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Jiang Cheng is gearing himself up to fail at asking Wen Qing out for the thousandth time when she gets a phone call.

He watches her face go from almost relaxed to not relaxed at all, and tries to piece together what’s going on from the one side of the conversation that he can hear.

There’s a kid, for sure. And Wen Qing is his closest living relative.

Maybe.

One of the options for custody, anyway.

Jiang Cheng tries to remember everything Wen Qing has ever said about her family. Minus anything she’s said about her brother.

It’s not much.

“Hey, can I have a rain check?” Wen Qing says, when she finally hangs up.

Jiang Cheng should bow out gracefully. It’s not the time to ask her out and this time it isn’t even his fault. He should give Wen Qing space to figure this out, get out of her way.

But he already knows how it’s going to go. Wen Qing is going to decide to take her cousin in, because he’s family and you always have to choose family. And then she’s going to keep choosing family. Over herself, over her friends, over Jiang Cheng.

It’s her choice, and Jiang Cheng should let her make it.

He should say goodbye.

“We should get married,” he says, instead.

Wait.

What?

“Wait, what?” Wen Qing says.

“We should—you…you’re in medical school,” Jiang Cheng says, scrambling to present an argument he hasn’t even thought of yet.

Wei Ying would be so much better at this.

“I graduated three years ago,” Wen Qing says. “I’m in residency.”

Shit.

He literally went to her graduation. Brought her flowers and had some dumb plan to ask if she would consider dating now that she was done with school. But there was always someone else right fucking there and she was already excitedly talking about how she wasn’t even going to have time to sleep with her new schedule.

Or, you know, he’s a coward. Very possibly that.

“Whatever. Your schedule is insane and you’re going to need help. I can help.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You literally didn’t.”

“Jiang Cheng,” Wen Qing says, pulling out her big sister voice.

(He hates it when she uses that voice, specifically when she uses it on him. She’s not That much older and she’s certainly not his sister.)

“It—I—you would be helping me too,” Jiang Cheng says.

Still scrambling, but landing on the one argument that might work. Wen Qing hates owing people, but a mutually beneficial partnership she might agree to.

“You have a burning desire to become a father overnight?” Wen Qing says. “Feeling lonely in that apartment of yours?”

(Yes, actually. He hates living alone.)

“Mom can’t send me on arranged dates if I’m married,” Jiang Cheng says.

Wen Qing smirks.

She’s saved him from one or two of these set-ups when they’ve gone extra wrong, and heard him complain about the others extensively. They always start by telling him how his mother is an inspiration, and it goes downhill from there.

Mom’s qualifications for who would make a good date for Jiang Cheng seems to begin with the potential date’s opinion of Madame Yu herself, and end with what beneficial connections they can bring to the family company.

“Poor baby,” Wen Qing says. “Beautiful women think they might want to marry you.”

“They don’t,” Jiang Cheng says. “They just want to be related to my mother.”

“How do you know that if you won’t talk to them?” Wen Qing says.

“I…try,” Jiang Cheng says.

Kind of. But when he can do both sides of the conversation by himself, he can’t bring himself to see the point. And they never look him in the eye.

Anyway. If they want to be married to him doesn’t really matter if he doesn’t want to be married to them. In Jiang Cheng’s opinion.

“Hmm,” Wen Qing says, sounding doubtful.

And distracted.

Like she’s loosing interest in the idea.

Jiang Cheng is just going to have to take the fact that Wen Qing hasn’t strictly said no and run with it. He reaches across the table and takes her hand, sandwiching it between both of his own. He fully expects her to pull away, she’s just not really a physical contact type of person, in Jiang Cheng’s experience.

She doesn’t pull away. She (maybe) even holds on.

“Wen Qing, please,” Jiang Cheng says. “Can we save a lot of time and effort and just help each other out?”

Wen Qing considers him for what feels like an eternity.

“Okay,” she says. “Let’s do it.”

Wen Qing should have stuck to her rules. The moment Jiang Cheng grabbed her hand and looked at her all earnest her brain had completely blue-screened.

Pathetic.

Worse: she’d practically been begging for it. She should have stepped away as soon as she knew the phone call was serious, but instead she’d stayed at the table with Jiang Cheng so he could overhear. So he could…do something about it when she was done getting her world thrown sideways.

In her defense, she’d thought that he would offer a hug when she was on the way out, not ask for a mutually beneficial fake marriage.

(That he was proposing a fake marriage became fully evident once they started talking details, Wen Qing doesn’t think she let it slip that she’d be fully open to a real marriage, so her dignity has narrowly remained intact. Small miracles.)

For being one of the most important decisions you make in your life, it is shockingly easy to get married. Within the week, Wen Qing has a ring on her finger, a certificate to file, and a new address.

Where they’re going to live is the one detail they don’t even have to talk about. Wen Qing sublets a room in a house that is a hefty commute away from the hospital where she works; Jiang Cheng owns his own apartment a short walk from both his family company and the hospital where Wen Qing works.

She should have moved in last year, she doesn’t know what she was thinking.

(She wasn’t thinking. She was too busy being blindsided by Wen Ning and Wei Ying announcing that they’d made an independence pact and were moving out of their respective sibling’s apartments, leaving her approximately five seconds to find an alternative living situation.)

The only slight hiccup is that the apartment is a two bedroom. Perfect for two platonic roommates, or a married couple with one kid. Less perfect for when you’re married in name only and one of the bedrooms is legally required to be given to the child in order for social services to sign off.

Luckily, Jiang Cheng is a ridiculous person. He has one of those oversized beds that looks like two beds pushed together and has to get custom made sheets. So like. Whatever. If they sleep on different sides of the bed they’re essentially sleeping on different beds, just in the same room.

She’s just not going to think about it.

Wen Qing is a medical resident. She can sleep anywhere, including standing up and while walking. She regularly ends up sleeping in rooms with other hospital staff that she doesn’t know. There’s no reason that sharing a room with someone who is arguably her best friend should be awkward.

Just because whenever she looks at him she’s tempted to bite him.

She’s never given into the urge before, there’s no reason to think that she will now. Wen Qing is known for her self control.

Jiang Cheng less so, but she told him that she wasn’t open to dating while in school when he asked out back when he was a freshman, and here they are, neither of them in school, and he continues not to ask her out. So like. He’s just no longer interested.

Good.

It’s so much easier to just be friends anyway. Who is Wen Qing going to text when she has a joke that’s too mean to say to anyone else if she’s trying to impress Jiang Cheng?

(Wei Ying, but Wei Ying only responds sporadically and Jiang Cheng will immediately laugh, which is what Wen Qing is looking for when she bothers to text.)

After Wen Qing drags all of her earthly belongings into Jiang Cheng’s bedroom and dumps all of her clothes into the drawers Jiang Cheng had cleared for her, she goes out to the living room where Jiang Cheng is trying very hard to act like he’s not hovering. They settle on opposite ends of the couch and play a stressful version of twenty questions that’s actually just making twenty decisions as quickly as possible.

Wen Qing has been in-touch with Granny (as she insists on being called), the woman who is currently taking care of a-Yuan, Wen Qing’s cousin turned child, multiple times over the past week. Among other things, Granny has provided them with photos of a-Yuan’s room and the current state of his furniture. Wen Qing recognizes the brand and the fact that it’s been disassembled and put back together multiple times. She doubts it will survive another round.

Jiang Cheng has mostly left Wei Ying’s room empty since Wei Ying moved out, so they make some measurements and order child-sized furniture for overnight delivery and pretend that they’ll definitely have time to build it all before a-Yuan is dropped off on their (metaphorical) doorstep.

Next, they have to figure out their story. Since they are maybe, technically, defrauding the government, and absolutely trying to defraud Jiang Cheng’s mother, they need a timeline.

They settle on moving from friends to dating about a year ago, while commiserating about being abandoned by their siblings. That they hadn’t made a big deal out of it because Wen Qing’s work schedule took priority and things were…delicate with Wen Ning. That they’d started talking about marriage anyway, and had just decided to move it up a little bit for all of the reasons that they really did get married.

Jiang Cheng seems to particularly relish using his mother’s increasing pressure to marry someone with advantageous connections for the company as a reason for getting married sooner rather than later.

Ever since Wen Ning moved out last year, he’s been traveling, giving a convenient excuse for not inviting anyone to the ceremony. If Wen Qing’s most important person couldn’t make it, Jiang Cheng could opt not to invite his most important people out of solidarity.

They order dinner to celebrate their new status and put their heads together to draft an acceptable announcement. After pressing send to the relevant parties, they turn on a movie to try and distract themselves from the lack of response.

Wen Qing inches closer to Jiang Cheng on the couch and tentatively rests her head against his shoulder. He and Wei Ying always seem to exist in a pile so Wen Qing knows that Jiang Cheng is capable of being cuddly. She has doubts about herself.

“We need to look convincing,” she says.

“Sure,” he says, shifting a little under her, “For all of the people present and judging.”

“Fuck all the way off,” she says, digging her knuckle in between his ribs until he jumps, and then retreating to the far end of the couch.

He grabs at her feet and pulls her back towards him. She clings to the armrest and he gives up, settling her feet in his lap while keeping a wary hold on them in case she decides that she’s not done retaliating.

“What are you doing?” she says.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says.

She tries to tug her feet out of his grasp and he tightens his hold.

“What?” Jiang Cheng says. “You’re right, we should practice being in each other’s space.”

She considers that for a moment and Jiang Cheng digs his thumbs into the arch of one foot in a way that makes her completely collapse.

