Archive of Our Own

They say that life is like a box full of chocolates - you’ll never know what you’ll get. Each and every piece is filled to the brim with flavours and tastes you’re familiar with, that you find you like a little less, or that you have yet to discover.

In Lan Wangji’s case, the aforementioned box of chocolates was filled to the brim with twists and turns that he would never have expected, but welcomed in his life nonetheless: a loving husband who manages to brighten his days, no matter how drab they sometimes seem to be. Two wonderful sons who have been his pride and joy while growing up, and still continue to do so, now that they are well on their way to making their own lives.  A warm house to call home, a job that fulfills him and makes him happy, and a hobby that has grown into something that is sometimes very stressful, but gives him and his family the financial freedom to live comfortably.

He has not expected greying hair as one of the ingredients in his chocolate box. 

Lan Wangji stands in front of the mirror, brushes out his long hair after blow-drying it, and frowns. He’s in his mid-fourties, and he’s going grey at the temples. He isn’t exactly vain but has always taken care of his appearance, so the faint strands of silver that have started to show amongst his jet-black hair irk him a bit.

Wei Wuxian appears next to him in the bathroom, sleep-rumpled and yawning. His hair still has all of its colour, and while it’s still an unruly mess on most days, Lan Wangji thinks it has relaxed a bit over the years.

This might also have to do with the fact that Wei Wuxian likes to steal his camellia hair oil.

“Good morning, my love,” Lan Wangji says, presses a kiss to Wei Wuxian’s temple, and scoots over to make some space at the sink for his husband.

“Mornin’,” Wei Wuxian mumbles and rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, stretches, and brushes his teeth before undressing and stepping into the still-warm shower. It doesn’t take long for him to fully wake up under the spray of the water, and soon he hums a pleasant tune as he washes up.

Lan Wangji puts his brush away, splits his hair into three equal parts, and fastens them into a long French braid.

“Wei Ying,” he says, loud enough so that Wei Wuxian will hear him over the spray of the shower.

“What is it, gorgeous?” comes the teasing reply.

Lan Wangji huffs fondly, but then asks: “Do you…what would you say if I was to dye my hair? Or cut it?”

The water stops abruptly. The shower door opens just enough for Wei Wuxian’s sudsy head to peak out.

“You wanna do what with your hair?” he asks.

“Dye it,” Lan Wangji repeats, “or cut it short so that the grey isn’t as visible.”

“...give me ten minutes,” Wei Wuxian says before disappearing back into the shower.

While his husband finishes showering, Lan Wangji makes his way into the kitchen and gets breakfast started. He also checks on the rabbits, who are in their outside enclosure, enjoying the first warm sun rays of spring. He changes their water, fills up their bowls with pellets and hay, and sets a reminder on his phone to change the litter and bedding in the hutch the following day.

Wei Wuxian appears not long after, sneaking up next to Lan Wangji and putting his arms around his waist.

“Now now, what was that talk about dyeing your hair?” he says while placing a gentle kiss on Lan Wangji’s cheek. “You’ve had the silver strands for a while now, I thought you were getting used to them?”

Lan Wangji sighs. “It just occurred to me this morning that I…well. I am starting to look like my uncle.”

Wei Wuxian laughs. “Not unless you’re growing a thin mustache and a goatee!”

Lan Wangji gives him a look. “No, thank you.”

Wei Wuxian hums, then places his fingers on Lan Wangji’s chin to turn his face until their eyes meet.

“I will obviously not tell you what you should and shouldn’t do with your own hair, that's for you to decide,” he tells him. “If you think you’ll feel better with short or dyed hair, then go for it. I, for one, think that you are still the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on. I would even claim that you grow more handsome with each passing year. The prettiest of silver foxes!”

Lan Wangji can feel his ears growing hot. He should be used to Wei Wuxian’s compliments and loving teases, and yet they sometimes still make him blush.

“Wei Ying,” he says, taking Wei Wuxian’s hand and placing a kiss on his fingers. “If anyone here is beautiful, it has to be you.

“Lan Zhaaaaaaaaaan!”

Lan Wangji smiles. It’s good to know that he’s still able to make his husband blush as well.

“You know that I don’t lie.”

“Still! I will have to reschedule my cardiology check-up just because you’re saying stuff that my heart can’t take!”

“Don’t joke about this,” Lan Wangji tells him, his tone earnest. “Please.”

Wei Wuxian sighs. “I’m sorry Lan Zhan, that was…yeah, I shouldn’t have. But you know what the doctor said: if I take my meds on the regular and consume a bit less black tea and a bit less coffee, I should be fine!”

“Still,” Lan Wangji says and pulls his husband into a tight embrace.

It’s been a few years since Wei Wuxian had his last fainting spells, but when they first occurred, it frightened Lan Wangji like nothing else. It had all started with Wei Wuxian getting dizzy and short of breath, and culminated in him losing consciousness on multiple occasions. A few medical exams later, they both learned that Wei Wuxian’s heart was weaker than it should be for a man of his age and constitution. Nothing to be too worried about if monitored, but Lan Wangji, being who he is, had worried, to the point where he had started to suffocate Wei Wuxian. 

There had been one major fight, one of the few serious ones they ever had, followed by a whole day of not talking to each other, before Wei Wuxian had appeared at Lan Wangji’s side with two mugs full of something warm and fragrant, and they had talked.

Talking about his insecurities has never been easy for Lan Wangji, and it had not been easy that time around either, but with Wei Wuxian, it didn’t seem too difficult. They figured it out and found ways to reassure each other, all while making sure that they divided up tasks equally so that both still worked, but none of them overexerted themselves.

All has been well since then. Lan Wangji still doesn’t like it when Wei Wuxian jokes about his heart condition.

“I won’t be going anywhere, sweetheart,” Wei Wuxian tells him. “I really am sorry.”

Lan Wangji kisses the top of his head. “I know. It just took me off-guard.”

“It’s okay,” Wei Wuxian says. “How about we have breakfast, and then we work for a bit? I think I might be able to finish my last piece for this project.”

“The information pamphlets for the community center?” Lan Wangji inquires. “Will you show me later?”

Technically, Wei Wuxian doesn’t have to take graphic design jobs anymore to make a living, but he still likes it, and the extra income doesn’t hurt. 

He nods enthusiastically. “But first? Food. I'm starving!"

So they eat and do the dishes before Wei Wuxian settles at his desk in the little alcove next to the living room window to work on his flyers, and Lan Wangjii takes up residence on the couch with his tablet.

He opens a document, types a sentence, then deletes it. He tries to formulate an outline, makes a list of possible plot points he could write about, makes some bullet points, then scraps half of it again. This goes on for a few hours.

It’s frustrating, to say the least. Lan Wangji has never been scared of the blank page and isn’t so now either, but usually, whenever he opens a new document, he has at least an idea for a story in mind or even just a scene. Like a still frame, which he then paints in his mind and transfers onto the page before spinning a narrative around it.

This time though, nothing seems to come to him. Lan Wangji sighs, closes his document, and places his tablet on the coffee table before running a hand across his face.

Wei Wuxian has stopped working for the morning and disappears into the kitchen to fix them both some more tea. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks while he sits down on the couch next to his husband and hands him a mug. “Is your newest project giving you grief?”

Lan Wangji doesn’t respond immediately. He leans back until he’s more comfortable before inhaling the steam rising from his mug. He takes a sip, careful not to burn his tongue, and takes his time savouring the flavours of the beverage,

The tea is delicious, he thinks. It makes him smile. Wei Wuxian’s tea has never been bad, but it’s come a long way since he did get to taste it for the first time on a sunny afternoon in Wei Wuxian’s kitchen, a basket full of baby rabbits at his feet.

Their kitchen, he corrects himself and smiles into his mug.

Wei Wuxian waits for him to reply, a testament to how used they have gotten to each other. Lan Wangji knows that Wei Wuxian isn’t exactly the most patient man in the world, and he wasn’t always patient with Lan Wangji either, but with time and love - and patience, ironically - they had learned to adapt to each others’ needs. 

“If it only was a project,” Lan Wangji says, picks up the tablet, unlocks it, and re-opens his document to show it to Wei Wuxian.

A document that only says: Insert Title Here , in large font, and below, in smaller font, Perhaps this will turn into something substantial if I stare at it for long enough .

Wei Wuxian blinks, then erupts into laughter.

“Maybe you should try writing comedies,” he suggests after catching his breath, “I’m sure you’d be good at it!”

Lan Wangji pinches the bridge of his nose. “Wei Ying, please…”

“Alright, I’m sorry! I’m not laughing at you, I promise. That was just too funny.”

“I would prefer if my brain would finally come up with an idea I could write about,” Lan Wangji laments. “It’s as if all of my inspiration has decided that it’s time for a break.”

