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Wei Ying takes back everything complimentary she thought about the cute person who’s the bouncer at the alphabet soup (BIPOC/LGBTQ) karaoke night. Their side shave may be very cool, but their personality is clearly not.
“You are not allowed to bring in outside beverages,” they say, not even reacting to Wei Ying’s patented Cute Pout (™). Wei Ying put on sparkly lip gloss for this! This is her foolproof method!
“It’s just a couple of nips! I don’t get paid until the 15th so I can’t afford the overpriced drinks inside, c’mon, you know how it is,” Wei Ying says, shifting on her heels. Since she broke up with Mianmian and Jiang Cheng isn’t here to spot her, she really can’t afford it, but she does need that sweet sweet serotonin and freedom that comes from hanging out in an explicitly trans-friendly place.
“The money benefits the local BIPOC trans safe house,” the bouncer says, and they’re frowning more than they were when their long fingers first brushed against the pile of nips Wei Ying stashed in her purse.
“Yes, I’m aware; I used to live there,” Wei Ying says, her voice coming out more annoyed than she means to. There’s a few people in line behind her now, probably all staring. This is so stupid. She came here to have a nice time, and this hardass is ruining her night. She’s not ashamed of her time living in the somewhat shabby building that snooty local queers call the burial mounds (yes there is a pet cemetery in the backyard next to the urban farm, yes they dumpster dive weekly to source food for everyone who lives there, yes it’s the most community Wei Ying has ever experienced in her life).
Any self-respecting snooty queer would, at this point, just let her in. That’s what Wei Ying tells herself as she watches this person’s face for the smallest softening of expression, the guilt that marks her as “one of the ones who needs help” and therefore as lesser than those who can afford to go in and spend $15 on a cocktail to help those in need.
It doesn’t happen.
“Please dump your nips or step to the side, I cannot let you in with those. It is a safety issue,” the person says, deadpan as ever.
Wei Ying huffs, and the person behind her in line winces sympathetically, but there’s nothing to be done. She steps aside and considers her options.
There’s really only one. She downs several nips, one after the other, and walks pointedly to the end of the block to recycle them, making sure her heels thonk as loudly as is possible on the cement.
There’s only one person ahead of her when she gets back in line, and the bouncer lifts their eyebrows when they see her again.
“May I see your ID and look in your purse?”
Wei Ying huffs. “You literally already looked at my—okay fine, you know what, sure.”
She digs out her government ID again. It’s transphobic, is what it is, checking IDs at the venue. If she had the money and time to fix her ID so it matched her gender presentation, maybe it wouldn’t be so transphobic, but they should know!!! They should know.
If Wei Ying didn’t know better, she’d say that the bouncer didn’t recognize her. Her ID is looked at for a good 30 seconds, and then her purse is opened and the flashlight shined in. No nips.
“Everything pass inspection?” Wei Ying asks, as sweetly as she can manage. Everything’s starting to get pleasantly fuzzy, and she’s getting her groove back.
“You drank all of them?” The bouncer asks, stony facade breaking for a moment.
“Do you think I can afford to just throw alcohol away?”
“That many shots in a short time is inadvisable for—”
“Yeah I don’t need a lecture from an uptight asshole, thanks,” Wei Ying sneers. “Am I cleared to go or do you need to strip search me?”
The bouncer visibly swallows, and shakes their head. They motion to the door.
Wei Ying cheers, and maybe not super unintentionally hits the bouncer’s knee with her hip as she walks in. What a dick. At least they knew better than to search her; she managed to tuck three of the nips into her outfit before she shot a couple. She’s got to work tomorrow!
***
Wei Ying doesn’t actually know anyone else going to this dim sum drag brunch that her sister gave her tickets to (“Ah, meimei, I’m so tired with the pregnancy and you know my wife- she’d rather be at home anyway, can you please go support them?”) so she drags Wen Ning with her because he’s told her he wants more excuses to wear his goth boy fancy clothes, and what better place than a drag brunch?
It takes a little more encouragement than she expected for Wen Ning to be cool with wearing his new leather harness over his dress shirt, but they get there in the end. The show hasn’t even started yet when Wei Ying leads them to a table that looks like it’s got a few seats open in the back.