Mom always used to give Dad foot massages when he got home from work. Baby Wen Qing would insist on being involved and Mom would talk her through all the acupressure points. Jiang Cheng’s hands on her feet triggers a sudden wave of feeling like she’s home and safe and cared for that takes her completely by surprise and she finds herself blinking back tears.

Shit.

She’d forgotten about that.

Wen Qing closes her eyes and swallows, trying to convince herself that her reaction is all really just because she spends a lot of time on her feet and not even the most supportive shoes can counteract all of it.

“That is what you meant, right?” Jiang Cheng says, hands stilling.

“Don’t stop,” she says.

He makes an amused sound and his hands start moving again. She turns her face towards the tv like she’s watching the movie even though she keeps her eyes closed.

Wei Ying is just minding his own business, having a perfectly normal night at home, when he gets the most unhinged addition to the sibling group chat he’s ever seen.

Scratch that.

Wei Ying is just minding his own business, happily bothering Lan Zhan, when he gets added to a Brand Fucking New sibling group chat, one including Wen Qing and Wen Ning, and the text thread starts with the most unhinged announcement Wei Ying has ever seen.

He texts Wen Ning and Yanli separately, in quick succession. Wen Ning doesn’t answer either the group chat or Wei Ying’s private messages (typical). Yanli ignores the group chat, but tells Wei Ying that she doesn’t know anything that he doesn’t.

So, like, Wen Ning is probably some place without service.

That’s happened a lot the last year. He’d moved out of his apartment with Wen Qing and into a van that had been retrofitted for camping. He’ll go completely off the grid for weeks at a time. Wei Ying’s text thread with Wen Ning is full of some of the most unreal pictures. He seems to be working his way across the country, one national park at a time.

Yanli is genuinely upset. Yanli’s go-to when she’s mad at you is the silent treatment, until you can corner her into seeing you in person (whereupon you are forgiven for everything forever).

Which means that it’s up to Wei Ying to get more info. As the sibling representative.

“Does this say what I think it does?” Wei Ying says, holding his phone out towards Lan Zhan.

Lan Zhan frowns and leans closer.

“Mn,” he says. “If what you think it says is that your brother got married.”

“Without me?” Wei Ying says.

“Mn.”

“To my friend, Wen Qing?”

“They are also friends,” Lan Zhan says.

“They’re also friends in the same way that you and Jiang Cheng are also friends,” Wei Ying says. “Aren’t they?”

“I would never marry Jiang Cheng,” Lan Zhan says.

“Exactly!” Wei Ying says.

“So. Evidently not,” Lan Zhan says.

Wei Ying huffs. Zooms in on the photo accompanying the announcement. Jiang Cheng has an arm around Wen Qing, and they’re both holding the supposed wedding certificate. It looks awkward as hell. Then again, Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing both freeze up in front of cameras in the weirdest way. So that proves nothing.

“I’m going over there,” Wei Ying says, standing up.

Lan Zhan glances over at the clock and frowns.

“It’s not that late, grandpa,” Wei Ying says.

“Would you like me to come with you?” Lan Zhan says.

Which is sweet, but even though it really isn’t that late, Lan Zhan is a precious sleepy baby any time it’s after dark and who knows how long this is going to take.

“Nah,” Wei Ying says. “Don’t you have that early meeting tomorrow?”

Lan Zhan nods slowly and, after a beat, Wei Ying nods back. They work at rival companies so they aren’t supposed to share any actual details about their work. Lan Zhan takes that embargo very seriously.

“So…don’t wait up,” Wei Ying says.

“I’ll leave my phone on,” Lan Zhan says.

“Oh, god, don’t do that,” Wei Ying says. “I’ll forget and text you a whole essay about something unrelated at three am and completely ruin everything.”

“I’ll leave my phone on,” Lan Zhan says, again.

Wei Ying has to smile. Lan Zhan really is the most wildly supportive roommate. Wei Ying doesn’t know what he did to deserve him. He’s felt a bit guilty about it, truth be told, being so happy about his living arrangements while Jiang Cheng was so not about his own.

Apparently that was a lie.

(It was not a lie. Wei Ying knows his brother, he knows when Jiang Cheng is unhappy, no matter how much he tried to hide it.)

((Jiang Cheng is alarmingly bad at hiding it for a businessman.))

When Wei Ying gets to Jiang Cheng’s apartment he lets himself in with the key he kept “in case of emergency” when he moved out. Because catching your brother in a really weird lie surely counts as an emergency.

He finds them in the living room, watching a movie.

Well.

Jiang Cheng is watching a movie. Wen Qing is passed the fuck out with her feet in Jiang Cheng’s lap.

“What the fuck?” Wei Ying says, pointing at Wen Qing.

“What do you mean, what the fuck?” Jiang Cheng says. “We live here? What the fuck, you?”

Wen Qing wakes up the same way she always did in college, where one minute she’s dead asleep and then the next she’s fully awake. She sits up, looking between Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying with a frown.

“What?” Wen Qing says.

“What, the everlasting, fuck?” Wei Ying says to her.

“What did I tell you about just letting yourself in whenever you feel like it?” Jiang Cheng says.

“The man who just announced via text message that he got married without the family does not get to claim superiority on manners,” Wei Ying says.

“Didn’t you read the full message?” Wen Qing says. “There were extenuating circumstances.”

“And you didn’t need any witnesses for your fake marriage?” Wei Ying says. “I would have taken off work.”

“You have to put in vacation time in advance,” Jiang Cheng says, completely ignoring the fake marriage comment.

Ha.

Caught him. It’s too easy sometimes.

“So it is a fake marriage!” Wei Ying says.

“Yes, it’s fake,” Wen Qing says, using finger quotes around the word fake. “As explained, in the text message. We got married to deal with some logistical issues with adopting my cousin.”

“But why Jiang Cheng?” Wei Ying says.

The victory feels hollow with Wen Qing’s complete lack of reaction to being caught and Wei Ying feels wrong-footed.

“Well, I’m not going to fake marry someone else when my boyfriend is right there,” Wen Qing says.

Wait.

“But you weren’t dating,” Wei Ying says.

“Says who?” Wen Qing says. “You?”

“You’re always complaining about being single!” Wei Ying says, abandoning Wen Qing in favor of focusing on Jiang Cheng.

Wen Qing is inscrutable, but Wei Ying knows Jiang Cheng better than Jiang Cheng knows himself. With Jiang Cheng, Wei Ying is on solid ground.

“I do not!” Jiang Cheng says, jumping up from the couch.

“Yes, you do! You’re convinced you’re going to die alone! That’s why you let Mom bully you into all of those arranged dates!”

Wen Qing gets up and pulls at Jiang Cheng’s arm so she can slide in between them.

“Rude,” she says to Wei Ying, but not in the laughing way she normally does.

She frowns at Wei Ying before fully turning her back on him, reaching up to frame Jiang Cheng’s face with her hands.

“I’m sorry I asked you to keep secrets,” she says to Jiang Cheng. “But I won’t let you die alone, I promise.”

“If you could phrase that in a way that sounds less like you’re planning on us both dying imminently, that’d be great,” Jiang Cheng says.

There’s a weird moment of eye contact that Wei Ying can’t quite figure out, and then they’re kissing. And now, for the first time tonight, Wei Ying feels like he’s intruding. Possibly for the first time ever with Jiang Cheng.

Not since he’d first gotten adopted at least. That first week was brutal.

When they break apart Wei Ying pretends that he was looking at the ceiling.

“I have to get up early,” Wen Qing says.

“I know,” Jiang Cheng says, before Wei Ying can. “He’s not a guest, go to bed.”

Wen Qing pats Jiang Cheng twice on the chest and he kisses her on the nose before she steps away from him.

“I’m sorry,” she says, to Wei Ying, before disappearing into Jiang Cheng’s room.

Her room. Apparently.

She doesn’t say what she’s sorry about. Or what she’d asked Jiang Cheng to keep secret.

“Not a guest?” Wei Ying says, instead of asking for clarification.

Never, in his life, does he remember feeling this awkward with Jiang Cheng, not even the first week.

“Of course you aren’t a guest,” Jiang Cheng says, pushing Wei Ying towards the door. “You’re fucking family. Now go away.”

Once Wei Ying had left last night, Wen Qing had continued her reign as the queen of sleeping in any situation and Jiang Cheng knows this for sure because he was the exact opposite even though it was his bed. He’s not used to actually sleeping with company and he doesn’t think he likes it.

He might need to buy a new couch, one that is more conducive to being slept on, because he envisions a lot of falling asleep in front of the tv in his future. Like, so much. Forever.

Jiang Cheng muddles through his day and tries to figure out if he’s glad that Mom hasn’t brought up the marriage yet, or offended. She’s the type of person to leave read receipts on so that you know she’s not responding to you on purpose. He knows she’s seen it, he just doesn’t know if she’s taking it seriously.

Or if she’s taking it too seriously.

He should probably warn Wen Qing not to sign anything if any of the lawyers show up with papers.

Dad also hasn’t responded, but Dad doesn’t have much use for his phone ever since he almost ran the company into the ground back when Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying were in high school and Mom forcibly suggested an early retirement. Now that Jiang Cheng thinks of it, he isn’t even sure if Dad knows how to text.

Dad plays a lot of golf now. Maybe Jiang Cheng should have contacted his caddy.

It’s an hour after Jiang Cheng normally leaves when he decides to call it a day. When he looks up, he finds Wei Ying standing in the doorway. Frowning at him like Jiang Cheng is a problem to be solved.

