Work Text:
The town of Cloud Recesses (population: 256) is buried in the hills of Gusu. Once the home of a famous school of ascetics, it is now mostly farmland interspersed with the occasional homestead. It’s the kind of rural town where the people who live there have lived there forever and everyone is called ‘auntie’ and ‘uncle’ by anyone younger than them regardless of whether any blood relation exists.
The town centre is a single street, the nexus of which is an old brick building that simultaneously serves as the post office slash schoolhouse and still has an honest-to-goodness landline that people sometimes call when they want to get in touch with more than one person in town. (If they don’t want their conversation to be repeated line by line for anyone within shouting distance, they all have cellphones they use because this is the 21st century.)
There is a single grocer slash general store run by Lao Yao, who has been called Lao Yao since before he even got married and had children, and a single butcher, Uncle Nie, who is his eternal nemesis. Cloud Recesses is too small for a full-blown supermarket, so anything fancier than what can be grown or bought from the grocer or butcher has to be bought from Caiyi city, which is over an hour away by car. Only the occasional brave Taobao delivery person manages to find their way to Cloud Recesses.
They also don’t have a police presence, mostly because Lan Qiren has run the local watch for decades, just as his father did before him and his father’s father did before that. The watch is more for all-purpose help than for crime because Lan Qiren has also been the schoolmaster for decades and no one is stupid enough to break the rules, much less the law.
Depending on who you ask, Cloud Recesses is either the most boring place on earth (the butcher’s second son Nie Huaisang) or the most exciting place on earth (Lao Yao).
Lan Wangji grew up in Cloud Recesses, left briefly for university, before promptly moving home. His job as a writer and copy editor allows him to work remotely and after his stint in a city, he concluded that he much preferred the simplicity of his hometown. Despite what everyone who has ever met him claims (never to his face), Lan Wangji does not consider himself boring. It was more that he would rather be interesting by himself.
His move home had been extremely timely, as his uncle Lan Qiren had recently come down with a cold he had been having trouble shaking off. With Lan Xichen taking over Lan Qiren’s teaching duties, Lan Wangji had reluctantly taken over his uncle’s watch.
It hasn’t been too intrusive on his schedule, he thinks, with the exception of Lao Yao asking for his help moving some crates as a thinly veiled excuse to grill him for details on his university life. He performs his job diligently, makes fair if not impressive progress on his manuscript, and only has to rescue the occasional stray cat.
So he’s expecting a request for more manual labour or something equally benign when he receives yet another text message that says ‘SOS’ from Nie Huaisang, followed by ‘screaming from empty farm’.
Lan Wangji sighs and saves his document before getting up. With Nie Huaisang, 'SOS' can range from an escaped bird to severe injury and despite growing up alongside the other man, Lan Wangji is never sure which it is.
When he reaches the farm, he sees Luo Qingyang standing by the battered fence that surrounds the animal pen. As he approaches, he can hear faint cries of distress. She gives him a nod in greeting.
“Lan Wangji, you hear it too?”
He frowns and nods. They approach cautiously- animal attacks are not uncommon in Gusu, and the overgrown grasses in the abandoned plot of land could be hiding a snake or worse. When they finally make their way through the almost chest-high grasses, what they find is…well.
Luo Qingyang bursts into laughter when she realises that the ‘person shouting for help’ is in fact a very distressed goat bleating at the top of his lungs. Lan Wangji just stares, because the goat is alone and, aside from the screaming, seems to be in perfectly fine physical condition. He furrows his brow, trying to think of whose goat it might be. There are no markings or tags on the goat, and as far as he’s aware, no one in Cloud Recesses even owns a goat.
Beside him, Luo Qingyang has recovered slightly and is covering her face both in mortification and to cover the tears running down her cheeks. “How do we get it to stop screaming?” She manages to get out between hiccuping laughter.
Lan Wangji is at a loss of what to do, having never encountered goats of any type, screaming or not, but then makes the monumental error of trusting the internet, because when he googles ‘screaming goat’ all he gets is video after video of goats screaming at various things. Luo Qingyang unhelpfully doubles over in a fresh fit of laughter.
“Ah! There you are!” A voice calls out just as a man comes jogging out of the field. “Stop shouting, you silly goat!”
The man comes to a stop next to the goat, who has thankfully stopped yelling and is instead letting out sad bleats. The man winces as the goat headbutts him in the stomach, but gently pets him on the head until even the forlorn bleats peter out.
“Is this your goat?” Luo Qingyang asks.
“Ah yes! I’m so sorry about him. When I bought him from his previous owner, I didn't realise he would miss his friends," the man says. He beams at Luo Qingyang before turning his smile on Lan Wangji.
"I'm Wei Wuxian, I just moved here!" He says cheerfully, giving them a wave with his free hand.
Luo Qingyang dips her head in greeting before introducing herself. Lan Wangji, on the other hand, is still staring at Wei Wuxian.
Oh, he thinks, feeling somewhat wrongfooted, cute.
He's disturbed from his reverie when Luo Qingyang stomps none-too-subtly on his foot.
Lan Wangji coughs to hide his embarrassment. "Lan Wa-" he begins to say before correcting himself. "Lan Zhan."
Wei Wuxian blinks at him before The Smile returns. "Nice to meet you both! Do you want to come inside for some tea? You’re the first people I’ve met since I moved here and I could use some information about the area.”
Flustered, Lan Wangji is about to turn him down when Luo Qingyang interrupts him. “Yes, of course! We would love to, wouldn’t we, Lan Zhan?” She says with meaning, a shark-like smile on her face.
As Wei Wuxian leads them into the house, Luo Qingyang leans in toward Lan Wangji. "Hanguang-Jun," she mutters under her breath, "stop drooling."
Lan Wangji gives her an affronted look, but wipes surreptitiously at his cheek when she turns away from him.
The house is sparsely furnished but clean. Lan Wangji sees a shelf crammed full of books and various knick-knacks. There is a framed photograph leaning against a wall, of Wei Wuxian with his arms slung around a scowling man and a smiling woman. Unopened boxes stacked in the living room show signs of having been packed by different people, with neat handwriting on one box labelled ‘Kitchen’ listing the number of plates and bowls contained within, while another simply has the word ‘stuff’ scrawled on it.
He’s barely just met the man, but Lan Wangji feels like he already knows so much about Wei Wuxian.
As they wait for the water to boil, Wei Wuxian asks, “so are the two of you together?” He gestures between Lan Wangji and Luo Qingyang.
Luo Qingyang gives him a sly look. “I’m not Lan Wangji’s type,” she snickers, “you know- tall, pretty, cheerful, ma-”
“No.” Lan Wangji cuts in. “We are not.” He gives her a glare, which she ignores because she’s been immune to his resting bitch face for years.
“Actually, I don’t live here, I’m just visiting a friend in the area,” Luo Qingyang lies. “Lan Wangji is really the person you should be talking to, so I’m going to go, bye!” She grins at both of them before waltzing out the door.
Wei Wuxian watches her go with a raised eyebrow. “Wow, she’s really not subtle, is she?”
Lan Wangji shakes his head mutely. Wei Wuxian leans over the tabletop, eyes gleaming. “So what is your type, Lan Zhan?”
Lan Wangji feels his face warm, but he gamely meets the other man’s eyes. “Shameless, apparently,” he mutters.
Wei Wuxian’s smile grows impossibly wider.