She pulls out a seat next to a tall guy whose back is facing her. He looks…vaguely familiar.
“Xichen-ge?”
He turns around almost immediately, the same warm smile on his face that she remembers from Chinese school.
“Um, you knew me back when I was Wei Wuxian,” she explains, the easiest way she knows of calling back to people from her past. “I’m Wei Ying now.”
Realization dawns on his face. “Oh wow! Wei Ying! It’s so good to see you,” he exclaims smoothly.
After Wen Ning is introduced, they get to chatting. Wei Ying hasn’t thought about Chinese school in a while- she’d gone mainly at the insistence of the Jiangs, and because they had cultivation class after the mandatory Mandarin lessons. That had been before she’d dropped out of the cultivation world, back when she’d thought that cultivation was the answer to all her problems.
“I seem to remember you and my little sibling getting along very well,” Xichen reminisces.
Wei Ying laughs. “That’s one way to put it. I always sent my papermen to pull on their pigtails in cultivation class—-how are they doing?” She remembers the sour expressions she got in response with much fondness.
“Oh, they’re really good, just got back in town for a postdoc—I—actually, there they are! Lan Zhan!”
Xichen gestures wildly across the room and Wei Ying cranes her neck. When she sees where he’s waving, her jaw drops. It’s the annoying bouncer from a few weeks ago.
She supposes she’s not that surprised that she didn’t recognize them—-they’ve changed a lot in the intervening years, and they no longer seem to have a penchant for cute overall dresses. They’ve clearly grown out of that style.
“Lan Zhan, do you remember Wei Ying?“
“Hello,” Lan Zhan, who clearly remembers their most recent meeting, says.
“Hey,” Wei Ying responds, not willing to be the less petty one in this situation. It was their hardassery that was the problem. And they even saw Wei Ying’s full ID! They would have probably remembered her at that point!! She was an OLD FRIEND that happened to not recognize them and they had treated her like a criminal. The nerve.
“Uh, yeah, well, what a fun reunion huh?” Xichen asks Wen Ning, the only person who is still contributing good vibes to the group.
“That’s so cool you had cultivation class as part of your Chinese school,” Wen Ning offers as he eats one of the har gow. “I didn’t learn much until I got a scholarship to summer camp.”
“Rich people Chinese school,” Wei Ying offers as an explanation before she stuffs half a turnip cake in her mouth. She thinks she sees Lan Zhan huff out of the corner of her eye, which puts her in a better mood.
Thankfully before they can get more into Wei Ying’s childhood the performances start, and Wei Ying throws herself into the enjoyment of them. The queens are incredible— they swerve their way through the tables and the carts as if they were made for this, and their music choice? Impeccable and mostly old school, which seems right for the crowd.
Yanli had slipped what felt like a hefty envelope full of ones into Wei Ying’s purse the last time they saw each other, so Wei Ying makes her sister proud and thoroughly tips all the queens. She gives Xichen some to give to them too, since he seems just as excited as she does.
One of the queens, Sue Xi, beelines to their table on her second act. Wei Ying realizes with some delight that she is singing at least one verse to each person around the table, starting with Lan Zhan, whose ears immediately turn red. By the time she gets to Wen Ning, he’s a little more comfortable, even when Sue hooks a finger into his harness and pets his hair. Wei Ying screams in delight and accepts Sue’s lick to her cheek with much enthusiasm.
For the last song, all the queens and kings perform and Wei Ying makes a show of tipping for everyone at the table. She sees Lan Zhan leaning away from her and makes a special show of motioning towards them, which piques the interest of Mama Tofu and Dapper (pronounced “Dappa”) Cabbage. Mama Tofu takes a dumpling off of Lan Zhan’s plate and kisses it and offers it to them to eat. Surprisingly, they do, causing the entire table to cheer.
At the end of the afternoon, Wei Ying is full of tasty food and good cheer, and even Lan Zhan’s general party pooper demeanor doesn’t diminish that.
***
It’s Jiang Cheng’s Important Research Presentation Day. Wei Ying has had it in her planner for six months, ever since he texted her that it was happening and she demanded he tell her the date.