Jiang Cheng gets the feeling that he’s going to have to get used to this. Once Wei Ying gets it into his head that he needs to fix something, it can be impossible to convince him to let go.

Wei Ying wants to go out but Jiang Cheng refuses, so Wei Ying ends up following him home. Jiang Cheng had kind of been counting on it. All of a-Yuan’s new furniture had been delivered and he’s going to need help getting it from the front desk up to the apartment, not to mention assembling it.

“They’re really just going to like, give you a kid?” Wei Ying says, halfway through assembling the bed.

“They’re giving him to Wen Qing, but yeah, basically,” Jiang Cheng says.

He frowns at the pieces he keeps counting over and over. There’s too many, which must mean that they missed something at some point, but Jiang Cheng is damned if he’s going to deconstruct what they’ve managed to get together so far in order to figure it out.

“What’s hers is yours, supposedly,” Wei Ying says.

Jiang Cheng barely bothers to roll his eyes at that. He’s going to give himself a headache if he acknowledges every single hit Wei Ying tries to make.

They finish the bed and move on to the dresser, which came in so many pieces that Jiang Cheng doesn’t think it should count as buying furniture.

“You know Yanli’s pissed, right?” Wei Ying says, when they’re on the floor taking a break from dropping tiny pieces of metal that make zero fucking sense as part of a dresser.

“I did notice that she never responded,” Jiang Cheng says.

Technically, no one had ever responded to their announcement. Their joint sibling group chat is just the announcement and photo.

Wei Ying had obviously come over to investigate in person.

Wen Qing hasn’t wanted to talk about Wen Ning since he moved out last year. Jiang Cheng had been a bit preoccupied with his own brother at the time so he hadn’t gotten details then, and he’s been too nervous to ask for details since. So who the fuck knows what is going on with him.

Unlike Mom, Yanli doesn’t leave read receipts on. You have to piece it together that she’s ignoring you by checking to see that she’s still posting on social media or asking someone that she isn’t mad at to text and see if she’ll respond to them.

“I think she’s more hurt than mad,” Wei Ying says.

Like Jiang Cheng couldn’t figure that out for himself.

“Great,” Jiang Cheng says. “That doesn’t change anything. So sorry my marriage isn’t about you.”

“It has to be at least a little bit about us,” Wei Ying says.

“It really doesn’t,” Jiang Cheng says.

When Wei Ying gets drunk he loves to talk about how Jiang Cheng’s one true motivation for anything he does is family. Which isn’t untrue, even if it sounds vaguely insulting (and incredibly boring) the way that Wei Ying says it. But by getting married, Wen Qing is now (legally) Jiang Cheng’s family.

So.

By Wei Ying’s own logic, Jiang Cheng’s choices have just opened up by a lot.

“Hmm,” Wei Ying says.

Jiang Cheng is saved from defending that thought from Wei Ying when Wen Qing comes home with a pizza and wings that she sets down on the floor between Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying like an offering. She swears that she already ate at work, so while they eat, Wen Qing finds the directions and builds the dresser in about ten minutes flat.

“You’re the most impressive person I’ve ever met,” Jiang Cheng says, taking advantage of Wei Ying’s presence to give Wen Qing a compliment that’s a little too sincere to say to just a friend.

Too sincere for a friend that you’re hiding feelings from, at least. Not when your brand is generally sarcastic and grumpy.

Wen Qing smiles that tight little smile that she uses when she doesn’t know how to respond to something and starts unboxing the bookshelf. Which she also manages to build before they finish eating, due in a large part to the way that Wei Ying keeps protesting that he’s plenty impressive.

“I don’t care,” Jiang Cheng tells Wei Ying.

“I’ve made the company millions,” Wei Ying says. “And you’re impressed because she can use an allen key?”

“You have a team,” Jiang Cheng says. “And you couldn’t build the dresser either.”

“I would have built a streamlined dresser,” Wei Ying insists. “At least half of those pieces are superfluous.”

“It would have fallen apart, or pinched his fingers,” Jiang Cheng says.

It’s a novel experience, being one hundred percent certain that he’s on the correct side, opposing Wei Ying. Number one, best side effect of being married to Wen Qing: Victory at last.

“You have no proof of that,” Wei Ying says.

“And we never will,” Wen Qing says, from where she’s finishing up the child sized table and chair set.

(Things may have gotten a little out of hand when they were ordering things yesterday. Everything had looked vital.)

“Let me rebuild it,” Wei Ying says, holding out a hand.

“No,” Wen Qing says, serenely.

She loves to just not react when Wei Ying is being ridiculous. Jiang Cheng wishes he were capable of the same trick, but he’ll settle for doing it by proxy.

“Just, let me—“ Wei Ying says.

“It wouldn’t matter,” Wen Qing says, glancing over at Jiang Cheng quickly, his only warning that she’s about to go rogue. “I’ll always win because Jiang Cheng thinks I’m hot.”

Wei Ying huffs.

“You’ll have to get old eventually,” Wei Ying says.

Wen Qing flutters her eyelashes at Jiang Cheng and he almost forgets to respond. Which should probably count as making her point, right there.

“You’ll always be beautiful,” Jiang Cheng says, a beat too slow and, again, too sincerely.

Wen Qing looks away. Wei Ying mimes throwing up.

“What happened to bros before hoes?” Wei Ying says.

“I’ve never said that, in my life,” Jiang Cheng says.

He’s probably said that. But teenagers are stupid and at some point, you should be able to lock everything dumb you said in a box and not have it used against you. Kids without siblings get all the luck.

“Gold-digger, please,” Wen Qing says, settling next to Jiang Cheng on the floor.

Wei Ying’s mouth drops and he blinks at Wen Qing like he hadn’t even considered that as an option, even though it would be the first thing that Jiang Cheng assumed if Wei Ying showed up married to a random someone.

Wen Qing glances over at Jiang Cheng and grins and all Jiang Cheng can do is smile back. He doesn’t even care if it’s stupidly obvious that he’s in love with her, they have an audience so it’s allowed.

Encouraged, even.

Wei Ying throws his bag dramatically on the floor when he gets home, and then immediately picks it up and puts it on its spot on the bench, where Lan Zhan will inevitably put it if he finds it on the floor.

Lan Zhan pads out of the living room, drawn by the sounds of destruction. He’s wearing the bunny slippers that Xichen got him for his birthday last year. Wei Ying had thought they were a joke, but Lan Zhan no longer admits to owning any other slippers.

“Still married?” Lan Zhan says.

“I guess,” Wei Ying says.

He still doesn’t get it. He’d invaded Jiang Cheng’s bedroom before he’d left, to try and find evidence of his faltering theory of a fake marriage.

In the approximately ten seconds he’d had to go through things before Jiang Cheng threw himself through the door, Wei Ying had had the time to go through most of the drawers in the dresser (if you start at the bottom and work your way up you don’t have to waste time closing things to access the next set, speedy but it does leave behind more evidence).

“I swear to god, if you go through Wen Qing’s underwear drawer—“ Jiang Cheng had said.

“Who’s going through my what, now?” Wen Qing had said, from the hall.

Wei Ying had reversed course, not opening the final drawer, but actually taking a moment to fully process what he was seeing in the current drawer.

“Flannel?” he’d said, pointing to the offending pajama pants in the drawer in front of him. “Jiang Cheng would never sleep next to flannel!”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you, because that’s Jiang Cheng’s drawer, and Jiang Cheng’s pajamas,” Wen Qing had said.

“What?”

Wen Qing had come over to the dresser and held up the offending pajama pants against herself. They were clearly too big. She folded them, put them away, and pushed the drawers back in, taking a brief break to shake a pair of sweatpants in Wei Ying’s face.

Presumably her own pajamas.

Wei Ying had turned to Jiang Cheng for confirmation. Jiang Cheng had shrugged.

“They’re cozy,” Jiang Cheng had said.

So. Wei Ying doesn’t actually know every single fact about Jiang Cheng. That’s…that’s fine. That’s kind of the entire fucking point of no longer living together. Being able to grow without getting in each other’s way.

Whatever.

The reasons for moving out had really been more Wen Ning’s thing. He’d said that he needed accountability in order to make sure he actually did it. The Wen siblings were so co-dependent that Wei Ying had originally thought it was a joke and then he felt like he couldn’t back out.

(Does this mean that Wei Ying moved out on accident? Yes. Does he regret it? Not really. Not at all, except for when he’s worried about Jiang Cheng. Which had been less and less until this current bout of insanity.)

“That’s Jiang Cheng’s side of the bed!” Wei Ying had said, when Wen Qing decided she was bored of the conversation and sat down.

“Go home, Wei Ying,” she’d said, rolling her eyes.

“Did you eat?” Lan Zhan asks, snapping Wei Ying out of his reverie.

Good. He doesn’t need to relive getting kicked out of his brother’s apartment, his own other home, for the second time in as many days.

“Yeah,” Wei Ying says.

“Mn,” Lan Zhan says, the corners of his mouth turning down, just a little. Maybe.

Maybe it’s wishful thinking. Yanli always shows her love with food, which makes Wei Ying want to read into the practice with everyone else. He desperately wants Lan Zhan to want to feed him.

“Tea?” Wei Ying asks.

He doesn’t even like tea, not really. Not the way that Lan Zhan makes it. But he likes watching Lan Zhan go through the ritual of it all. Wants to feel taken care of, like something precious.

Lan Zhan only uses the full tea set for people he likes.

Jiang Cheng always gets given a mug.