Wei Wuxian taps his nose in thought. “Maybe it is time for a break, though. You’ve been cranking out these bestsellers like no one’s business.”

Lan Wangji gives him a look. “I am not Stephen King,” he retorts.

“Okay, maybe not at that speed, that man’s a machine,” Wei Wuxian admits, “but still. You’ve been working so hard on your books. You’ve been present for every movie adaptation, did press and promo tours, went to premieres, and you’ve still been holding lectures in between. Maybe your brain is trying to tell you something.”

“Maybe I am getting old and I should consider an early retirement.”

“Maybe, yes,” Wei Wuxian muses.

“...I beg your pardon?”

Wei Wuxian chuckles at Lan Wangji’s surely horrified face. 

“That’s not how I mean it, Lan Zhan. It’s just - you never had writer’s block before. I hear it’s a normal thing to occur, from time to time, but…look. Maybe you’ve just been working too hard, and you need to take a break from writing. Only hold classes for a while. Or take a sabbatical and stay home with me. We could ask Mianmian and her kids if they wanna take care of the farm, and we could travel a bit. See family. Relax. Just - recharge your batteries, you know?”

Lan Wangji considers this while sipping his tea. It’s true that he has been writing almost constantly, the inspiration flowing like an overfull stream, until it suddenly ran dry. What Wei Wuxian says does make sense; he might simply be overworked and in need of a bit of distance from his books, and whatever became of them.

Twelve bestsellers, in the span of nineteen years. Four successful movie adaptations. It’s still wild to Lan Wangji that what used to be a hobby has grown wings and taken off, and while he still isn’t fond of the media circus, he wouldn’t change it for anything either.

“I’ll think about it,” he tells Wei Wuxian before he puts his tablet away again. “I think I’ve ruminated long enough over this today; I’ll burn holes into the screen of my tablet if I keep staring at it for any longer.”

“Thank goodness you’re writing published novels instead of fan fiction, though.”

Lan Wangji raises an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

Wei Wuxian grins at him. “Because if you were, this would not be a writer’s block, but a shipping delay .”

Lan Wangji doesn’t roll his eyes, though he really wants to. Instead, he rises from the couch and reaches for his empty mug.

“Who says that I don’t write fan fiction, Wei Ying?” he nonchalantly comments while making his way to the kitchen.

Wei Wuxian stares at him, mouth hanging open before he jumps up to follow his husband out of the room.

“Lan Zhan! You are joking, right? Oh my god, really ? Can I read it? Wait… have I read it?! ”

“Maybe you did,” Lan Wangji says, “maybe you didn’t.”

“Lan Zhan! Not fair!!”

After cleaning his mug, Lan Wangji turns to face his husband and is met with the most adorable pout he could ever imagine. It reminds him of A-Yuan, when he was still a small child, a bit shy when he first joined their family, but very quick to learn that the combination of big eyes and a pout was a one-hit kill with both of his parents.

A wave of nostalgia washes over him, then. They do, from time to time. On most days, he can tell when they’re about to hit - for instance, when the anniversaries of his children joining his family approach, and neither are there to celebrate them or when there’s a holiday coming up that they used to spend together when the boys were still small but cannot now for whatever reason.

Wei Wuxian looks at him, the pout disappearing from his face. He notices, of course he does. No one can read Lan Wangji as well as Wei Wuxian does. He reaches out to take Lan Wangji’s hand, tracing soft circles onto his knuckles with his thumb.

“Shall we message A-Yuan and A-Yu?” he asks gently. “See if one of them has time for a video call tonight? Maybe even both, if we get lucky. I know time zones can be tricky, but knowing A-Yu’s sleep schedule, we might be able to catch him still.”

Lan Wangji nods. “He has taken after you, in that regard. I…miss them.”

“I miss them too,” Wei Wuxian admits. “I mean, there was always chaos around here when A-Yuan was still small and after A-Yu got used to living with us, and I do enjoy the quieter moments, but…I miss it. I miss the laughter and the babbling and the fun moments.”

“So do I,” Lan Wangji replies and huffs a laugh. “My twenty-five-year-old self would break out in hives if he’d heard what I just said.”

Wei Wuxian chuckles. “I only ever knew you as a patient and loving man whenever you had kids around, but your brother told me that you used to be quite different as a teen, and even later on.”

This time, Lan Wangji does roll his eyes. “I was under the impression that my uncle taught both of us that gossip is forbidden.”

Wei Wuxian laughs out loud. “He wasn’t gossiping, exactly. It came up in a conversation, once, that’s all. Don’t be mad at him.”

“I’m not,” Lan Wangji says. “He was right. I used to be…cold and distant. I had grown very quiet and hard to get on with after my mother passed, and…you know how children can be. In me, they had found someone they could tease and make fun of. It got to me and influenced how I behaved as a teen. I used to be so standoffish because I thought people could not hurt and abandon me if I was the one who pushed them away first.”

“Oh, Lan Zhan…” Wei Wuxian goes, rising to his tiptoes to place a kiss on Lan Wangji’s forehead. “I am so sorry. Children can be very cruel. What changed?”

“I left home,” Lan Wangji says, “went to university. Met people who were kind to me, who talked to me openly about how they saw me behave. In the end, I went to see a therapist, and it was helpful. It wasn’t a magical cure-it-all, but I learned things about myself, about why I perceive the world the way that I do, and it helped.”

Wei Wuxian laces their fingers together, “You never told me about this. I mean, you obviously didn’t have to, but…is there a reason why?”

“I am not sure,” Lan Wangji admits. “It didn’t really come up in conversation that much; you were more interested in stories about what mischief my brother and I got ourselves into when we were children, and he’s a much better storyteller than I am. But also…it’s sometimes still difficult to talk about it. I feel like it shouldn’t be, especially not with you, my love. I am sorry.”

“Sweetheart, don’t apologise,” Wei Wuxian replies. “Not for this. If I am honest…I mean you know I was in the system too for a while before the Jiangs took me in, right? I do have my own issues, which I probably always had, but things back then might have made them worse. I don’t really talk about that time either, but…yeah. I’ve had my fair share of therapy visits in my time.”

Lan Wangji hums. “I figured as much.”

“...you did?”

“Wei Ying. Do you really think I would have never noticed the medication you have been taking every day, since the very beginning?”

Wei Wuxian shuts his mouth. “Oh. Right. True! I’ve been taking that stuff for so long that I’m not even thinking about it anymore, even though I do have to remind myself to do it. Which…doesn’t really make sense? But it makes sense that you would notice, Lan Zhan, I feel so stupid for never talking about it with you, I hmpfh -”

Lan Wangji shuts Wei Wuxian up with a kiss. If he has learned anything about the man since he got to know him, it’s that this is the most effective way to get him to stop talking.

It’s a method that Lan Wangji thoroughly approves of.

“Slow down, my love,” he says, “it’s fine. I know we promised there would be no secrets between us. That doesn’t mean we’re not allowed to keep things to ourselves if we are not ready to talk about them.”

Wei Wuxian nods. “I know, I know, it’s just - brain weasels, you know?”

“I know,” Lan Wangji replies. “Now go fetch your phone. Didn’t you want to message our sons?”

Wei Wuxian beams at him, then bounds away to do as he was told. Lan Wangji watches as Wei Wuxian rummages around the living room in an effort to locate his phone, before remembering that it’s in the back pocket of his jeans. He observes as Wei Wuxian walks up to the window, fingers dancing over his phone screen as he types, the tip of his tongue peeking out between his lips in concentration.

Wei Wuxian is wearing a black and white striped t-shirt with his jeans, paired with a blue cardigan that is a bit too big on him, and that Lan Wangji has been searching for weeks. His hair is in a messy bun, held back with a blood-red scrunchie.

“All done! Now we wait,” Wei Wuxian says and turns to face Lan Wangji, a wide smile on his face, his eyes shaped like crescent moons.

It’s so reminiscent of the very first time that Lan Wangji set foot into the house that has since become his home, the first time he has seen the man who would become his husband up close, that he feels his heart skip a beat. He’s positive it’s still the same scrunchie, and possibly even the same t-shirt as the ones Wei Wuxian was wearing that day.

Wei Wuxian’s smile fades as he blinks in confusion. “Are you alright?” he asks.

“I am,” Lan Wangji nods. “Just reminiscing, that’s all.”

“Ayah, stop thinking so much,” Wei Wuxian says, taking a step in Lan Wangji’s direction. He takes hold of Lan Wangji’s braid and lets it glide through his hand. “You’ll grey out even faster if you think too much.”

“Weren’t you the one who said it looked good on me just a few hours ago?” Lan Wangji teases. “I believe you said I was turning into a silver fox.”