He’s assured her that it’s not that exciting, just a summation of his research so far toward his PhD, but Wei Ying is obviously planning on sitting in the front row and may or may not have made signs. She will stop embarassing/cheering on her little brother when she’s dead.
“Didi!!” She yells when she sees him enter the building. He’s wearing the purple shirt that she bought him last Christmas, bless him.
Jiang Cheng protests when she hugs him enough to pick him up, slightly uncomfortable, but at least he’s grown out of his horrific teenage angst at this point.
“I told you you didn’t have to come,” he protests, letting her take the thermos of coffee out of his hand so he can readjust his bag.
“And not support my baby brother’s research??? Plus, Yanli and Zixuan had a prenatal appointment and you know she would feel so guilty if one of your sisters wasn’t here for you.”
Jiang Cheng mutters something and shakes his head, but in a pleased way.
“How are you? It’s been so long since I saw you!”
“Two weeks?”
“You’ve grown up so much in that time!!”
Jiang Cheng’s annoyed groan is music to Wei Ying’s ears, and she laughs when he bumps her with his shoulder.
“I’m literally twenty six years old.”
“No matter what you’re still my didi. And are those new facial hairs I see?? Your mustache is really coming in!”
Jiang Cheng turns red and quickens his pace toward the lecture hall, but Wei Ying can tell he’s secretly pleased.
***
When they arrive at the lecture hall, Wei Ying obediently sits in the front row and does not yell anything at her brother anymore, although she does quietly arrange her “Jiayou Jiang Cheng!!!” sign at her feet and she can tell when he sees it and rolls his eyes.
He doesn’t look too nervous as he begins his talk, and Wei Ying settles in to listen to her brother’s voice. She never went far enough in school to understand most of the cultivation theory that he’s working on, something about a combination of cultivation with electricity, but he’s a good enough researcher that he’s explaining it well enough that a layperson could understand. Theoretically, it sounds like there are real options for renewable energy to come from cultivation, especially ancestral cultivation weapons and tools.
At the end of the lecture when the small number of academics assembled clap awkwardly, Wei Ying cheers, which prompts another eyeroll from Jiang Cheng.
“Any questions?” Jiang Cheng asks, moving to his oh-so-helpful “Questions?” slide with the image of a puppy with a question mark over its head, because he’s fucking adorable.
“Yes?”
“Have you considered that the tools you are proposing we use for energy sources could have a mind of their own?”
“Can you explain what you mean?” Jiang Cheng’s smiling but there is that line between his eyebrows that’s almost a frown.
“Some of these old weapons were created with violent uses in mind. We know that cultivated objects can develop some echoes of their experiences in a way that is not completely in line with what we are able to glean from our current tools. Have you considered this?”
Wei Ying looks over her shoulder to see who is asking this question, and what the fuck. It’s Lan Zhan?
“Uh, we haven’t posed that question exactly, but it’s certainly something we can consider during the vetting process.”
Wei Ying shifts in her seat, annoyed that her brother looks so uncomfortable and Lan Zhan looks so smug. She turns and looks at them.
“I’m sorry but are you suggesting that we’d have a one ring to bind them situation from those weapons? There is no Sauron in this scenario; there’s just cultivation families with their ancestral heirlooms.”
“Wei Ying—” Jiang Cheng starts, and Wei Ying realizes in the back of her mind that she is beginning to Make A Scene.
“There may not be a Sauron, but it’s naive to think that cultivation families didn’t have agendas with their heirlooms,” Lan Zhan says, and Wei Ying takes a moment to feel glad that at least they look surprised that she’s there too.
“That doesn’t mean that you have to shut down research that is interested in it, surely that’s being overly fearful of—”
“There is no talk of shutting anyone down, I am merely suggesting more thorough groundwork before—”
“If you’re so worried about it, why don’t you research it?”
“WEI YING!” Jiang Cheng shouts, and it’s his ‘I’m very mad actually’ voice, so Wei Ying shuts up. “Hi, yes, hello, this is still my lecture. Dr. Lan, thank you for the feedback, I will take it into consideration. Wei Ying. Please stop arguing now. Does anyone else have other questions?”
Wei Ying sits back in her seat, chided. She lets the hot mess of embarrassment and ‘Did I really just do that?’ wash over her and eventually ebb as she watches Jiang Cheng deftly answer the remaining questions, thankfully less contentious than Lan Zhan’s.