Lan Zhan dips his head and leads the way to the kitchen. Wei Ying sits down in his chair, then decides that that’s too far away from the action. He hops up on the counter next to their electric kettle. Lan Zhan tsks, but doesn’t do anything more than look disapproving.

“You were so far away,” Wei Ying says. “I missed you.”

Lan Zhan has spent so long not believing anything that Wei Ying says that Wei Ying is actually free to say the unvarnished truth without worrying about making things weird. He hunches over so he can push his head into Lan Zhan’s shoulder and Lan Zhan allows it until the water gets to whatever temperature he was waiting for.

Wei Ying must be doing a shittier job of hiding how upset he is, if Lan Zhan is allowing prolonged contact like that. Fuck.

Soon, Lan Zhan knocks Wei Ying’s knee, signaling him to jump off of the counter and go back to the table, where Lan Zhan serves them both.

“Why can’t they really be married?” Lan Zhan says, when he sits down.

Wei Ying blinks at him. Lan Zhan rarely shows an interest in Jiang Cheng’s life; Wei Ying had been fully ready to move on to a different topic.

“I just—they’ve been friends for all that time and suddenly they have feelings?” Wei Ying says. “I don’t believe it. It’s too convenient.”

“Convenient to whom?” Lan Zhan says.

“The universe?” Wei Ying says. “I don’t know. There’s just something weird about it. I don’t like things that are weird.”

“False,” Lan Zhan says.

“I don’t like not understanding things,” Wei Ying says.

Lan Zhan concedes the point.

“Maybe they liked each other for a long time,” Lan Zhan says. “Maybe they were both too nervous about ruining their friendship to risk asking.”

“Now you’re just making things up,” Wei Ying says.

“I’m giving you conceivable scenarios for this so-called impossible situation,” Lan Zhan says.

“Go write a romance novel, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says.

Lan Zhan pours a second cup and sips calmly at his tea, but Wei Ying can read the signs. Lan Zhan is embarrassed, potentially feeling rebuffed. Wei Ying sighs.

“Wen Qing and Jiang Cheng?” Wei Ying says. “Really?”

Wei Ying loves his brother. His favorite person is a three-way tie between Lan Zhan, Yanli, and Jiang Cheng. Jiang Cheng is stupidly loyal, stupidly goofy when he gets out of his own head, and stupidly responsible for the well-being of everyone who has ever walked within a five foot radius of a Jiang corp building.

Jiang Cheng is also emotionally fragile, and sulky, and requires more babying that Wei Ying can imagine Wen Qing being willing to entertain. And that’s all on a good day.

“I can think of stranger couples,” Lan Zhan says, with a weird twist to his mouth, one that says he won’t be elaborating. “Let them be in love.”

“Can you tell the stranger couple to call me?” Wei Ying asks. “I want to compare notes.”

Lan Zhan refreshes Wei Ying’s cup of tea instead.

Like getting married, Wen Qing finds it entirely too easy for her to be handed her cousin’s kid.

This is at least in part because as soon as Wen Qing and Jiang Cheng had gotten married, he’d contacted the company lawyers, who had subcontracted some non-corporate lawyers, and now Wen Qing has people “handling it”. So there is a good deal of Wen Qing being handed paperwork to sign and being told what to do when.

But still.

They don’t know her.

They don’t know that she’s selfish enough to deny her friend a chance at a real marriage just because she wants him and that her justification is the fact that he gave her the means to do so.

Not that any of that has strictly anything to do with her suitability for raising a child, or at the very least keeping him out of harms way. But she does think it shows her character in a less than flattering light.

She swears to be the best fake wife she can be to make up for it.

“You’re not my parents,” a-Yuan had said, when he’d first been ushered inside of the apartment.

He’d frowned up at the social worker like he’d been lied to, and the social worker had beamed back down at him, like they were presenting a gift. Wen Qing got the feeling that this was a very new social worker.

“They’re your New parents,” the social worker had said.

“No,” a-Yuan had said.

“No,” Jiang Cheng had agreed. “We’re your new guardians. Which is kind of like parents because we’ll be taking care of you. But maybe not…the same. Thing.”

While the fact that Wei Ying is adopted has come up over the years, the fact that Jiang Cheng has an adopted brother has not. Wen Qing could just see them struggle-bussing their way through this same conversation as kids.

A-Yuan’s face had cleared as he processed that, working it’s way around to almost excited.

“Do you have super powers?” he’d asked.

“Do…guardians of the galaxy have super powers?” Jiang Cheng had asked, making the connection faster than Wen Qing had.

“Mom says i”m too little to watch,” a-Yuan had said, and then gone off to list a bunch of things that one of his friends maybe said about different Marvel movies because he wasn’t allowed to watch them but he would get the rundown at pre-school.

A not terribly accurate sounding rundown, but comics have a million versions anyway, right?

Whatever. Wen Qing cannot be bothered to care about superhero storylines, not even when she’s watching the movies herself. Luckily, everyone has stopped being so insistent about trying to make her in recent years.

Sharing his suspect superhero knowledge had kept a-Yuan occupied for the rest of the time that the social worker had been there, Jiang Cheng nodding along to a-Yuan so that Wen Qing could focus on adult matters.

Now that there’s nothing else for them to be paying attention to, a-Yuan seems to be done with paying attention to them. He’s started pulling out all the toys that had been deemed important enough to pack with him instead of getting shipped over at a later date, as more of Jiang Cheng’s “people” deal with a-Yuan’s parent’s belongings.

(By Jiang Cheng’s people, Wen Qing fully means the movers who Jiang Cheng has hired to pack things as directed by Granny, who is making all the decisions.)

“Is four old enough to leave in a room on his own?” Jiang Cheng says, eventually.

After what is probably far too much time standing in the doorway to a-Yuan’s room.

“Yeah?” Wen Qing says, and they back slowly away.

All the parenting advice Wen Qing has managed to find in the past week has suggested that the feeling of independence and trust is important for small child development, so hovering is probably the worst thing they could do.

They sit on the couch, a little awkward and stiff, like they need to be ready to jump up at a moment’s notice. Incredibly, having a-Yuan here feels like a routine has been interrupted, even though there isn’t any routine to be interrupted.

“What do you do when you’re not working?” Wen Qing asks, only half joking.

In recent memory, if Wen Qing isn’t at work, or on her way to/from work, or at an event where her presence was specifically requested, she’s been asleep. Maybe eating. Occasionally working her way through chores while half asleep.

She must have done something else sometime, but Wen Qing can’t remember it. Once Wen Ning had gone off adventuring, she had shut down a bit. Which had been made that much worse by signing a lease for the first free room she found instead of looking for one in an area that was in any way convenient for her life. She’d spent the next year too tired to fix it.

“Fuck if I know,” Jiang Cheng says.

She pushes him, as much as you can when you’re both sitting on the couch, and doesn’t try to continue the conversation. He checks his watch, turns on a rerun of something, and holds out his hand.

They’d agreed the other night that they should continue practicing being in each other’s space when convenient. Wei Ying will probably continue to show up unannounced and little kids are snitches. They need to present the same way to a-Yuan as they do to everyone else.

Aside from everything she’s actually discussed with Jiang Cheng, Wen Qing needs to practice letting go of him. Practice not holding on so tight that he feels like he can’t breathe.

Someday he’s going to want a divorce and she’s going to have to be okay with that. Ideally, this will be because he’s found someone he wants to build a full life with, not because she’s made his life so miserable he just wants to get away.

Despite being cursed with cold hands, the minute Wen Qing takes Jiang Cheng’s hand she feels sweaty and gross. Clammy, like some sort of reptile. Gross.

Jiang Cheng’s hand, of course, is perfect. He probably got nervous sweating trained out of him as a child. Not that he’d need to deploy that here since there’s no reason for him to be nervous or self conscious. As far as Jiang Cheng is concerned, they’re just two platonic pals platonically helping each other out.

He hadn’t even seemed thrown by the kiss the other night, just waved it off when Wen Qing had apologized about crossing boundaries they hadn’t talked about yet.

Ugh.

She’s almost looking forward to how hectic work is going to be, making up for all of this unplanned time off (her co-workers were very kind of pulling together to cover for her, but that just makes it more imperative that she pay them back with all due haste).

Wen Qing’s angst over holding her husband’s hand gets cut short when a-Yuan peeps out from around the corner.

“Hey?” Wen Qing says. “What’s up?”

A-Yuan’s gaze is focused on the tv.

“Bluey?” he asks.

“Uh…” Jiang Cheng says. “Do we have screen rules?”

“Five hours a day,” a-Yuan says.

“Five?” Jiang Cheng says.

“Two,” a-Yuan says.

“Are you sure it’s not half an hour?” Wen Qing says.

She’s absolutely certain it’s half an hour because she’d recorded her conversations with Granny And taken notes. Although she thinks there’s a dispensation for if he picks a movie to watch. Maybe special occasions?

Whatever.

The point is, it’s not five hours. Which is probably going to be harder to enforce that Wen Qing wants to admit if they’re including whatever Wen Qing and Jiang Cheng watch if a-Yuan is also in the room. Wen Qing and Jiang Cheng both subscribe to the tv as background noise for meals, which is going to get tricky.

Maybe news doesn’t count?

Granny had already suggested scheduling a call for after a-Yuan got here, Wen Qing makes a mental note to ask.

A-Yuan sighs, sounding like a full grown teenager.

“Two episodes,” he suggests.

Jiang Cheng pulls up an episode and they discover that two episodes should take less than half an hour.

“Deal,” Jiang Cheng says, holding out a hand.