“You are!” Wei Wuxian exclaims. “Which is utterly unfair, Lan Zhan, you’re already gorgeous, and the few silver hairs I can see make you even more attractive. How am I supposed to get anything done when your mere presence keeps distracting me so much?”

Lan Wangji huffs a laugh. “Well, in that case, I can leave.”

“What? No!”

“Someone has to prune the roses, and you hate it,” Lan Wangji points out.

“Fine,” Wei Wuxian gives in, “but don’t be too late! I’ll get started on lunch.”

Lan Wangji nods before putting on his boots and his gardening jacket. He retrieves a bucket, a pair of pruning shears, and gardening gloves from the shed before walking over to the row of rose bushes that flank their house.

It had been Wei Wuxian’s idea to plant a rose bush for each rabbit that they had lost over the years, the first two belonging to Bichen and Suibian. Lan Wangji had always known that the time he had with his animal companions was limited, and yet their passing had hit him harder than he had been willing to admit. They had been lucky that none of their rabbits had succumbed to illness, all of them living their life to the fullest. It was only logical that their final resting place should be where they were the happiest. 

Each rabbit was cremated, the ashes scattered amongst the soil before a rose bush had been planted on the very spot. Lan Wangji thinks that Wei Wuxian suggested the rose bush idea primarily for them to have a place they could grieve at, but one that was full of colour and beauty too, to reflect the joy the bunnies had brought to their lives.

To ensure that they bloom to their fullest, the bushes must be pruned, and while Wei Wuxian has offered to do it himself, he’s returned every single time with his hands scratched bloody from the thorns, even though he’s been wearing gloves. Since then, pruning has officially become Lan Wangji’s job, and it’s one he really enjoys since it ensures the health and well-being of their little rose garden.

He’s done with half of the bushes when the mailman arrives on his bicycle, waving at Lan Wangji in greeting after he deposits a stack of letters in their letterbox. Lan Wangji finishes pruning the last of the bushes, composts the rose clippings, puts away his supplies, and collects the mail on his way back into the house.

Wei Wuxian, who is busy chopping ingredients for a salad, looks up at him. 

“Anything exciting?” he asks.

Lan Wangji shakes his head. Most of the letters are bills, some look like information leaflets, There is only one that manages to grab his attention.

It’s addressed to him directly, although it doesn’t say “Lan Wangji” on the envelope.

No, the handwritten words spell “Lan Zhan.”

Lan Wangji stares at it for the longest time before setting it aside. Wei Wuxian gives him a questioning look.

“Later,” Lan Wangji tells him before helping with lunch. 

They eat and wash up. Then Wei Wuxian’s phone dings. A-Yuan does have time for a video call later in the day, and both men are buzzing with excitement at the prospect of being able to talk to their son. Mo Xuanyu writes them a bit later, stating that he would have time the following day.

The rest of the day goes by in a blur, as it always does when the kids are either scheduled to call or to visit because it’s all their parents can think and talk about.  Even dinner is a quick affair, and soon they find themselves nestled on the couch in the living room, the tablet held up so that they both are in frame.

“How’s the master's degree going?” Wei Wuxian asks. “You don’t look too worn out!”

“That’s because I go to bed at a reasonable time, unlike someone else”, A-Yuan counters, a beatific smile on his face.

Wei Wuxian gasps. “Wen Yuan! How unfilial!”

“He’s not wrong, my love,” Lan Wangji says, and A-Yuan chuckles. 

Wei Wuxian huffs. “We should have never let him leave, Lan Zhan, what happened to our little Radish?”

“I grew into a certified Daikon,” A-Yuan says, and Wei Wuxian erupts into laughter.

“Studies are well,” he continues. “Qing-gugu says that I might even be able to do my paediatrics residency at her hospital, which would be fantastic.”

Lan Wangji hums. “It’s a good hospital. I am sure you could learn much there. I would still advise you to apply to residency programs in other hospitals as well, just to be safe.”

Wei Wuxian nods. “Nepotism can only get you so far,” he says, which startles a laugh out of A-Yuan, and prompts Lan Wangji to fondly shake his head.

“I would be closer to home too,” A-Yuan points out. “Even though I will probably look for my own place, I would still like to be able to visit you as often as possible.”

“You will always be welcome here,” Lan Wangji says. “This will always be your home. For both you, and A-Yu. He will call tomorrow, by the way.”

“Oh yeah, I talked to him the other day,” A-Yuan says, “He says he likes Europe. The States were exciting, but he prefers the food over there. He says he wants to travel a bit still, after all the stress of the Berlinale, but he’s planning on visiting before he’s going back to Cannes in summer.”

“I’m so proud of him,” Wei Wuxian says, emotion in his voice, “Do you remember when he used to paint stars and butterflies on your face? And now he works with big make-up companies and celebrities! He’s come such a long way. I’m really proud of him, of both of you!”

A-Yuan smiles, bashful. “Actually, I talked to him about the name thing, and I think I’ve made a decision.”

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian exchange a look.

“I would like to keep my family name,” he says. “I like that connection to my birth family, but…I also always kind of liked the fact that you and Baba have two names. So…I’ve been thinking. I think I’ve outgrown the A-Yuan stage, but I would like for you two to pick a new first name for me.”

“I…Radish, that’s - I mean, I do feel very honoured, but isn’t that something you should be choosing for yourself?” Wei Wuxian asks. “Your first name is highly personal, after all.”

A-Yuan smiles. “I know, but I trust you, and it would make me really happy if you were to do this for me. And if I don’t like what you’ll come up with, I can always say no and pick one myself.”

Lan Wangji can hear Wei Wuxian swallow next to him. He would be lying if he was to claim that the whole exchange, the idea that A-Yuan wants them to pick out his name, wasn’t making him emotional too. He reaches over and gives his husband’s hand a warm squeeze.

“Give us a bit of time,” Lan Wangji says, “this is something we would not like to rush.”

“Mn,” A-Yuan goes, “because if you don’t think it over, Baba will end up calling me Kevin Wen or something of that ilk.”

Wei Wuxian barks out another laugh, and A-Yuan chuckles before stifling a yawn. “It’s been a long day for me. Would it be alright for you if we wrap it up here and I go to bed? We can call again on the weekend when I’ll have a bit more time.”

“Go to sleep,” Lan Wangji tells him, “I doubt we will be up for long either. We miss you.”

“We really do,” Wei Wuxian agrees. “Just this morning we talked about how empty this house feels without any children in it.”

A-Yuan inclines his head. “Have you thought about fostering again? It’s not too late, and I wouldn’t mind a didi or a meimei.”

Wei Wuxian blinks at him. “We…have not. Lan Zhan, why haven’t we?”

“Maybe because we were too busy the last few years,” Lan Wangji replies. He can see the gears turning in Wei Wuxian’s head and knows that his husband will spend the whole night thinking about all of this if he doesn’t put a stop to it right now.

“We can talk about it in the morning,” he suggests and is relieved to see Wei Wuxian nod.

They bid their son good night and end the call. Lan Wangji switches off the tablet for the night while Wei Wuxian goes to fetch a last round of tea. He all of a sudden remembers the letter he had put aside before lunch. Curiosity peaked, he opens it, leans back against the cushions of the couch, and reads it.

The shock about the contents of the letter must be written all over his face, for Wei Wuxian almost drops the teapot upon returning to the living room and seeing Lan Wangji’s expression. He’s by Lan Wangji’s side in a few quick strides and sits down next to him, his eyes full of worry.

“Lan Zhan, what’s wrong?” he asks. “Bad news? Is everything alright with Shushu?”

Lan Wangji tries to say something, but his voice fails him. When he finally manages to speak, he sounds hoarse.

“This letter arrived this morning,” he says. “It spelled my birth name on it, the one my mother gave me. I didn’t recognise the handwriting on it, so I set it aside to read it later.”

Wei Wuxian is silent, giving Lan Wangji the time he needs to find his words.

“Wei Ying, this letter…it’s from my father.”

***

They don't talk about the letter. Lan Wangji doesn't know if he could, even if his life depended on it. They go to bed, and he falls asleep with Wei Wuxian's arms around his waist, his husband's form pressed against his back.

The letter taunts him at breakfast and glares at him at lunch, yet Lan Wangji ignores it. 

Mo Xuanyu video calls in the late afternoon, While he is cheerful and excitedly talks about all his adventures, Lan Wangji clocks the very moment his son realises that something's wrong. Of course, A-Yu would notice, he's always been perceptive like that, but Wei Wuxian gives him a hand gesture that means "Not now. Not here," and Lan Wangji is grateful for it, grateful for the tiny nod Mo Xuanyu gives in reply. 

After the call, they put away the tablet and just sit there, staring at each other.