Jiang Cheng doesn’t acknowledge her as everyone leaves. Wei Ying watches him pack his bag and grab his coffee and leave without saying anything. She’s not surprised, really, and she’s happy enough to give him space, given how much she fucked up.
She stares up at the harsh overhead lights for a minute once the lecture hall is empty, very specifically not wondering what her life would have been like if she had finished her cultivation degree and gone into grad school like Jiang Cheng. They’re very different people, after all. Wei Ying’s not sure she could have dealt with it as well as he has.
When she finally heads out to her car (Jiang Cheng’s sign gets recycled, she doubts he’ll want it as a memento), she runs into—oh joy—Lan Zhan. They look as if they want to continue their conversation.
“I don’t think JRR Tolkein was aware of cultivation when the books were written, although I do think the story provides a decent allegory for—”
“What’s your problem?” Wei Ying asks, frustrated. “Why are you such a dick?”
Lan Zhan raises their eyebrows. “Excuse me?” God, why is their voice so deep and even, it’s so stupid.
“You harass me outside karaoke, you get all snooty at brunch, you diss my brother at his lecture, like, what the fuck is your problem!”
“I don’t—”
“It’s one thing for you to be a dick to me, but being a dick to my brother is just a megadick move, like, come on,” Wei Ying snaps, realizing belatedly that some of this is misplaced anger at herself. She’s the one who’s not welcome here, really. She’s the one who overstepped. Not Lan Zhan.
“I—I didn’t realize I was being a dick.” Lan Zhan tries, still keeping pace with Wei Ying as she walks toward the parking lot.
“Yeah, well, you were. Very Saruman the White.”
Lan Zhan stops. “No.”
Wei Ying smirks.
“Just sitting up there in your tower with your palantir, thinking you can see the evils of the future, choosing the dark side—”
“That’s not even—-”
“Anyway, go make some uruk-hai, see if I care,” Wei Ying yells as she reaches her car. She tries to sound mad but she laughs a little after she closes the door, and doesn’t make eye contact with Lan Zhan (still standing where they stopped) as she drives off.
***
It’s a relatively slow day at the farmer’s market, still early enough in spring that not everyone wants to be outside yet, and Wei Ying compensates by occasionally launching rubber bands in the direction of the Wens’ radish stand (it’s not really a radish stand but she calls it that because 1. Their radishes are enormous and 2. It’s funny). Wen Qing doesn’t dignify her with a response but Wen Ning will occasionally launch them back when he’s sure no one will get caught in the crossfire. It’s still early enough in the day that Wen Qing will chase her off if she goes over to talk to them because it’s “bad for business,” but after lunch she’s looking forward to discussing the latest dramas of the burial mounds with them.
Wei Ying’s tiny booth doesn’t take much time to rearrange but she does it anyway, trying to place the best sellers (mood-enhancement rings) at the front. By the time she’s decided to put the most expensive items (charmed bracelets with cooling or warming effects) behind them, traffic has picked up enough that there’s a few people who are curiously eyeing her booth from the safety of the main path. She smiles at them encouragingly, and soon enough one comes over.
After she’s sold a good mood ring and a sexy mood ring, Wei Ying scans the oncoming crowd and—oh no.
“Ugh,” she groans, almost involuntarily. She can feel her heart rate speed up just looking at Lan Zhan. Really? Here? What lesbian-adjacent activity has Wei Ying done in the last month or two that Lan Zhan hasn’t crashed at this point?
There’s even someone beautiful hanging on Lan Zhan’s arm, pointing at produce and giggling. Gross.
“OOOh cultivated curiosities, babe, I love jewelery!”
Wei Ying feels her stomach drop down to her ass but she mentally shakes out of it and puts on her best customer service smile.
“Hiiii Lan Zhan! So good to see you! And—”
“Oh, you know ZhanZhan? That’s so cool! I’m Susie.”
“So cool,” Wei Ying agrees, glad she doesn’t have to shake Susie’s hand from behind the booth.
Lan Zhan seems to have adopted a “What are you doing here?” displeased expression, which, Wei Ying could ask them the same thing, and also she was here first!