A-Yuan shakes it and then climbs up onto the couch between Wen Qing and Jiang Cheng, effectively breaking off their hand holding practice. Jiang Cheng hooks his ankle around Wen Qing’s ankle.

It’s a wildly uncomfortable way to sit while leaving enough space between them for a wiggly four year old. They only last half of the first episode before Jiang Cheng unhooks their ankles, and instead, stretches an arm along the back of the couch to mess with her hair.

“The Wei Ying of it all,” she says, and Jiang Cheng scowls so deeply at her that she almost apologizes.

But that would be silly. The entire point is that they’re friends. Pointing out that Jiang Cheng is acting like another one of their mutual friends is not an insult.

It’s not.

Wei Ying is just getting ready for bed when he gets an honest to god phone call from Wen Ning. Which like, he’s happy to accept. He just hadn’t realized that they were quite that level of friend. It’s not like they’ve ever done phone calls before.

They are kinda family now, though, Wei Ying supposes.

“Hi, brother-in-law,” Wei Ying says.

There’s a moment of silence, like Wen Ning hadn’t actually checked any of his texts before calling Wei Ying and therefore, had no idea what Wei Ying was talking about.

“I’m not sure that’s how that works,” Wen Ning says.

“Well, I am sure that that’s how that works,” Wei Ying says.

“That’s not how that works either,” Wen Ning says, laughing.

“Oh, my sweet summer child,” Wei Ying says. “Wrong again.”

He grins even though it’s just a voice call because Yanli always insists that people can tell when you’re smiling at them, even if they can’t see it. He thinks it’s true. He can feel Wen Ning smiling back at him.

Briefly.

“So, like, has Wen Qing given you any details?” Wei Ying says. “Because Jiang Cheng is being uncharacteristically tight-lipped about the whole damn thing.”

“Well. Wen Qing kinda stopped talking to me after I moved out,” Wen Ning says. “So, no. I was wondering if you could fill me in on the details.”

“Uh…” Wei Ying says. “I mean…what I know is basically what was in the group chat…”

None of that computes. If there’s one thing that Wei Ying can say unequivocally about Wen Qing, it’s that she loves her brother, and she doesn’t play games about it the way that Yanli does. Wen Qing doesn’t have the time to play games about anything.

Which is a reluctant point in favor of the marriage not being fake, if Wei Ying is willing to follow logic.

“Define kinda stopped talking to you?” Wei Ying says.

“She just…she texts me once a week, at the same time like she has an alarm set for it, to make sure I’m not dead, and other than that, nothing,” Wen Ning says.

“Hmm,” Wei Ying says.

Wei Ying wouldn’t define that quite as Not talking…

When he’d been chatting with Yanli earlier, complaining about Jiang Cheng marrying His friend, Yanli had said something about Wen Qing and Jiang Cheng being very similar people. Which he had scoffed at, of course, because they’re not and Yanli’s analysis of Wen Qing is based on surface level party stuff, not actual friendship. But if they were—

When Wei Ying moved out, Jiang Cheng had taken Wei Ying wanting (slightly) less to do with Jiang Cheng to mean that he was completely done with Jiang Cheng. He had taken Wei Ying asserting some independence as wanting Jiang Cheng out of his life.

It was pretty easy to counteract that. Wei Ying demanded to eat lunch together and invited himself over to hang out and kept up a never-ending barrage of memes via every messaging service they both had accounts under. It had taken like, a week, to reassure Jiang Cheng that they were still brothers and friends.

But if Wen Qing had taken Wen Ning moving out the same way that Jiang Cheng had taken Wei Ying moving out, and then Wen Ning had promptly left the city instead of hovering around being a pest to re-insinuate himself into Wen Qing’s life…well.

Maybe.

It bears investigation, at the very least.

Wei Ying adds it to the list.

“Well. Their story is that we’re all idiots for not noticing that they’ve been dating, and now they’re playing house with your cousin. Wen Yuan, I think?” Wei Ying says.

Wen Ning hums an agreement.

“I can’t believe they think we didn’t notice,” Wen Ning says.

“Wait,” Wei Ying says. “You knew?”

“I mean, I didn’t know that they’d started dating like, officially,” Wen Ning says. “But they were both obviously interested in each other.”

“I beg your pardon,” Wei Ying says.

Wen Ning laughs, sounding utterly delighted at being the one imparting information.

“Your brother is the least subtle person on the planet,” Wen Ning says. “He’s been sniffing around my sister since college.”

“That was college!” Wei Ying protests.

“He came to her med school graduation!” Wen Ning says.

“So did I!” Wei Ying says.

“You invited yourself,” Wen Ning says.

“Okay, but—“ Wei Ying says.

“The only person Wen Qing makes any kind of effort with is Jiang Cheng,” Wen Ning says. “The rest of us have to chase her, but she makes herself available if she thinks he might be there.”

“She’d be there if you asked her to,” Wei Ying says.

“Maybe,” Wen Ning says.

“She would,” Wei Ying says. “She misses you, maybe she’s waiting for you to reach out.”

Wen Ning sighs. He doesn’t seem to have anything else to say to that and Wei Ying doesn’t feel like he can either. Wei Ying doesn’t actually know the facts here.

“So. Where are you now, anyway?” Wei Ying asks.

Wen Ning gives the name of a national park clear on the other side of the country and the more questions that Wei Ying asks, the more voluble his answers become. Like he’d gotten used to keeping conversation just barely surface level. Like no one has genuinely asked about him in all the time that he’s been gone.

Wei Ying gets into bed but doesn’t bother turning the lights off. He’s going to stay on this phone call as long as Wen Ning seems interested in talking. He should have asked more questions about why Wen Ning felt like he needed independence in the first place, back before they’d moved out.

This feels like it’s at least partially on Wei Ying, for not seeing that there was a deeper problem than wanting a little space.

Well. He’s listening now.

He’s going to figure this out.

They have a weekend of trying to figure shit out together, and then Wen Qing has to go back to work so Jiang Cheng is more or less thrown into the deep end on his own.

It is…more than he had been expecting, keeping a kid fed and entertained and clean. He hadn’t quite registered how many hours a day Wen Qing has to spend at the hospital even though that had been one of his arguments for why they should get married.

She’s gone by the time Jiang Cheng used to get up to go to the gym (no longer possible with his tiny new shadow) and best case scenario, she’s home in time to help get a-Yuan ready for bed.

She says it’s not always this bad. She had to call in favors to get the time off to get married and move and get a-Yuan settled, and some of those favors area already coming due. But it really makes Jiang Cheng worry about the state of the medical system in this country.

Like. The situation with insurance and whatever is obviously terrible, but he really doesn’t think that the people who are cutting other people open should be working eighty hour weeks. No one should be working eighty hour weeks, but at least everyone else Jiang Cheng knows who pulls that shit is doing a desk job. It’s just fucking paperwork that someone else will also be going over. No one’s literal life is on the line.

Anyway.

Jiang Cheng spends the week trying to build a routine.

Trying to set times for getting up and eating and leaving. Building in time to double-check the million food rules for what he sends to daycare with a-Yuan and remembering that a-Yuan literally cannot walk as fast as Jiang Cheng. Doing playtime and screen time and story time, building up to the bedtime that Wen Qing likes to take care of since she’s not here for anything else.

Jiang Cheng tries to use a-Yuan’s screen time as time to get things packed for the next morning, but he thinks he’s getting invested in this stupid Australian dog. So he keeps finding himself sitting down to watch with a-Yuan.

He goes to bed late and gets up early, trying to make up for the work he’s not doing at work in order to pick a-Yuan up on time and tries not to think about how this isn’t temporary. This is just his life now.

Someday he’s going to have to chat with other parents at pick-up/drop-off whatever. A-Yuan already has a little cohort of friends that he runs around with and name drops at home. Jiang Cheng should arrange like…playdates.

Enrichment or some shit, for the weekends.

He’s just so fucking tired.

He’ll add it to the to-do list for next week.

Maybe the week after.

To tell the truth, Jiang Cheng doesn’t manage to build much that first week. It feels more like a vaguely controlled fall. The only thing that absolutely happens every day is that a-Yuan doesn’t last the whole night in his own bed.

Every night, a-Yuan wakes up from nightmares he can’t remember and he won’t settle enough to go back to sleep unless someone is with him. If it’s early, they try to keep him in his own room. Jiang Cheng has read through more than one report sitting on the floor in a-Yuan’s room, tablet in one hand, other hand patting a-Yuan’s back.

But the nightmares are constant and if they throw a-Yuan into the middle of their bed, he goes back to sleep faster. And by faster, Jiang Cheng means that instead of one of them going into a-Yuan’s room and convincing him that it’s still sleep time, a-Yuan will flail around until he finds one of them and go back to sleep on his own.

Jiang Cheng isn’t sure it’s a great long-term fix, but neither he nor Wen Qing have had the time to try and research alternative plans. There is a child psychologist that the social worker had recommended, who might have some ideas, but that would require finding the time to make an appointment and actually keep it, and of course the only appointment times are during business hours.

And, not for nothing, having a sleepover every night has made the whole sleeping-in-the-same-bed-as-the-woman-he’s-hopelessly-in-love-with a whole lot less fraught. Even if they both wanted something to happen, nothing Could happen, which is apparently the reassurance Jiang Cheng needs to actually sleep at night.

(Nothing would happen anyway because Wen Qing isn’t interested, and even if she were, she only averages like five hours of sleep a night as is. But whatever. Now Jiang Cheng feels like nothing he does could be misconstrued as inappropriate interest that might make Wen Qing uncomfortable.)