"I…don't know what to do," Lan Wangji confesses. "I don't know how to react. My father - says that he's sorry. That during his time away from us, he did a lot of thinking, and now that he's growing old and he feels like time is running out for him, he would like to get to know us. I have no idea what to make of this. I'm not even angry; I've seen the man maybe twice in my life. How could I be angry at someone who's a stranger to me?"

Wei Wuxian hums in thought, then takes Lan Wangji's hand.

"Do you think he sent the same letter to your brother?" he asks. "Like, you're the famous one, but between the two of you, you're also the one who's more private. It's way easier to look up the address of Xichen's law firm."

Lan Wangji shakes his head. "I…don't think so. Brother would have told me."

"Unless he's just as stunned as you are now."

Wei Wuxian shifts in his seat. "At the end of the day, it's you alone who is going to decide what to will do, but right now? I don't trust that letter. Even if your father had found out where you lecture or had gone through your publisher, I doubt they would have given out your address so easily. If he had asked your uncle, I'm sure Shushu would have notified you that he was to contact you. Your brother's work address is literally in the phone book; his law firm comes up first thing when you type his name into a search engine. So if your father's only goal was to get in touch with his sons again, why go the difficult route?"

Lan Wangji thinks about all of this. "Do you believe he saw my success and now wants a part of the cake?"

Wei Wuxian shrugs. "It's at least something we should take into consideration."

"But why wait that long, then?"

"Maybe to see whether you'd be successful long-term," Wei Wuxian suggests. "Look, maybe I'm right. Maybe I'm wrong! There's no way of telling at this point. I think…that maybe we should sleep on it, and tomorrow morning, you'll call your brother. See what he says, and go from there. What do you say?"

Lan Wangji takes Wei Wuxian's hand and kisses the back of it. 

"I say we will both get dressed, and I will drive us to town, to that small restaurant we both like so much. Thank you, Wei Ying. What would I be doing without you?"

"Probably still mulling over what to do with said letter," Wei Wuxian chuckles. "A date night, huh? I'm in!"

With that, he skips upstairs to get ready while Lan Wangji books a table for two. They take their time at the restaurant, giggling and flirting as if they were a young couple on their very first date together. They walk through town afterward, hand in hand, fingers intertwined, admiring the illuminated displays of the shops that have not closed yet. As they pass the jeweller’s shop, Wei Wuxian says:

“I get that they close their blinds after hours to make it more difficult for burglars to break in, but I’ve always wondered what a jewellery display would look like if it was illuminated by the streetlights around it. I am sure it would have the most beautiful sparkle to it!”

Lan Wangji huffs a laugh. “Only you can come up with such a beautiful image while looking at a grimy set of blinds.”

“But Lan Zhan, have you never wondered what it would look like?”

Lan Wangji shakes his head. “I know what it looks like. It’s…dark, but it’s as if a sea of tiny stars were sparkling all at once.”

“How do you know?”

“I just need to look into your eyes.”

“Lan Zhaaaaaan!” Wei Wuxian gasps, letting his head fall onto Lan Wangji’s shoulder, “you are incorrigible!”

“And you love it,” Lan Wangji replies without missing a beat.

Wei Wuxian laughs at that. “I really do,” he says.

All in all, it’s a quiet evening, just the two of them in their own little bubble, but it effectively manages to chase all thoughts of the letter away from Lan Wangji’s mind for at least a few hours. He goes to bed relaxed and happy and wakes up well-rested. 

For some reason, his mind wanders back to the jewellery shop. He’s not sure if Wei Wuxian had even been paying attention as to where exactly they had been walking, but this was the exact jeweller they had purchased their wedding bands at. Lan Wangji thinks the owner might have changed over the course of the years, but it still sports the same style of display. It makes Lan Wangji smile every time he passes it, remembering with fondness how nervous and giddy they both had been at the prospect of picking out wedding rings.

Next to him, Wei Wuxian lets out a loud snore. His face is half-smushed into the pillow, his mouth hangs wide open. He’s drooling, and his hair looks like a sentient mop.

Lan Wangji would marry him any day again.

…now here’s a thought .

Lan Wangji rarely uses any electronic devices before he had breakfast, but today he fishes his phone from his nightstand, looks something up in his calendar app, and sets a reminder. 

Wei Wuxian lets out another loud snore, effectively startling himself awake.

“Good morning, my love,” Lan Wangji says and reaches over to run his knuckles across Wei Wuxian’s sleep-warm cheek. “I’ll let you shower first today.”

Wei Wuxian blinks, then sits up, realising that Lan Wangji is on his phone.

“Is everything alright?” he asks, voice still heavy with sleep, but laced with concern.

“Mmhmm,” Lan Wangji replies, “everything is fine. I just thought of something and wanted to look it up before I lost the thought again.”

“...okay?” Wei Wuxian says, unconvinced,  but he doesn’t pry. Instead, he kisses Lan Wangji’s cheek before crawling out of bed, the comforter wrapped around his shoulders like a cocoon.

Lan Wangji gets up not long after, flicking on the heater, and getting a headstart on breakfast. They need the heater less and less these days, but spring is only just approaching, and the nights can still get really chilly.

The rabbits observe him from their indoor enclosure, crowding the fence for their good morning treat. Tofu, the brown-and-white Holland lop, eagerly stretches on his hind legs and raises his floppy ears as far as he can in anticipation of the tasty treat that Lan Wangji will supply him with. Meanwhile, Peanut Bunner, the light brown Netherland dwarf, tries to eat his way through the fence - something he’s tried for months now, but has never succeeded to pull off. He thumps, once, in frustration upon noticing that the fence still won’t budge, then focuses on the treat that’s being offered to him.

Wei Wuxian enters the kitchen when breakfast is halfway cooked, giving Lan Wangji enough time to shower and get ready himself. His hair doesn’t need a wash today, so showering is a quick affair, and Lan Wangji is back in the kitchen just in time to see Wei Wuxian leaning against the counter, his entire face shoved into the jar holding their coffee beans.

“Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji asks, confused.

“Let me,” Wei Wuxian whines, his voice distorted by the metal container. “Today is a ‘no coffee’ day, and if I can’t have the stuff, then let me at least smell it!”

Lan Wangji chuckles and sets the table. It’s during breakfast that he’s starting to grow nervous again. He knows that he should call his brother sooner than later, but he isn’t exactly looking forward to it. 

The whole thing is making him uneasy.

Ever observant when it comes to his husband, Wei Wuxian sets his bowl aside and takes Lan Wangji’s hand in his own.

“It will be alright,” he tells him. “Whatever your father might want, you are not alone in this.”

Lan Wangji nods, exhales loudly, then downs the rest of his tea. He takes one last long look at the letter before he snatches it from the living room table, takes his phone, and calls his brother.

***

It turns out that Lan Xichen has, in fact, not been contacted by their father. Lan Xichen is silent for the longest time before asking the same questions Lan Wangji has asked himself since first reading the letter. He doesn’t seem to have the same concerns as Wei Wuxian does, or rather: if he does, he does not mention them. 

“Do you want to meet him?” Lan Xichen asks gently.

“I am not sure,” Lan Wangji replies. “He is practically a stranger to me, but…at the end of the day, he is my father. I wonder if I should at least hear him out, see what he wants, before deciding what I am going to do.”

Lan Xichen hums. “That sounds like a wise choice. I’d also advise you to tell Shufu about it. I know he would let you do whatever you wish to do, but…this is still his older brother we are talking about. I think he should know about this.”

“Do you not want to meet him?” Lan Wangji inquires.

“I don’t know,” Lan Xichen replies truthfully, “but if you decide that you wish to meet him and would rather have me there with you, I’ll gladly come over.”

“I would like that very much,” Lan Wangji confirms. He knows Wei Wuxian would be by his side, but he feels like in this matter, he would also need the support of his family.

“Just let me know what you decide,” Lan Xichen tells him, “and don’t worry about calling Shufu. I’ll do it for you. I was due to call him anyway, so I might as well talk to him about it. Expect him to get back to you very soon.”

Lan Wangji thanks his brother, then ends the call. Wei Wuxian’s expression turns somber upon learning that his husband was the only one of the brothers who received a letter from their father, but he says nothing. Lan Wangji actively tries to ban said letter and its contents from his mind, at least until his uncle calls. He knows it wouldn’t do him any good to mull over all the ‘What Ifs’ in his head too many times. It would only make him spiral.

He doesn’t have to wait for too long. Lan Wangji’s phone rings while Wei Wuxian is in the fields tending to their crops. He returns to the farmhouse just as Lan Wangji ends the call and puts his phone away.

“I’ll prepare the guest bedrooms,” Lan Wangji tells him. “We’ll be having visitors very soon.”

Lan Qiren does indeed appear the next day, armed with a suitcase and a grimness to his face that even Lan Wangji has not seen very often. They let him settle into his room and offer him tea and snacks.

He is silent for the longest time before he says: “Wangji, let me see that letter.”