“Are you licensed?” Lan Zhan asks, one of Wei Ying’s bracelets dangling from their long fingers. They’ve obviously noticed the jewelry has been made with talisman paper effects.
“Of course,” Wei Ying responds in her most bored voice. And, because Lan Zhan probably won’t be assuaged by just that response, “License D- miscellaneous minor enhancements below major threshold, approved by the board of cultivators as they are not considered to be a class C or higher level.”
“So you are not licensed, but your jewelery is.”
Ugh. Wei Ying was hoping Lan Zhan wouldn’t notice that. “Yep, that’s allowed!” She says instead. It’s just annoying that she’s not licensed because she can cultivate at a licensed level, but it’s way too expensive to get licensed now that she’s a college dropout.
“It is,” Lan Zhan replies, still frowning slightly. Wei Ying desperately wants them to move on, and by the looks of it, so does Susie.
“I’ll go and check out that farmstand so you can buy me something I’ll like,” Susie says, and Wei Ying thinks it’s supposed to be flirty but it sounds kind of entitled. Nevertheless, she watches her ally in getting Lan Zhan the fuck away from her stand leave to look at the Wens’ radishes.
“The sexy mood rings are a good girlfriend present,” Wei Ying supplies.
Lan Zhan makes a face that is clearly telegraphing a distinct discomfort that Wei Ying shouldn’t know about this situation.
“Uhhhh,” Wei Ying offers, because she doesn’t have any jewelry for sale that’s appropriate for Lan Zhan’s expression. “I got some ‘forget you ever met me’ anklets in my car?”
Lan Zhan frowns deeper. “That’s definitely above class C—”
“Oh my god it’s a joke! It is a joke. Please take your frowny face and relationship problems and your shiny hair and go elsewhere, you’re really harshing my vibe out here.” Wei Ying flaps her arms theatrically at Lan Zhan because she really does need them to leave if she’s going to get any more sales today.
Lan Zhan’s expression doesn’t change, but they insist on buying a cooling bracelet before they move on.
Wei Ying tries not to wonder if they’re gonna use it for sex stuff.
***
Although they’re significantly cuter than dogs, Wei Ying isn’t entirely sold on cats. They’re a little unpredictable to her taste, and they have very sharp bits.
Huaisang, on the other hand, loves cats, despite not having adopted one, hence visiting a cat cafe. Wei Ying has come along ostensibly for moral support but mostly to listen to the newest gossip in a setting that isn’t her messy apartment or one of Huaisang’s preferred $10-minimum-latte cafes.
Huaisang let Wei Ying know she’s feeling very she/her today, which Wei Ying could probably have guessed given the cute green sundress and hat with matching green ribbon, but she appreciates the heads up.
“This one’s named Roberto, Wei Ying, isn’t he so cute?” Huaisang chirps, tickling the chin of a tabby ginger cat with a white chest and white splotches on his paws.
“He looks very soft,” she admits, and tentatively pats the cat above the butt. That’s usually a safe spot.
“Don’t you want to adopt him?” Huaisang asks, looking at Wei Ying slyly. “I bet it must be lonely now that you’ve moved into your own place.”
“I’m barely responsible for myself yet,” Wei Ying counters, scritching where Roberto has clearly pushed his butt up toward her hand. “I don’t need to be responsible for another being. Like, I’m not even at fish-level yet, let alone cat.”
“I guess, but then I could come visit you and Roberto—”
“Just get your own damn cat!”
Huaisang sighs dramatically. “I can’t yet, Wei Ying, you know I’m still getting over Steven and I don’t know that I’m willing to let another man into my life just yet.”
Wei Ying thinks that’s a really weird way to refer to a cat, but takes the conversational segue to ask more questions about the breakup with Steven.
She gets the whole sordid story as they settle on the floor near Roberto and a few other cats.
There’s a jingle that announces another customer in the cafe, but Wei Ying has no reason to look up until Huiasang waggles her eyebrows expressively.
“Can I help you-oh, hi Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying’s in a slightly better mood than she was at the farmer’s market, helped by the fact that Roberto is purring merrily at her. She’s not immediately annoyed that Lan Zhan has shown up, which is an improvement. “How are things?”
“Things are good.”