((Or maybe he’s just getting used to it.))

(((Maybe he’s just exhausted.)))

Doesn’t matter.

The point is, Jiang Cheng did this to himself, but that doesn’t make him any less tired or overwhelmed.

The icing on the fucking cake happens Friday night, when Wen Qing had actually made it home in time for dinner. Which just so happened to be the one meal that week where a-Yuan decided that he had food preferences.

Jiang Cheng and a-Yuan had gotten into a fight over eating the food given and now Wen Qing thinks that Jiang Cheng is a shit caretaker who regularly yells at a-Yuan and needs to be reminded that a four year-old isn’t his enemy.

Like, even if Jiang Cheng doesn’t think he should be anyone’s first choice for child care, he’s also 100% certain that a-Yuan isn’t afraid of him. That has to count for something.

Anyway. When Jiang Cheng and a-Yuan wake up on Saturday with Wen Qing already gone to work and no daycare get out of jail free card for the day, Jiang Cheng decides that it’s time for a visit to Yanli.

Her continued silence indicates that she’s still mad, and the only way to combat that is to see her in person. Yanli can’t hold a grudge in person to save her life. Even if she could, a-Yuan is adorable.

Jiang Cheng texts Yanli before setting up a-Yuan’s booster seat in the back of his car, giving her plenty of notice. She never responds and he’s halfway worried that he’s going to have to come up with another reason for them having gotten in the car, but her car is in her driveway when they get there.

“Oh,” Yanli says, when she answers the door.

She stares down at a-Yuan like she hadn’t been given any fucking warning. Like she hadn’t been categorically refusing to interact with the information that she has a sister-in-law and a kind of nephew now for over a week. Like she doesn’t realize that using the silence treatment on her brothers is tantamount to an imperial summons.

A-Yuan throws his head back so he can look straight up at Jiang Cheng, his version of asking what the fuck he’s supposed to do with something. Jiang Cheng shrugs back down at him.

“Meet a-Yuan,” Jiang Cheng says to Yanli. “A-Yuan, this is my sister, Yanli.”

A-Yuan grabs onto Jiang Cheng’s knees.

“Oh,” Yanli says, again, gently sinking down to the floor so she’s more on a-Yuan’s level. “It’s so lovely to meet you. Would you like to come inside?”

A-Yuan shakes his head and twists his fingers tighter into Jiang Cheng’s jeans, but he doesn’t fight when Yanli moves out of the way and Jiang Cheng shuffles them both inside.

They end up in the kitchen because the heart of Yanli’s home is always the kitchen. When she and Zixuan had gotten engaged they’d purchased a monstrosity of a McMansion in the suburbs, and remodeled it so that the kitchen is easily the biggest room in the house.

Half of the space is for food prep and the other half is for just existing. There’s a table for eating to one side, and circle of soft couches and chairs for talking on the other, and french doors in the center opening out onto the patio and backyard.

Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying have a bet running on how long it’s going to take before Zixuan puts in a pool.

A-Yuan is being extra clingy, so it takes Yanli a record ten minutes to make friends with him. Once she pulls together some homemade play dough it’s all over. A-Yuan is hers for life.

After play dough they go outside and make bubbles, so a-Yuan has something to chase around the yard while they can stay relatively stationary, and then Yanli pulls together three completely different meals out of what she has on hand in the refrigerator, and then it’s time for a-Yuan’s nap.

Technically, a-Yuan doesn’t have a nap time. He has quiet time. Both Granny and the pre-school say that he seems fine without sleeping in the afternoon. Today he conks out almost as soon as Jiang Cheng had gotten him set up on the couch.

“So,” Yanli says, when Jiang Cheng comes back over.

“I’m sorry I didn’t given you more warning,” Jiang Cheng says.

“More warning? You didn’t give us any warning,” Yanli says. “One day you’re convinced you’re going to die alone, the next you’re telling us you got married and we weren’t invited.”

“I never—not the point,” Jiang Cheng says.

He’s never been worried about dying alone. He doesn’t know where Wei Ying and Yanli keep getting that. Jiang Cheng’s worse case scenario has always been being married to someone where there’s no respect, living around someone instead of with them.

“It didn’t feel fair for me to have people at the wedding when Wen Qing couldn’t,” he says, falling back on the prepared answer.

“Have you told Mom and Dad yet?” Yanli says.

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng says.

“And?”

“And…they want to meet her,” Jiang Cheng says, admitting something that he hasn’t even brought up with Wen Qing yet.

He’s been trying to come up with a reason to refuse since Mom’s secretary forwarded a list of dates.

Wen Qing’s schedule is insane. Maybe that’s enough for now.

Like, it’s obvious, that they’re going to have to meet at some point. Just not yet. His whole thing with Wen Qing feels so fragile, so delicate. One hint of adversity from his side and she might decide that it actually would be easier to just do it on her own and not have to deal with his shit.

“That should be a good thing,” Yanli says. “Why are you acting like that isn’t a good thing?”

“We didn’t sign a pre-nup,” Jiang Cheng admits.

He hadn’t even thought of it until after, and even though he’s sure that Wen Qing would, he’s absolutely certain that Mom already knows that there isn’t one. Now it feels like signing one late would be weird and could somehow tip Mom off to the marriage being fake.

He’s probably making a big deal out of nothing. He always does that. He gets stressed and focuses on the wrong fucking thing. And now he can’t even tell his normal support about it because he’d agreed with Wen Qing not to.

Once one person figures it out, everyone will. Which would suck for him both personally and professionally because Mom, and would suck for Wen Qing because that seems like the kind of lie that would put social services on red alert.

Great plan, Jiang Cheng. Offer to help, and by doing so, bring a whole lot of new shit into the chat that will ultimately make things harder.

He’s fucking everything up.

“Jiang Cheng,” Yanli says, in her most scolding tone.

She’s a fiscal conservative at heart. It’s all follow your dreams, until it could rebound on the company in some way, and then she acts like you’re trying to burn it all down for the hell of it.

She doesn’t even work for them anymore.

“You know, you could act like it isn’t a given that my marriage will end in divorce,” Jiang Cheng says.

“Of course you won’t get divorced,” Yanli says, biting her lip, clearly thinking of all the ways it could go wrong if he does.

Jiang Cheng wishes he could reassure her. If (when) he and Wen Qing get divorced, she won’t be taking anything out on the company. He almost wishes she would. Wishes that she felt anything for him with the kind of intensity that could be turned on him.

He’s pretty sure that if he betrayed Wen Qing, it wouldn’t register as something worthy of revenge, on her part. She would just walk away. Just be out of his life.

Gone.

Well.

He’s not going to give her a reason to do that.

So.

Jiang Cheng gives himself a mental shake and frowns more deeply at Yanli.

“Wow. Much convinced,” he says.

There’s a tiny flicker where if Yanli was a bit more like Jiang Cheng, she would be rolling her eyes. They have a bit of a stand-off, but Yanli wins because she always does and they move on.

Half an hour later, she sends him to answer the door because her hands are all gross with something she’s so sure that a-Yuan is going to love for his post-nap snack. And, as it turns out, she’d texted Wei Ying, so she’d known that it wouldn’t matter if Jiang Cheng was the one to open the door.

“Seriously?” Jiang Cheng says, when they get back to the kitchen.

Yanli shushes him.

“Not everything is about you,” Yanli says.

“Oh my god!” Wei Ying says.

“What is wrong with you?” Jiang Cheng says, motioning over at the sleeping a-Yuan.

“Either you’re getting divorced,” Wei Ying says, eyeing Yanli speculatively. “Or…”

“Shut up,” Yanli says.

“Or?” Jiang Cheng says.

“Or I’m saving you by distracting Mom and Dad,” Yanli says.

“Because…” Jiang Cheng says, even though he has an idea.

He just doesn’t want to put the idea out there in case it isn’t true. There’s nothing to be disappointed by if he never says it. Next to Jiang Cheng, Wei Ying covers his mouth and starts bouncing.

No sense of decorum. Or self-preservation.

“I’m pregnant!” Yanli says.

“I knew it!” Wei Ying shouts.

And the inevitable happens where a-Yuan startles awake. He flails his way off of the couch and then makes a beeline for Jiang Cheng. Luckily he hits at an angle that doesn’t send them both toppling over.

“What did you think happened?” Jiang Cheng says, as he picks a-Yuan up.

That’s what he seems to want, when he starts clinging to Jiang Cheng’s knees like this. And sure enough, as soon as Jiang Cheng gets a-Yuan high enough, a-Yuan pushes his face into Jiang Cheng’s shoulder and clamps his legs around Jiang Cheng’s side as hard as fucking possible.

Which, like, isn’t particularly hard, given his size. But it’s harder than Jiang Cheng had been expecting.

Jiang Cheng rubs circles onto a-Yuan’s back, where he swears he can feel a-Yuan’s heartbeat, like a panicked little rabbit. Yanli tries to offer a snack, but that just makes a-Yuan cling harder. So instead of snack time, Jiang Cheng walks a-Yuan around the kitchen and promises not to put him down again until he wants to be put down.

Slowly, a-Yuan relaxes, possibly even falling back asleep.

“What?” Jiang Cheng says, when he gets back to Yanli and Wei Ying, only to find them staring at him in disbelief.

“Nothing,” Yanli says, looking thoughtful.

“You’re never nice to Anyone,” Wei Ying says.

“I’m nice to lots of people,” Jiang Cheng says.

“Okay, but your ‘being nice’ is still kind of mean by everyone else’s standards,” Wei Ying says.