Lan Wangji wordlessly hands it to his uncle, who produces another letter from a small binder he has brought to the table. He unfolds both letters, lays them out side by side, and proceeds to stare at both for a while before packing away the one he has brought with him.

“It is indeed my brother’s handwriting,” Lan Qiren confirms. “I wanted to make sure that we are not facing someone trying to impersonate him.”

It’s a thought that had not even crossed Lan Wangji’s mind, but the idea of some stranger with no relation to his family whatsoever, trying to get close to them for reasons he cannot begin to guess, makes his skin crawl.

“But Shushu,” Wei Wuxian says, “who would possibly do that? It’s been so long! How many people outside of the family do even know what really happened back then?”

“A few,” Lan Qiren replies, “and as it goes to show, it doesn’t seem too difficult to find out your address, after all.”

Wei Wuxian shuts his mouth with a click, looking at Lan Wangji with worry in his eyes.

“Do you think we’re in danger?” he asks, his voice small.

Lan Qiren shakes his head. “I do not know what he wants, but I don’t remember him as a violent person.”

Lan Wangji is silent for the longest time. His voice is measured when he speaks.

“The last time I saw him, I…he and Mama were fighting. I remember yelling, but I…do not know if he ever laid a hand on her. Xichen might know.”

Lan Qiren huffs. “We can ask him tomorrow. Your father could have a temper, but between the two, your mother had always been the more spirited one.”

Lan Wangji remembers his mother as soft and gentle, painting or making music with them, singing lullabies until they were both asleep. The memories, in which she laughs loudly, runs with them across the grass and lifts them up to twirl them around until they are both shrieking in delight, are faded, such occasions made rare due to her illness - but they are there, nonetheless.

“She would have loved you,” he tells Wei Wuxian quietly.

Lan Qiren all but rolls his eyes. “She would have, and if her health would have allowed it, she would have gotten into all sorts of mischief with this one.”

“Ah, I’m sure I would have really liked her too,” Wei Wuxian agrees with a giggle. “But…what do we do now? Xichen won’t be here until tonight.”

“Now,” Lan Qiren says as he stores away his binder, “you will tell me every last piece of news you have about my grandnephews. How are the boys? What are they up to?”

So they tell him about Mo Xuanyu’s film festival tour in Europe, about A-Yuan and his progress with his studies, and about how he has asked them to pick a new first name for him. Lan Qiren makes a few name suggestions of his own but makes it clear that he won’t be offended if none of them are taken into consideration. After all, at the end of the day, he is not A-Yuan’s parent.

“We will make sure to suggest a few of them to him,” Lan Wangji tells him, already mentally crossing off the names he knows A-Yuan will dislike, or those he thinks are too old-fashioned.

“See that you do,” Lan Qiren says before stifling a yawn. “It has been a long journey; I hope you will excuse me while I rest for a bit.”

Wei Wuxian gets up from his seat. “Let me fix a hot water bottle for you, Shushu; the bedrooms can still get very cold at this time of year.”

“Don’t coddle me, boy, I am not made of glass,” Lan Qiren replies gruffly, before he adds, considerably less gruffly: “Thank you.”

Lan Xichen arrives just in time for dinner. Lan Wangji is grateful that no one wants to talk about his father while they eat - his uncle is silent, as always, although he nods along to what is being said. Most of the conversation is being held by Wei Wuxian, while Lan Xichen replies sparsely, but politely. They do the dishes together with Lan Wangji washing, Lan Xichen drying, Wei Wuxian putting everything away, and Lan Qiren supervising before Wei Wuxian gets a fire going in the fireplace, and they all regroup in the living room for a round of evening tea.

“So,” Wei Wuxian says. “What now?”

“We could ignore him,” Lan Qiren suggests. “He will either never contact you again, or-”

“Continue to pester us until we hear him out,” Wei Wuxian finishes for him.

“..not how I would have phrased it, but yes.”

Lan Wangji looks at his uncle. “Do you wish for us to ignore him?”

“It is not my decision to make,” Lan Qiren tells him. “I myself am curious about what he wants, although I am also wary of his potential motives. It has been such a long time; if he really wanted to get into contact with his children, he could have done so much sooner.”

“But what if he wasn’t able to for some reason?” Lan Xichen asks. “There’s a number of things that could have prevented him from contacting us.”

They both look expectantly at Lan Wangji as if it’s somehow his turn to speak.

“I…am still unsure,” he admits. “However I think we should meet him at least once, and hear what he has to tell us. After that, we will hopefully have a clearer picture and will be able to decide how to move forward.”

Lan Qiren reaches for the letter again. “He did include an email address,” he says after reading it over. “Go tell him that you would like to meet, but don’t say anything about us being with you.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Wei Wuxian inquires. “I mean, I will be at Lan Zhan’s side no matter what, but -”

“My brother has two sons,” Lan Qiren says, calmly, “He abandoned two innocent children. If one of them decides after this meeting that they do not wish to see him anymore, that is their choice to make. For now, he will meet both or none of them.”

Lan Wangji’s fingers hover over the screen of his tablet for the longest time before he manages to compose the most basic of e-mails, confirming that he would like to meet, preferably in a neutral place. He almost deletes it before even sending it off, but Wei Wuxian just silently squeezes his arm, and it gives him enough strength to finally hit the “Send” button.

“Now we wait,” Lan Qiren says as he finishes his tea.  

***

There’s a reply waiting in Lan Wangji’s e-mail inbox the following morning. He reads it aloud to all of them after breakfast. Lan Wangji’s father states that he will be in the area in three days’ time, and suggests a public park in the next town over as a meeting spot.

All of the Lans and Wei Wuxian agree that this seems like a safe place to meet, and Lan Wangji sends back a brief confirmation message. Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren decide to stay at the farmhouse for at least one more week, with Lan Xichen stating that he has a good replacement at the law firm for the time being, and Lan Qiren arguing that he was due for a holiday anyways.

While Lan Wangji knows that those are only excuses, he is grateful for their presence. He’s an emotional mess. He is trying to conceal it as much as he can, but the people around him see right through him, trying to gently turn his mind towards more pleasant things. 

At one point, Lan Qiren clears the dining table and sets up a game of Scrabble.

Wei Wuxian blinks at him.

“Lan Zhan…I didn’t know we even owned a Scrabble set,” he says, dumbfounded.

“You don’t,” Lan Qiren replies quietly. “I brought my own. Now come and sit down. You too,” he adds, giving Lan Xichen a stern look. “If I catch you going through your work correspondence once more today, I will personally feed your phone to the rabbits. You are here on leave and to support your brother.”

Lan Xichen only sighs and shakes his head, but he does put his phone into his trouser pocket. As he crosses the living room to sit down at the dining room table, he puts a hand on both Lan Wangji’s and Wei Wuxian’s shoulders and quietly says: “This might take a while.”

“It will take even longer if you don’t sit down this instant!” Lan Qiren warns him.

It does, indeed, take a while, and all of them end up going to bed hours past their bedtime, with tears of laughter in their eyes and a smile on their faces.

The day before he is scheduled to meet his father, Lan Wangji sets up another video call, this time with both of his sons. Lan Qiren has insisted that he wants to see them, and Lan Wangji has decided that he wants to update both young men on the situation at hand.

Wei Wuxian gives him a worried look.

“Lan Zhan, you know you don’t have to do this? You could just wait until tomorrow evening when you’ve seen him, and go from there.”

“I know,” Lan Wangji says, “but…I feel like…I want them to know, Wei Ying. Not because I feel like it’s necessary, or because I owe them, but…”

“You’d like to have their support too?” Wei Wuxian asks gently. 

Lan Wangji only nods.

Wei Wuxian smiles. “Then let’s do this,” he says.

A-Yuan is quiet, but his face shows just how worried he is. 

“I understand you would like to meet him,” he begins, “but please, A-die, don’t let him hurt you in any way.”

“I won’t,” Lan Wangji replies.

Wei Wuxian huffs. “Your A-die has a whole personal entourage ready to throw hands, metaphorically or otherwise, if that man tries anything funny.”

Mo Xuanyu resolutely nods in his small window on the screen. “If necessary I’ll come over and kick the dude in the nuts, also metaphorically or otherwise.”

“A-Yu!” Wei Wuxian exclaims. Lan Xichen huffs a laugh, and Lan Qiren looks like he’s five seconds away from developing an aneurysm.

Lan Wangji only fondly shakes his head. He has never doubted that his children would be there for him if he needed them, just as he and Wei Ying have always been, and will always be there for them, but to hear it spoken out loud warms his heart and gives him confidence. He doesn’t know what the following day will bring, or what he will learn about his father, but…it doesn’t matter.

Whether he’ll be returning with a light, a heavy, or even a broken heart does not matter, for Lan Wangji knows he will be coming home to a house full of warmth and love. That is all that matters.