“How’s your girlfriend?” Huaisang asks, and Wei Ying loves her friend dearly but also maybe wants to murder her in that moment because it’s very awkward to admit that she told Huaisang all about their encounter at the farmer’s market.
Lan Zhan shrugs. “Susie? Not my girlfriend.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, is there a better word? Partner?” Huaisang offers, causing Lan Zhan to wince in a similar way they did last time.
“No. My uncle tried to set us up. It didn’t work.”
“Aw, too bad!” Huaisang chirps, fluttering a hand at Lan Zhan like she’s their auntie. “We’ll find you the right person soon enough— what’s your type?”
Wei Ying stares at Huaisang, trying to motion in at least five of their mutually agreed upon subtle cues that she thinks this is a poor choice of conversation topic. Huaisang pointedly ignores her.
Lan Zhan, to their credit, does not respond. They just stare at Huaisang, then at Wei Ying, then back at Huaisang.
“Okay, not a type then—are you into girls mostly? Or guys? Or theys?”
Again, no response. Wei Ying is clenching her nails into her fist with the effort not to yell at Huaisang. The cat doesn’t seem to have noticed, although he does want to chew on her shoelaces.
“Don’t pay attention to Huaisang, she just secretly wants to be a matchmaker.”
“How dare you! It’s not a secret. I very openly want to be a matchmaker so that I can go to someone’s wedding and be like, ‘This is all thanks to me!’”
“See? It’s not about you, Lan Zhan. She just wants to know everyone’s business.”
“That and for some reason none of my friends are in relationships.” Huaisang purses her lips thoughtfully and then places her hand on Wei Ying’s shoulder. “You know, if you let me set you up I bet I could find a great option—”
“NO THANK YOU,” Wei Ying yells too loudly, scaring the cats away. “Lan Zhan, how is your brother? Maybe Huaisang can set him up?”
Lan Zhan’s face has what Wei Ying might call their amused frown. “He is unfortunately painfully straight and in a relationship.”
“Ohhh nooooo, I’m so sorry for you, that must have been devastating for your parents,” Huaisang says mournfully.
There is a moment of pause as the amused frown shifts from the slightest of smiles back to a fake frown. “Yes, it’s been a rough time for our family, but we have learned to accept him.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Huaisang nods sagely. “It’s not every straight guy that gets that chance.”
***
Wei Ying has always hated hardware stores. She’s just not that kind of lesbian. But sometimes it’s a long weekend and her siblings are at some kind of Jiang family reunion that she is not invited to, and she doesn’t want to bother anyone else because that already feels shitty but she needs to fix a hole she made in her bathroom wall while trying to change out a light fixture. She’s put it off as much as possible, just living with her shame while going to the bathroom, but her landlord’s supposed to stop by tomorrow and she really doesn’t want to get evicted.
So she’s at a hardware store on a Sunday morning, refusing to make eye contact with any of the helpful people in brightly colored vests, because she’s stubborn and also smart, goddammit, this shouldn’t be that hard. She can write talismans to charm jewelry like nobody she’s ever heard of!
Staring at the shelves of spackle works toward barely putting off a mental breakdown temporarily. Wei Ying reminds herself that she can’t call Jiang Cheng or Yanli because they would immediately be reminded of her existence and also the fact that she wasn’t invited to their family thing, and then they would feel guilty, and then she would feel guilty.
“Wei Ying,” a voice says. Oh no. The only thing that could make this worse is running into someone she knows, especially Lan Zhan.
“Heeeeeeeeey, Lan Zhan, what’s up? Are you here for business or pleasure?”
They hold up a key ring with a set of newly cut keys on it. One of the keys has a bunny printed on the handle. It’s very cute.
In theory Wei Ying should feel more conflicted about Lan Zhan, her Enemy, swooping in and helping her get all the supplies she needs to fix her drywall. She should be annoyed that Lan Zhan explained what drywall is to her while they looked at spackle! They disagreed with her about the kind she wanted to get and made her get a different kind! And yet Wei Ying isn’t annoyed and in fact she thinks Lan Zhan smells kind of nice. It’s a weird discovery to make.
“I can help you place it, if you’d like. I have some tools in my trunk.”