“Fuck you,” Jiang Cheng says, and then has to take a break to check and see if a-Yuan is actually asleep, or awake enough to absorb that.

He’s been so careful not to swear around a-Yuan, it would fucking figure.

It’s probably fine.

Wei Ying motions at Jiang Cheng like he thinks that Jiang Cheng just made his argument for him.

“Alright, so what’s your big secret then?” Jiang Cheng says.

Winning an argument with Wei Ying always gets fucking athletic and Jiang Cheng is holding a sleeping kid. Better to just move past it.

“What?” Wei Ying says, going for confused and landing somewhere more like defensive.

“I got married, Yanli’s pregnant. What are you hiding?” Jiang Cheng says.

“I’m in love with Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, crumpling down to lean on the kitchen island.

Which is…not even close to a fucking secret, but Wei Ying has taken the bait to go talk about his favorite topic instead of interrogate Jiang Cheng about his marriage. So.

Small victories.

“Ridiculous,” Jiang Cheng says, like starting this conversation wasn’t the entire point.

Yanli rubs Wei Ying’s back the same way that Jiang Cheng has been rubbing a-Yuan’s, and makes cooing sounds. She loves a romantic drama, and is always more than ready to sit through Wei Ying’s delusions.

Jiang Cheng settles on a nearby stool and lets the familiar patter wash over him, pretending that his life hasn’t changed that much. That, if nothing else, he still has this. And that’s what matters.

Lan Zhan is preparing dinner when Wei Ying gets home and it’s such a perfect slice of normalcy after Wei Ying’s siblings were doing their level best to make everything weird that Wei Ying wants to cry.

Like, they’re not even bad changes. Gaining little playmates is great. It’s just that it’s starting to feel like every time Wei Ying turns around something major is changing. He wants to be a part of all of it and isn’t sure he has the resources to do so.

Wei Ying stands in the doorway to the kitchen, watching Lan Zhan make neat, careful moves with a knife, until Lan Zhan tilts his head, a silent question as to what the fuck is wrong with Wei Ying today.

Lan Zhan has made that move a lot over the years. Wei Ying loves it because it means that Lan Zhan is noticing him back, even if it’s not in the most flattering light.

“Do you ever think about how, like, everyone around you keeps meeting these adult milestones and you’re just kinda bopping along living your life, getting left behind?” Wei Ying says.

“No,” Lan Zhan says.

Wei Ying has to laugh.

Of course Lan Zhan doesn’t. Lan Zhan is the most self assured person Wei Ying has ever met. Lan Zhan is an adult with his own apartment that he just happens to be letting Wei Ying stay in, and he does things like cook full meals containing vegetables on the regular.

“Yanli’s having a baby,” Wei Ying says, not waiting for Lan Zhan to ask the question. “And Jiang Cheng already has one, apparently…”

“Do…you want a baby?” Lan Zhan asks.

“Not really,” Wei Ying says. “It’s stressful enough keeping me alive. I’m not sure I could cope with keeping a baby alive.”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan says.

Noncommittal. Just letting Wei Ying know he’s listening.

Wei Ying twists his hands in his pockets. Sometimes the whole work-at-home-is-forbidden thing is really inconvenient. He wishes he had something to do with his hands. He needs to learn how to crochet or something for instances like this.

“You know how society makes you think there’s one path to success? I think it’s just that,” Wei Ying says. “Like, what’s the point if I’m not passing it on to the next generation?”

Lan Zhan does something a little extra flashy with the knife, and Wei Ying drifts a little closer, the better to watch. He always gets drawn in by Lan Zhan’s knife work, to the point that he would accuse Lan Zhan of finding extra things to chop if he thought that Lan Zhan was interested in extra attention.

“This is the point,” Lan Zhan says, eventually.

“Making dinner?” Wei Ying says.

“Living your life in a way you enjoy,” Lan Zhan says.

Lan Zhan moves over, ever so gently hip-checking Wei Ying, before going back to his vegetables. He carefully moves everything from the cutting board and into the pan on the stove.

It’s all so deliberate. How the rest of the world isn’t obsessed with Lan Zhan, Wei Ying will never understand.

Wei Ying sidles over so he’s right next to Lan Zhan, close enough to lean his shoulder against Lan Zhan’s now that Lan Zhan is stirring rather than chopping. Lan Zhan leans back and Wei Ying feels some of his nervous energy settle.

“How is Jiang Cheng facing fatherhood?” Lan Zhan says, allowing Wei Ying to duck the existential conversation. Kind of.

Wei Ying considers. He’d been good, actually. Tired; just fully embracing the sleepless parent role. But other than that. Jiang Cheng is really good at pulling together in the face of adversity. It’s when he doesn’t have anything real to worry about that he spins out of control.

“He’s a natural, it’s weird,” Wei Ying says. “Like, where are all these people skills when you’re working with clients, right?”

That’s not fair. Wei Ying has never actually been involved in those types of meetings and he can’t think of a single time that Jiang Cheng lost a client through sheer unfriendliness. It just feels like the kind of thing Jiang Cheng would do with the way he’s always worried about it.

“Mn,” Lan Zhan says, loosing interest in the conversation.

Jiang Cheng as Wei Ying’s brother, Lan Zhan will occasionally condescend to be interested in. Jiang Cheng as heir to a rival company, not so much. Wei Ying is pretty sure it should be the opposite, but Lan Zhan lacks the killer instinct when it comes to winning capitalism.

Wei Ying sighs and drops his head down on Lan Zhan’s shoulder, clasping his hands around Lan Zhan’s bicep to make up for the fact that Lan Zhan can’t do much to reciprocate at the moment, what with dinner on the line.

Thus fortified, Wei Ying prods at the part of his brain that hates everything that’s been happening.

Back when Wei Ying moved out, Jiang Cheng had flipped shit and Wei Ying had congratulated himself on being the perfectly well adjusted one. Now that Jiang Cheng isn’t staying where Wei Ying left him, Wei Ying has a lot more sympathy with Jiang Cheng’s behavior last year.

Wei Ying knows that he won’t walk away and just never come back, when he’s the one doing the leaving. His belief in the opposite is…less strong. And how is he supposed to know where to come back to, if Jiang Cheng and Yanli keep moving?

“I just don’t want us to drift, you know?” Wei Ying says.

“You aren’t drifting,” Lan Zhan says. “I won’t let you.”

Which hadn’t been what Wei Ying had meant. He knows he’s not drifting from Lan Zhan. He wants to make sure he’s not drifting from the people he doesn’t see every day.

It’s a comforting statement, all the same.

Wei Ying takes an extra long lunch break in order to make it line up with Wen Qing’s.

“I met your cousin,” he says, when Wen Qing finally sits down at his table in the hospital cafeteria.

“I heard,” she says.

If Jiang Cheng is starting to look worn down around the edges, Wen Qing is looking more put together than Wei Ying has seen her in ages.

“Well, aren’t you bright-eyed and bushy tailed,” Wei Ying says.

Wen Qing narrows her eyes at him, trying to figure out if that was an insult or not.

“Positively glowing,” Wei Ying says, slowly.

Any openness on Wen Qing’s face gets abruptly shut down.

“I’m not pregnant,” she says.

“Just checking,” Wei Ying says.

It had never been the best of working theories. Wen Qing would never get shotgun married over an unplanned pregnancy, even if Jiang Cheng absolutely would. Wen Qing probably wouldn’t even stay unplanned pregnant. Still. Wei Ying is nothing if not diligent.

He feels vaguely disappointed. Like, yes, he would be proven fucking wrong once and for all if Wen Qing and Jiang Cheng were proven to have been sleeping together, but Lan Zhan would be so happy.

“You have to admit, it makes more sense than whatever this is,” Wei Ying says.

“Riddle me this, Wei Ying,” Wen Qing says. “Why are you so convinced that you’re the only one who can see good things about your brother?”

Wei Ying feels himself blink too many times.

Fuck it.

He’s probably never going to understand it, and he can live with that. As long as Wen Qing and Jiang Cheng say they’re happy and are one each other’s side, Wei Ying washes his hands of it. He’s done trying to meddle.

With that.

“I was talking to Wen Ning…” he says.

Wen Qing freezes.

“And?” she says.

Nonchalant in a way that you only ever are when you’re trying very hard to seem nonchalant.

Son of a bitch, Yanli was right.

For fuck’s sake. Even if Wei Ying has to accept that he’s been approaching this wrong, two spiky people who just shut down and walk away at the first hint of rejection, of supposed rejection, even, do not a happy marriage make.

Ugh.

He’s going to be meddling for the rest of their collective lives.

“He seems to be under the impression that you’re not talking to him,” Wei Ying says.

He’s all out of finesse. Sibling-in-laws are exhausting, even the ones he likes.

Maybe especially the ones he likes. He never lost sleep about Zixuan’s emotional well-being.

Wen Qing’s mouth actually drops open.

“I’m not—? I text him every week. He’s the one who can’t be bothered,” she says.

Wei Ying shrugs.

“Yeah, it seemed weird,” he says. “Anyway, he’s doing great, but he misses you. I think he misses here too. Maybe I just caught him at a bad time.”

“You think he’s having a bad time?” Wen Qing asks, frowning.

“No, but I think I always have a better time when I don’t think that Yanli or Jiang Cheng are mad at me for having it,” Wei Ying says.

Wen Qing chews on her straw while she thinks about that, and Wei Ying mentally pats himself on the back for managing to be the emotionally mature one. He thinks he’s actually the emotionally mature one most of the time, but sometimes that involves playing the fool, so it’s not so easily demonstrated.