***

The following day showers the farmhouse in a light drizzle. While they all make an effort to uphold casual conversation, the house is still quiet.

Almost too quiet , Lan Wangji thinks as he looks out of his bedroom window, and he knows it’s because he and his family are tense. For a moment he toys with the idea of sending another e-mail to his father to call off their meeting, but then Wei Wuxian enters the room, leans against his back, and snakes his arms around Lan Wangji’s waist.

“You’re not alone,” he says quietly. “We’re with you. In a few hours, you will know what your father wants, and you can decide from there how you will move forward. You know that you have our support, no matter what.”

Lan Wangji exhales loudly. “I know. I don’t even know why I am so nervous. I don’t know the man. I don’t have any connection to him besides the one we share through our DNA. There is no need for me to be nervous.”

Wei Wuxian hums. Lan Wangji can feel it vibrating between his shoulder blades.

“Are you afraid of being…disappointed?”

“Maybe,” Lan Wangji muses. “He did leave us, after all. What if I find out that he and I are not so different? What if I can see myself in someone I don’t like looking at?”

Slowly, Wei Wuxian detaches himself from his husband, takes him by the shoulders, and gently turns him around so they can face each other.

“And what about it?” Wei Wuxian says. “He is your father, it would only be natural for there to be similarities, but still. You two are not, and will never be the same. You are my husband, and you are the kindest, sweetest, most steadfast person I have ever known. You are not like him. You could have left me when I got diagnosed with my heart condition.”

“Never,” Lan Wangji replies firmly. He’s almost offended; how could Wei Wuxian even think to suggest such a thing?

“See? And yet I know people who leave their spouses for far more unimportant things.” 

Wei Wuxian reaches up and playfully boops the tip of Lan Wangji’s nose.

“I know you would never. That’s where you and he could never be the same.”

Lan Wangji lets out a sigh before he rests their foreheads together.

“Thank you,” he says, and Wei Wuxian minutely shakes his head.

“Not for that, Lan Zhan. Shall we get going? Whenever you’re ready.”

Lan Wangji closes his eyes, breathes in and out until he calms down, then nods. He kisses Wei Wuxian, short but sweetly, before taking his hand and walking downstairs with him, where his brother and his uncle are already waiting.

Lan Qiren drives them into town. Lan Wangji doesn’t trust himself behind the steering wheel. He can sense that his brother is just as nervous, even if he is trying to smile through it. Wei Wuxian is uncharacteristically silent, only speaking when addressed. He doesn’t let go of Lan Wangji’s hand until they’ve arrived and it’s time to exit the car.

Luckily the rain has stopped, and while the streets and pavement are still glossy, there are a few specks of blue peeking through the thick blanket of clouds. They walk in silence, the park a few streets away from the parking spot Lan Qiren has chosen. Lan Wangji is grateful for the short walk and the crisp air whipping against his face and clearing his mind.

Absent-mindedly he lifts his eyes to the sky above him. His eyes catch on a magnolia tree, its dark branches already sporting a multitude of buds, some still green and firmly closed, others already unfurling to display their blush-coloured petals.

It’s as if the spring blossoms themselves are trying to give him courage, he thinks and walks on. 

When Lan Wangji first spots him, his father is standing near an artificial pond, observing as goldfish swim their lazy rounds in the clear water. 

Lan Wangji notices that he and his uncle must be about the same height, and while he’s older than Lan Qiren, his face still looks handsome. He is clean-shaven, and he wears his hair short. His coat is well-tailored, and his shoes are clean.

Lan Wangji has seen his father for the last time when he was about five years old. He had seen him one other time before that. The face of the man who had been married to his mother has blurred and faded over the years, so seeing him now is like seeing him for the first time.

And yet, just like he and his brother have always found to be sharing physical similarities with Lan Qiren, Lan Wangji cannot deny that this man, the man before him, his father -

looks just like them.

The man turns as he notices them. His face is relatively smooth for his age, only a few wrinkles adorn the corners of his eyes, his mouth,  and his forehead. His eyes are clear and bright, their colour reminiscent of Lan Xichen’s eyes. They widen a fraction as they land on Lan Wangji, then scan over the rest of the group. 

He finally takes a step forward, then bows in greeting.

“Lan Zhan,” he says, and a shiver runs down Lan Wangji’s spine.

His voice. I remember his voice , he realises. It’s similar to his uncle’s, yet deeper, and somehow smoother. It reminds him of his own voice, yet at the same time it seems entirely different. He swallows, once, before regaining his composure.

“Lan Huan,” his father continues in greeting, and then, finally, “Qiren.”

“Haozhi,” Lan Qiren replies, his tone neutral.

Lan Haozhi’s gaze then lands on Wei Wuxian. “And you are…?”

“Lan Zhan’s husband,” Wei Wuxian tells him. “My name is Wei Wuxian.”

Lan Haozhi gives a small nod in Wei Wuxian’s direction. Lan Wangji cannot tell whether it is an approving gesture, but at least his father is acknowledging his husband.

“It is good to see you,” Lan Haozhi says, addressing Lan Wangji. “I was expecting you to come alone, but I am glad you came with your brother and uncle. I am happy to see you well.”

“What do you want?” Lan Qiren asks. Lan Wangji isn’t sure if he meant for his tone to be this gruff, or if he did it by accident.

“I wished to see my children,” Lan Haozhi replies. 

“Why now?” Lan Wangji finds himself asking. “It’s been almost four decades since we last saw you. If you wished to see both of us, why only contact me and not Brother too?”

“Because I wanted to prove to you that I mean it,” Lan Haozhi replies.

“What? By tracking down the address of a person who wishes to maintain their privacy?” Wei Wuxian interjects. Lan Wangji can feel how wary he is of his father-in-law, and he understands it, to some degree.

“Anyone can find out your brother’s address. He’s a famous lawyer. Even without knowing his courtesy name, it was the first thing that popped up when I looked him up online. You chose good names for both of the boys, Qiren.”

Lan Qiren only huffs but remains silent.

“Tracking you down was difficult,” Lan Haozhi admits, “but my connections at work made it possible. I was sure that you would contact your brother anyway if I was to write to you, given how close you had been as children. I am sorry if my letter scared you; it must have been quite the shock.”

“It was,” Lan Wangji confirms. “I still don’t understand. Why did you choose to contact me now? Why not earlier?”

“That’s something I would like to know too,” Wei Wuxian interjects. “I am trying to be open and polite, but I am very protective of my husband, so forgive me if I am more than just a little suspicious. Because to me it looks like you were not interested in your children before, but once one of them is rich and famous, you come crawling out of the woodwork?"

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji admonishes.

“Wei Wuxian has a point, Wangji,” Lan Qiren says, then looks back at his brother. “I cannot make any decisions for my nephews. They will have to decide how they wish to proceed once this is over. But I am warning you now, Brother: if you are only here to profit from my affluence and my family's generosity? Turn around, leave, and never come back. I love my nephews, and I will not let you hurt them again."

There’s a faint burning sensation in Lan Wangji’s eyes, and it takes him a moment to blink back the tears that are threatening to form. He has always known how much his uncle loved them, but Lan Qiren had never been exactly vocal about it. To hear it expressed in such a clear manner moves him more than he would like to admit.

Lan Haozhi sighs. 

“I understand that you are wary,” he says, “but I can assure you that money was never the reason for me wanting to meet you. I find myself fortunate to be in a good financial position.”

Focusing back on his sons, he says: “I am aware that I have been neither a good husband nor a good father. Your mother and I…”

He takes a few steps, then sits down on one of the benches surrounding the pond.

“When I first met her, I fell madly in love with her. She was kind and sweet and funny and beautiful, and I found myself enamoured very soon after meeting her for the first time. It didn’t take long for us to be engaged and married, and for a while, we were happy.”

“What happened?” Lan Wangji asks.

“We realised that fairy tales don’t always have a happy ending,” his father tells him. “Her love for me faded, though I know now that, had I given us the chance and the time, it might have turned into a beautiful friendship, because I knew that her affection for me still ran deep. But I was young and foolish and broken-hearted, and…in my broken-hearted state, I went looking for a scapegoat,”

“Us,” Lan Xichen exhales more than says. Lan Wangji turns to look at him, and sees how his eyes are swimming. He looks back at his father just in time to see him nod.

“She loved you so fiercely that my mind concluded there was no love left for me, because she had you now,” Lan Haozhi tells Lan Xichen. “It became difficult for me to be around you. We tried to mend things, tried to start over, but when she fell pregnant again and a second child was born, demanding all of her love, I -”

He shakes his head. “A part of me knew it was wrong. You were innocent children who needed their mother. I was an adult who should have been in control of his feelings but couldn’t even look at his own wife and children without feeling betrayed. So I took the easy way out and left. I was never proud of it, not back then, not now.”

