. However, not everyone has that luxury, so he is sure to recommend and stock the best quality pet food he can find. Ideally it would probably be better to feed A-Ying raw meat but since he seems to have recently lived on the streets, he was most likely eating trash and scraps that people throw his way. His stomach would probably not be able to handle a raw diet just yet, so canned dog food would have to do for tonight.
Lan Wangji carefully portions and scoops out some of the food into a bowl and places another dish with water onto the floor next to it. A-Ying perks up at the sound of the bowls clinking onto the floor, and excitedly scrambles up from the living room rug to rush over to the offering.
Before he digs in, he stops to sniff the contents of the bowl. He looks up at the opened can of dog food on the counter and then the spoon in Lan Wangji’s hand, his eyes squinting almost accusingly. The fox lets out a series of strange, almost disgruntled grumblings before he starts to voraciously eat the food provided.
There is a pang of guilt in Lan Wangji’s chest when he sees how hungry A-Ying actually is. Who knows when the fox last had a nutritious meal? Judging by his thin frame, it’s most likely been quite some time.
When A-Ying has licked the entire bowl clean, he looks back up at Lan Wangji and sits in place, raising his paw in the air beseechingly once again. He lets out an actual whine, not a staged exaggeration, and looks at him with round, pleading eyes.
Lan Wangji’s grip tightens on the spoon in his hand. He frequently tells his clients with overweight animals to not give into pleading when it comes to food. Eating too much is detrimental to an animal’s health. It’s hard when it is their cute, loveable babies asking for it, when they’re pulling out all the tricks in the book. But owners simply should not bend on this.
A-Ying lets out a cry that pierces right through Lan Wangji’s heart. He closes his eyes. He will not give in. He already portioned out a generous amount for a pet who needs some weight gain.
He opens his eyes again and makes the unfortunate decision to look at the poor fox. As soon as their eyes meet, A-Ying whines again and lies down on his belly, his ears folded back. His tail thumps a few times before he rests his head on the floor dejectedly, accepting his fate.
Lan Wangji stares.
If a bit more food ends up in the fox’s bowl, it is only seen by Lan Wangji and A-Ying, and neither one is inclined to tell any of his clients.