Wei Ying may not have 100% adjusted to Helpful, Pleasant Lan Zhan, but she still says yes.
They agree to meet at Wei Ying’s apartment, and she pointedly does not speed home to clean it up before Lan Zhan can see it. Why would she try to impress them?
When Lan Zhan pulls up in their sensible hatchback, Wei Ying is just unlocking the front door.
“This is me,” Wei Ying says as they finish the last stair to her apartment door. “Mind the laundry.”
She expects Lan Zhan to say something judgemental but they just nod and ask to see the bathroom. Wei Ying is reasonably sure they are not possessed by a ghost or demon because if they were, the wards in her apartment would have gone off.
After they see the size of the bathroom, they essentially shoo Wei Ying out because it’s too small for two people in there anyway.
Wei Ying could go work on some more jewelry for the market this weekend. Or even continue developing her latest invention, a talisman that channels the right qi (yin or yang) for the wearer to help in their transition. It’s something that most trans cultivators are able to do for themselves, but it takes a fair amount of time. She’s in the most exciting phase of the process, and really should take some time to work on it, but somehow she gravitates to watch Lan Zhan carefully scrape spackle instead.
“I didn’t know you were a handyperson,” Wei Ying says, watching the muscles in their forearms flex.
“My mom insisted on fixing up our house when we were kids,” Lan Zhan explains, wiping the last of the spackle off the scraper thing. “I insisted on helping her.”
“How old were you?”
Lan Zhan seems very focused on tapping the lid back on the spackle. “Five.”
“Noooo, Lan Zhan, that’s adorable, you can’t let me know something so cute about you! Or else I’ll wanna be friends.”
They pause, a serious expression on their face. “Are we not?”
“Friends?” Wei Ying tenses in the middle of pulling out her ponytail. “Um, I mean the last few times we’ve met we just argued, so I assumed—”
“We were friends when we were children,” Lan Zhan says, as if that explains things.
“We—I mean I remember being kind of a dick to you, but if that’s what you thought, then yeah I guess? But c’mon, you didn’t even say you knew who I was when you bounced me at karaoke.”
Lan Zhan’s lips twitch downwards. “I was caught off guard. I didn’t know what to say. Also, you didn’t recognize me.”
“Would you have recognized me if you hadn’t literally stared at my government ID?”
“I’d recognize you anywhere, Wei Ying.” Their expression is no longer the fake seriousness Wei Ying has learned to recognize. Instead they look very earnest.
Things are quickly spiraling out of Wei Ying’s control, it seems.
“Uhhh well that’s cool, I guess? I mean I’m kind of faceblind anyway but I just never would have guessed that you’d have such a cool haircut, I mean not that you’re not cool—but also yes I guess you weren’t that cool when we were kids. I was also! Not cool, I mean. But yeah. I don’t know,” she finishes this word vomit with a cough as if that will save her. It won’t. Nothing will save Wei Ying from this embarrassing pit she has dug for herself and Lan Zhan. They live here permanently now; they have officially U-Hauled and moved in and this is their address for tax purposes.
“I didn’t mean to—I just wanted you to know. That I think we are friends.” Lan Zhan continues. They did not get the memo about how they are living in the embarrassment pit. They are trying to dig themselves out of the embarrassment pit.
“Right. Yes. Okay.” Wei Ying should just say they’re friends. She has called her local post office worker her friend before! She has a very low friend threshold! “Thank you?” She says instead, which is the conversational equivalent of setting fire to the escape ladder of the pit she now lives in.
“Anyway, I should—go,” Lan Zhan says, straightening up and grabbing their tools. “You will need to sand the spackle before you paint it once it is dried to the touch. Probably one or two hours, but it will say on the container.”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” Wei Ying mumbles, stepping aside to let Lan Zhan pass. She feels so wrong footed, all of a sudden.
“I am—glad I could help.” Lan Zhan isn’t looking at Wei Ying’s face, instead at their shoes in the hallway as they toe them on. “It was nice to see you.”
Oh god, Wei Ying has Feelings about this. “I don’t—I don’t think we’re friends,” Wei Ying blurts out, suddenly feeling like her apartment is too hot and stuffy to have this conversation. She’s sweating everywhere, damp spots sprouting up like little hot springs all over her body.