He looks up to the sky, just like Lan Wangji has done earlier, and at that moment, Lan Wangji can see so much of himself and his brother in him that it hurts.

“I threw myself into my career,” his father goes on. “For years I would concentrate on nothing but work until I had established myself in the industry. I own a successful publishing house now.”

That explains things , Lan Wangji thinks but says nothing.

“I’ve tried forming new relationships and made friends, but every time it turned romantic, I either backed out before it even truly began, or they would leave, saying I was sucking the life out of them. I was unable to keep a partner in my life, and for the longest time, I didn't even realise that it was because I was too controlling, too jealous, and too constricting in my need for affection. I was suffocating the women I was with and didn’t even see it. Years later one of my coworkers, someone whose opinion I have always valued, called me out for it, and he wasn’t sugarcoating anything. It gave me pause. He suggested I go and see a therapist, that this kind of controlling behaviour was not normal, but I was too proud and too stubborn to even consider it at the time.”

“At the time,” Xichen says. “What happened to change your mind?”

Lan Haozhi’s gaze drifts off, staring into the distance for a while, fixed on nothing.

“I fell in love again,” he says. “It was a beautiful thing. I really thought it could work out this time…but I had not accounted for her fragile heart and mind. I had caged another bird, without even being truly aware of it, and she opened the cage with the help of a bottle of sleeping pills and a glass of whiskey.”

Lan Wangji wants to say something, but his throat feels like it’s made out of cotton. He knows that he’s jealous too, that he can get overprotective and even a bit controlling at times. but Wei Wuxian and he have found ways of dealing with it, and over the years, Lan Wangji has grown to relax.

Now though, as he recalls how he had reacted after Wei Wuxian’s heart complications had started, as he remembers the fight they had, he wonders what could have happened if he had let his jealousy and need for control get the best of him. Would he have ended up driving Wei Wuxian to a similar fate…?

He presses his eyes shut, trying to will away the mental images that are threatening to form behind his eyelids.

He can feel fingers slipping into his hand. He knows they are Wei Wuxians’, and their touch grounds him, and helps him breathe more evenly. Wei Wuxian is here, next to him, well and safe. 

Lan Wangji opens his eyes and looks at his husband, and finds him already looking back at him with a small but genuine smile, his eyes full of love and trust.

He can feel himself smiling back, only the tiniest curve of lips, but it’s enough to notice it. 

He then shifts his attention back to his father. The man looks…pale, genuinely haunted by the events he has just recounted. Lan Wangji does not know if he can forgive him for leaving him and his brother behind, but he doesn’t think that he would ever have wished for him to go through something like this.

“I didn’t know how to deal with it,” Lan Haozhi confesses, “and I began to drink excessively. We as a family do not process alcohol well, I’m sure you know this by now, so it didn’t take long for me to become addicted. It began to affect my professional life as well, but I was lucky in the sense that I was still lucid enough to get myself booked into alcohol withdrawal therapy. It was…hard, but I got through it, and I have been sober ever since. I began seeing a therapist regularly to explore what caused this addiction, and we addressed my issues with control and jealousy in relationships too. I am ashamed to say that it took me that long to realise that I had not only left and lost my wife but my children too. That they were never to blame. I started looking you up, just to get a glimpse of what might have become of you, but up until recently, I felt I had no right to contact you, after all that I had done.”

Lan Wangji swallows past the lump in his throat. “What made you change your mind?” he asks, his voice coming out hoarse.

“The coworker who called me out back then…he had an estranged daughter. He had, after years, finally gathered up the courage to contact her, but then he discovered that he was terminally ill, and he passed before he could even make an attempt at reconciling with his child. It all went so fast and was so unexpected, and I -”

This time, it is Lan Haozhi who swallows. Lan Wangji can see the bob of his Adam’s apple.

“It made me realise that we will never know how much time we have truly left. That if I wanted to see my children again, I should try and do it today. Who knows if I will still be able to tomorrow?”

He gets up from his bench, rises to his full height, then stands to face the group before him.

“Nothing of what I just said absolves me from what I have done to you,” Lan Haozhi says. “I’ve left my wife behind, knowing of her ailing health, even though she could have used the assistance and support. I abandoned my children, my beautiful sweet boys, just because my heart was trying to put a blame on them that was never meant to be theirs in the first place. I left my younger brother behind. I know you love your nephews, and I doubt that you ever regretted taking them in, but I also know that it could not have been easy for you. I can only thank you for raising them so well. I am not asking for forgiveness; I do not think I am deserving of it. If you would prefer not to see me again and to cease all contact with me, I will respect that, and take my leave. But…if it’s not too late, I would love to get to properly know you. I cannot make up for lost time, but if you could find it in your hearts to give me a chance…it would make me the happiest, and I promise I would try to make it worthwhile.”

The silence descending onto the park is almost deafening to Lan Wangji, despite the wind rustling the leaves of the trees. He feels overwhelmed and helplessly looks at his brother and uncle. 

“It is not my decision to make,” Lan Qiren says. “It has been years. I saw them grow up, saw them turn into the strong men they are today. But I also saw them suffer, saw them lose their mother, saw them struggle. They would have needed you, Brother. I did the best I could, but sometimes, we would have needed you. I would have needed you. I am glad you sought out help, and that it made you realise and process things about yourself, but at this present point I cannot tell you whether or not I wish to see you again.”

Lan Haozhi inclines his head. “That is only fair, and well in your right. You know now how to reach me, should you ever change your mind, but I will not press.”

Lan Xichen, who had been staring at the tips of his shoes up until now, raises his gaze and meets Lan Wangji’s. They look at each other in silence for a long time, until Lan Wangji feels that they have come to a mutual understanding.

He then looks over to Wei Wuxian, who gently squeezes his hand.

“Whatever is best for you, sweetheart,” he says.

Lan Wangji nods, opens his mouth, then closes it again, He wants to speak, but he feels physically unable to.

Lan Xichen speaks for him, then.

“I think that Wangji and I are of the same opinion. I think that…we both are not ready to fully accept you back into our lives yet. However, we do not want to cast you out entirely either. I…would like to keep in touch. We could write to each other, maybe schedule phone or video calls after that, and see how it goes. I think we should not rush into this too quickly, but give each other time instead.”

Lan Wangji nods. He thinks he can exchange letters with his father, and finds that he wants that, even, now that they have spoken. It creates a connection yet still gives him enough space.

“Yes,” Lan Haozhi says, and Lan Wangji thinks he can hear relief in his voice. “Of course, that sounds very reasonable. And even if we stay in touch for a while, I would not begrudge you if you would decide, one day, to break things off again.”

They do not hug as they part. They do not even shake hands. They bow, and Lan Wangji is very grateful for it. He feels drained, and he’s sure if he was to lie down on one of the park benches he would be asleep in minutes. Still, he walks through the park, with his family by his side, in the opposite direction to the one his father is taking.

“You okay?” Wei Wuxian asks gently, and Lan Wangji nods, humming. 

Quite abruptly, he stops walking, and loudly announces: “I would like to get some chocolate ice cream.”

This startles a bark of laughter out of Wei Wuxian, and Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren exchange a look.

“I don’t see why not,” Lan Xichen says, “though I’m more in the mood for pistachio myself.”

Lan Qiren closes his eyes for a moment, inhales deeply, then says: “Only if they have banana split on the menu.”

Wei Wuxian laughs again. “I know just the right place, then,” he declares, and leads them to his favourite ice cream parlour, where they indulge in overpriced but delicious desserts.

Lan Wangji doesn’t remember the drive home. He wakes up when Wei Wuxian gently nudges him to tell him that they’ve arrived home. They make tea, read, update the children on how things went, then look after the rabbits. They don’t make dinner but order in, too tired to cook. The day seems to have taken a toll on all of them, and they all retire to bed early.

Lan Wangji is exhausted, but he cannot fall asleep right away. Wei Wuxian is still reading, but soon enough he puts his book away and opens his arms. Lan Wangji burrows into them and lets himself be enveloped by the scent of lotus flower body wash, a hint of cinnamon, and something spicy that has become the epitome of comfort for him over the years.

“It’s been a hard day,” Wei Wuxian says and kisses the top of his husband’s head.

Lan Wangji doesn’t know when exactly he starts crying, but he finds that he cannot stop once his tears start flowing. He mourns his mother, he mourns the father he has lost, he mourns the years they could have had. He mourns the hardships his father had to go through, the pain it brought to so many people. He mourns for his brother, his uncle, and mourns for himself too, a little bit.

He is tired, and he is scared, yet at the same time, there is a hint of hope in him too. It is a delicate and fragile thing, and Lan Wangji waters it with his tears, in hopes that it might one day, maybe, bloom into something strong and beautiful. 