“I just mean—I haven’t thought of you as a friend. That’s not to say I can’t! It’s just weird, you know? I don’t know you that well, and—like. Our vibe. It’s very confrontational? You’re, um, really into arguing with me. And that’s not. How my friendships are, usually.”
“Oh. Right,” Lan Zhan says softly. They’ve been staring at Wei Ying’s hair (sweaty) over her shoulder, presumably so they don’t have to look at her face. Wei Ying thinks that’s fair.
“Not that you’re not great. Um.”
“Mm. Maybe I will see you around,” They say, but Wei Ying thinks that’s just a way to end the conversation and stop her from continuing to live her pit life.
“No,” Wei Ying starts, and Lan Zhan looks at her funny until she remembers what they last said. “I mean, wait. Have a cup of tea? To thank you for your help. Just because I don’t consider us friends doesn’t mean we can’t be.”
Lan Zhan doesn’t look convinced but they remove their shoes again willingly enough to come look at Wei Ying’s tea options. She has two. They were both gifts.
There’s an awkward silence as the water boils.
“Sooo how do you take your tea?”
“Black is fine.”
“So...you like me? As a friend?”
Lan Zhan huffs. “Is that so hard to believe?”
“I mean, kind of,” Wei Ying admits. “It’s pretty unusual.”
They frown. “You have lots of friends.”
“Sure, I guess, but not all of them like me.”
As Wei Ying looks at Lan Zhan she supposes she can see something there, a softness around the eyes, that she’s pretty sure is new. It’s odd to think of Lan Zhan looking at her fondly but it certainly seems like that’s what they’re doing.
“Even though I called you Saruman?”
Lan Zhan almost laughs.
“Wow. Even when I bugged you in Chinese school?”
Wei Ying notices once again the tips of Lan Zhan’s ears turning red. She’s starting to find it charming.
“I may have had a crush on you in Chinese school,” Lan Zhan admits in a quiet voice.
Wei Ying shrieks. “Me!! Oh my god that’s adorable Lan Zhan. You couldn’t have picked, like, one of the actually cute kids?”
They are determinedly looking at their teacup which Wei Ying finds extremely cute.
“I can’t believe anyone had a crush on me then; I was so awkward and pimply,” Wei Ying laughs. “You know, from the amount I bothered you, I probably liked you too.” She considers this. She doesn’t think back to her childhood a ton, so it’s mostly a blur. “If I did, I probably didn’t even know. But I remember thinking that your hair always looked so pretty when you had those little pigtail braids.”
She doesn’t know exactly when she decides to do it, but Wei Ying’s arm reaches out to tug the lock of Lan Zhan’s hair that has fallen in front of their ear. She means it as a joke at first, a teasing way to call back to their past selves, but something in Lan Zhan’s expression changes the movement to more of a caress.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying almost whispers. “Do you still like me?”
“It’s hard not to.”
Wei Ying feels hot all over again, and surprised by how much of a reaction she has.
“I’ve changed so much though,” she hears herself saying.
“Mn,” Lan Zhan responds, noncommittal, tilting their head into the palm of Wei Ying’s hand. They’re so calm. How can they be so calm? “Not in any way important.”
If it were someone else saying that, Wei Ying might be offended. She’s worked so hard to change so many parts of herself that she could easily see that comment as a dismissal of her effort, of her growth. But she must know what Lan Zhan means. She suspects she feels the same way.
Lan Zhan’s chin tilts in a way that beckons Wei Ying to kiss them, so she does, moving slowly enough that there’s plenty of time for them to move away. Instead they smile, and pull her closer, and their tongue tastes like tea and sweetness as they kiss. Their hands are warm and a consistent pressure, sliding over Wei Ying’s bare skin and clothes like they belong there.
“Are we friends now?” Lan Zhan asks, after a few more minutes of kissing, after Wei Ying has climbed into their lap and realized she loves the feeling of their hands on her hips.
Wei Ying makes a big show of squinting thoughtfully, squirming a little to make them gasp.
“I don’t know if I’d call this friendship,” she says, biting her lip at the way their eyelids flutter when she tugs on their hair. “But something like that, maybe.”
“I’ll take it,” they respond, brushing against her throat with their lips.