He cries in gratitude for his family, his husband, and his children, who love him so deeply and unconditionally that he feels breathless with it.

Wei Wuxian doesn’t say anything, just holds him through it, rubbing slow circles between his shoulder blades and kissing his forehead.

Eventually, Lan Wangji’s tears stop flowing, his breathing evens out. We Wuxian wipes the last bit of moisture away from his face with his thumbs, then kisses him sweetly.

They don’t say anything else, and not long after, sleep claims them.

***

True to their words, Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen do stay for another week. Nie Mingjue stops by, claiming that he only wishes to visit, but Lan Wangji notices the looks he sends Lan Xichen.

“He’s been worried too,” Wei Wuxian comments as they are both in the kitchen preparing dinner. “I think he would have loved to be here as well.”

Lan Wangji hums. “As much as I like him, I don’t think he would have stayed as level-headed as needed if he had attended that meeting. Still, I’m glad Xichen has him. I feel like he’s all he’s ever yearned for.”

“So am I,” Wei Wuxian agrees. “They’re a good match. We should invite them over to stay here for a few days during the summer months, including Jingyi.”

“That would be lovely,” Lan Wangji nods, then pauses. 

Wei Wuxian stares at him. “Lan Zhan? Are you alright?”

“... Sizhui ,” he says. “It means…Wei Ying, do you remember how much we wanted A-Yuan, back then? How he turned out to be everything we had ever yearned for, as parents?”

Wei Wuxian blinks, then it clicks. “You mean…as a name?”

Lan Wangji nods. “What do you think?”

“Sizhui,” Wei Wuxian repeats and smiles. “It’s beautiful. I think it would suit him. We should ask him whether he likes it the next time we talk.”

Lan Wangji leans over and kisses Wei Wuxian’s temple in agreement.

***

Parting, it turns out, is a more emotional affair than Lan Wangji would have expected. His brother hugs him tight, holding on for longer than usual, and even his uncle envelops him in an embrace. Wei Wuxian is graced with the same treatment, and the expression on his face as Lan Qiren wraps him into a hug is one that Lan Wangji will remember for a long time.

The farmhouse feels different without his brother and his uncle here with them, and while Lan Wangji knows that he will miss them, a part of him is happy to have his home to himself and his husband again. 

They soon fall back into their routine. Lan Wangji doesn’t touch his writing software. He still has no idea what he could possibly write about, but he finds that he embraces the idea of taking a break, of letting his mind rest for a while, just to see where it will take him. Besides, he has other things on his mind.

He goes out to buy groceries one afternoon and stops by the jeweller’s while he is in town. He phones Wei Wuxian to let him know that he doesn’t need to cook, as he will bring takeout. It’s already late when he returns home, the sky turning a dark blue, and the windows of the farmhouse casting a warm glow onto the land surrounding it.

From the driveway, Lan Wangji can hear faint music and sees Wei Wuxian’s silhouette dancing through the living room. As he enters the house, Lan Wangji hears that Wei Wuxian is not only dancing but singing along to a cheerful song from the late 1960ies playing on their phonograph. He slips out of his coat and shoes, puts his bags onto the kitchen table, then walks over to the living room and takes hold of Wei Wuxian’s hand, who squeaks in surprise, then laughs as Lan Wangji joins in to dance with him. As The Foundations stop singing about buttercups, the music switches to a more gentle melody, and Wei Wuxian leans his head onto Lan Wangji’s shoulder, a happy smile on his face.

“I will never get tired of this,” he says, “us dancing together in this room. Ah, Lan Zhan, it’s linked to the fondest memories!”

Lan Wangji hums. “Have I ever told you that I actually used to dislike dancing?”

“What? No way!”

“Yes, Wei,” Lan Wangji replies with an arched eyebrow, and Wei Wuxian throws his head back and laughs.

“I didn’t like the close proximity to people all that much while dancing,” Lan Wangji explains. “It felt awkward to dance with people I didn’t know at all and was not passionate enough about it to take lessons.”

“And yet, you asked me to dance back then?” Wei Wuxian asks.

“I really wanted to,” Lan Wangji admits, “and I have never stopped wanting to ever since.”

“You old sap,” Wei Wuxian says before pressing a kiss to Lan Wangji’s lips.

They dance on in silence for a while, before Lan Wangji says: “Do you know what just occurred to me?”

“Hmm?”

“That we never had a honeymoon. We got married, and then it was us and the farm.”

“True,” Wei Wuxian agrees. ”It’s not easy to find someone who is willing to take over a small farm for a prolonged period of time and happens to have the knowledge on how to actually run it. Though I suppose that Luo Qingyang and Mianmian could both help if we really wanted to. Why? Do you have a destination in mind?”

Lan Wangji nods. “A-Yu happens to be in Venice for the film festival at the end of August.”

“Ooooh, I’ve seen pictures, it looks like a beautiful place,” Wei Wuxian muses. “Wouldn’t that be too touristy?”

“Maybe,” Lan Wangji says, “but I don’t think I would mind if I was there with you and our oldest son who technically isn’t our oldest son.”

Wei Wuxian laughs again. “I’m sure he’d love to stay and explore the city too if he can. But…Lan Zhan. It wouldn’t be a real honeymoon.”

“Why?”

“Well, for one, usually a honeymoon involves only the married couple.”

“I wouldn’t mind if our children were to join us,” Lan Wangji tells him. “What about you?”

Wei Wuxian seems to think about it. “...hmmm, I don’t think I would mind either.”

“And your second reason why this cannot be a honeymoon?”

“Ah Lan Zhan, but you see, a honeymoon typically takes place right after the wedding. I’m not sure you can catch up on a honeymoon almost twenty years after the wedding has taken place. I don’t think you’re going to marry me again, are you now?”

Lan Wangji only looks at him.

Wei Wuxian stops dead in his tracks.

“Lan Zhan. Tell me you are joking.”

Lan Wangji shakes his head. “It might not be our twentieth wedding anniversary yet, but this summer will mark the twentieth summer since we first danced together, since you first kissed me, since we woke up in each others’ arms for the first time. I believe this deserves to be celebrated, and…if you would be willing, I would gladly renew my vows with you. Either this very summer or on our actual twentieth wedding anniversary.”

Wei Wuxian stares at him, mouth hanging agape. 

“Lan Zhan, I…I don’t know what to say.”

“Is that a No?”

“No! It’s not a No, I just - of course I wanna marry you again, you fuddy-duddy! You’ve just had me speechless for a second. And now you’ve made me cry!”

He wipes away a stray tear that has escaped his eye, all while still smiling widely.

“Don’t tell me you also got a ring.”

“I did,” Lan Wangji says.”

“Lan Zhan! You shouldn’t have!”

“I wanted to.” 

He takes it out of his trouser pocket. It’s a very thin one, so thin in fact that Wei Wuxian will be able to wear it stacked on top of his old wedding ring. A tiny golden sun sits atop the band.

Wei Wuxian looks at it but doesn’t put it on. Instead, he puts it back into Lan Wangji’s hand and says: “What would you say if we go into town next week and see if we can get one just like this for you, only with a moon instead of the sun, and use them as our new wedding bands to compliment the original ones?”

“I really like that idea,” Lan Wangji says. “If we go to Venice this summer, we could marry at the beach. I remember you saying you wanted a wedding by the water. Only you, me, and our children.”

“Hmmm, and maybe after that, we could revisit whether we wish to foster again,” Wei Wuxian suggests.

The phonograph only makes scratching sounds by now, and Wei Wuxian detaches himself long enough from Lan Wangji to turn it off and lift the needle.

“I would raise twenty more children with you, my love, if that’s what we both want and fate would allow us to,” Lan Wangji says, making Wei Wuxian laugh again.

As he calms down, he looks up at Lan Wangji with stars in his eyes.

“Do you even know how much I love you?” he asks quietly.

Lan Wangji inclines his head. 

“I have a faint idea,” he says, earning a shove with no heat behind it from his husband.

“Lan Zhan!”

Without preamble, Lan Wangji lifts Wei Wuxian up into his arms. Wei Wuxian can do nothing but squeak and wrap his legs around Lan Wangji’s hips for balance.

“I love you more than words can say,” Lan Wangji tells him. “I don’t think there will ever be words to let you know just exactly how much you mean to me. Hence why I have decided that I am going to show you.”

They say that life is like a box full of chocolates - you’ll never know what you’ll get. Each and every piece is filled to the brim with flavours and tastes that you’re familiar with, that you find you like a little less, or that you have yet to discover. Tonight, as Lan Wangji carries a giggling Wei Wuxian up to their bedroom, the groceries forgotten on the kitchen table, their shared box is filled with chocolates that taste like laughter, love, and the first blossoms of spring.