He can’t wait to brag to Yanli.

Once upon a time, Wen Ning had come to Wen Qing for help, and she hadn’t been able to understand what help he was asking for.

She hadn’t understood what he meant when he said he was tired when all he did at home was sleep, and she hadn’t understood why he would come home from a perfectly normal shift and just start crying.

With hindsight, she can recognize it was burnout.

Like so many other aspects of their lives, Wen Qing had dragged Wen Ning along behind her, convinced that what was best for her was also best for him. In her defense, up until that point, she had been right. So into the medical field he had gone, a nurse instead of a surgeon.

Even though Wen Ning is younger, he started working first since the schooling requirements are so much less. When going through his options, they decided that the end goal should be trauma nurse, because then his days shouldn’t get monotonous.

It started out great. Everyone loved the weird kid who took his job so seriously and didn’t complain about the night shift and was always willing to go the extra mile.

And then he kept going the extra mile.

And kept going the extra mile.

Every time he told Wen Qing he didn’t think he could keep it up, she’d given him a pep talk and sent him on his way. Sent him back to the wolves where he had set unrealistic expectations for himself, where he was treated with a hell of a lot less respect than she was by nature of his job title, where he was entirely too empathetic to deal with the constant barrage of the worst days of people’s lives.

She kept telling him that he just needed to push through, forgetting that while she was still paying her dues to reach her dream, he was already at his end goal. There was nothing for him to outlast. This was his life and he didn’t want it.

One night, when Wen Qing wasn’t working, Wen Ning had asked her to watch a movie with him. It was the most excited Wen Qing could remember seeing him in recent memory and her thinking that ‘Nomadland’ was sad instead of inspiring was the last straw.

When he told her that that was what he wanted to do, go live in a van and get away from people for a while, she’d called it childish. She’d said that he was running away from his problems instead of dealing with them.

He’d called her a robot, said that she didn’t understand because she didn’t care about her patients as long as she could cut them open in new and interesting ways.

They’d both said a lot of things that night, none of which were things that she stands by a year out. She couldn’t say that Wen Ning didn’t mean the things he’d said. Some of them still sting in the way that true things do and he hasn’t talked to her since, outside of logistics.

As it turned out, the moving out thing wasn’t actually up for discussion. He’d already bought a van, already handed in his notice, already told the fucking landlord he wouldn’t be signing on for a new lease. And Wen Qing had somehow missed all of it.

The only sign she’s had that he’s not completely done with her is that he hasn’t unshared his location with her on his phone and he does respond to her weekly check-ins. She tries to keep it at the same time each week so that he knows when to be somewhere with service so she doesn’t panic.

She’s still not actually sure what she’ll do if some week he just doesn’t answer. Call the cops and tell them that her brother, a full-grown adult who lives in a van with no permanent address, and doesn’t talk to her, went missing somewhere within a few hundred miles of the last time his cellphone pinged a tower? She’ll be lucky if they just laugh at her.

A week after Wen Qing had the worst fight of her life with Wen Ning, Wen Ning packed up all of his belongings that he hadn’t donated and drove away from her with only the sketchiest of plans.

She’s not sure she came up for air until Jiang Cheng grabbed her hand and dragged her back up on land.

It’s been a few weeks of their little family experiment and Wen Qing is finally not working on a Saturday.

She’d made big plans for this day off. Not too many. She wanted to go with the flow, but also not just stay home. She wanted to take a-Yuan to the park, and maybe out to lunch, and to that bookstore she’d noticed the other day when she’d changed her route to work.

And she and a-Yuan were going to do it all on their own so Jiang Cheng can do…something. Alone. Without a-Yuan following him around like a little duckling.

Then, when it was time to leave, a-Yuan seemed absolutely floored by the suggestion that they leave without Jiang Cheng. Jiang Cheng is a-Yuan’s caretaker, Wen Qing is just some bitch who lives here.

Jiang Cheng is who a-Yuan goes to for permission, who needs to be constantly updated on stories about people whose names Wen Qing doesn’t recognize, who’s hand a-Yuan needs to hold to get safely across the street.

Jiang Cheng hadn’t fought it, he’d just sighed and then pulled on his shoes to follow them out the door.

He’d looked happy enough throughout the day, asking a-Yuan follow-up questions about his meandering stories and never brushing him off or asking for a break. But Wen Qing’s worried that it was an act. She’s worried that Jiang Cheng is suffering in silence until the moment when he stops deciding that it’s worth it.

She’s afraid that she’s doing to Jiang Cheng what she did to Wen Ning, just taking what she wants without even asking, pushing him to act in her best interest without any consideration for his wants or needs.

Surely, this can’t be what he had in mind when he agreed to this? It’s certainly more than Wen Qing had been anticipating and she’s not even there for most of it.

Wen Qing sits sideways on what she has begun to consider “her” cushion on the couch and stares at her husband, trying to read his mind. They’d settled in the living room after putting a-Yuan to bed and Jiang Cheng had turned the tv on, but he’s not watching it.

Instead, he’s staring up at the ceiling looking like he’s waiting for death to come collect.

Bad sign.

Very, very bad sign.

“Hey,” she says.

Nothing.

She inches closer, until she’s mostly on the center cushion and slowly starts digging her toes into the cushion under Jiang Cheng. He continues to not react, so she pokes him in the face. It’s a relief when he finally side-eyes her.

“Can I help you?” he says.

“Can I help you?” she says, stressing the words in the exact opposite way than he had.

“With what?”

“You seem…” Wen Qing doesn’t know how to finish that sentence without saying something insulting. Or telling him that she thinks he would be better off without her.

“My parents want to meet you,” he says, eventually.

It’s so not what she was expecting to come out of his mouth even though, when she thinks about, she can’t believe that it’s taken this long. Of course his parents want to meet her. He didn’t get married to her for the pleasure of her (admittedly rare) company.

“And…you don’t want me to?” she says.

“You seem upset,” she adds, when he raises an eyebrow at her.

“I thought that was just my face,” Jiang Cheng says.

(You say something one time, way back in college, and this man holds onto it forever. She’d said it in his defense, even! Next time a-Yuan decides to use Jiang Cheng as a jungle gym, she’s going to encourage it.)

“If we’re going to try and convince your parents that we’re married, it would probably help if they actually met me,” she says. “It’s a little weird not to. Unless you’re having second thoughts.”

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes and shifts in his seat until he’s sitting straight, (finally) pulling her feet into his lap. (Not that she was Aiming for a foot massage, but if he’s going to take it upon himself, she’s not going to turn him down.)

“No second thoughts,” he says.

“Very convincing,” she says.

“They’re just…being themselves,” he says. “Which mostly means that the details are superfluous as long as the long-term good of the company has been taken care of. So…”

Ah.

Right.

Rich people.

“You know, I could just sign whatever it is that they want me to sign,” Wen Qing says.

She can’t believe she didn’t think of it before.

“I already told them no,” Jiang Cheng says, looking anywhere but her face.

“Guess, we’ll do it the hard way then,” Wen Qing says.

Jiang Cheng’s shoulders lower, the slightest bit.

“Is that it?” Wen Qing asks, when they reach the next commercial break.

“Pretty sure there’s another fifteen minutes,” Jiang Cheng says.

“You were just stressed about me meeting your parents,” Wen Qing clarifies. “You’re not too tired to function, or like generally, more unhappy than happy?”

“I’m happy,” Jiang Cheng says, turning to look at her, completely straight faced.

Wen Qing bites her lip.

Jiang Cheng raises both eyebrows at her this time, which means he’s going to take it personally if she keeps pushing it. He’ll accuse her of calling him a liar and then he actually will be unhappy.

“Yes or no, should I throw water in your parents’ faces if they ask me to sign something?” Wen Qing says.

Jiang Cheng blinks at her, and then laughs.

“That’s probably unnecessary,” he says.

If they were actually married, this is where she would lean forward to kiss him. She starts to sway forward anyway, because he makes it so damn easy to just take what she wants, but she thinks she manages to catch herself before he notices.

“Fine, fine,” she says, instead of giving into her more self-destructive impulses. “I won’t intentionally insult your parents. Which I suppose means I should meet them sooner rather than later.”

“If you insist,” Jiang Cheng says, with a long-suffering sigh.

It’s the same sigh he used earlier in the day, when he told a-Yuan not to sit on the ground at the park and so a-Yuan had sat on Jiang Cheng’s feet instead. Jiang Cheng didn’t want to encourage bad (or even just silly) behavior so he hid his laughter behind annoyance.

Good sign.

Very, very good sign?

Wen Qing settles back on her side of the couch, as much as she can while Jiang Cheng has taken ownership of her feet, reassured that she and a-Yuan aren’t the absolute Worst things to have happened to Jiang Cheng. She can work with that. She just has to keep an eye on it.

While she’s in a good mood, Wen Qing starts composing an e-mail to Wen Ning, telling him about what’s been happening here and trying to come up with questions that will show she wants to hear about anything he wants to tell her about.

For some godforsaken reason, Jiang Cheng’s plan for introducing Wen Qing to Mom and Dad involves just like…showing up at a restaurant of their choice with no back-up. Luckily for him, Wei Ying is nosy and Yanli can talk just about anyone into just about anything.

Updating the reservation is the work of a moment.

“What…are you all doing here?” Jiang Cheng says, leaving behind an empty space where he clearly wants to swear.

Wei Ying stands up so he can see and yup, there’s a-Yuan, already looking bored.

Looks like Jiang Cheng has some strategy after all. Or maybe he just hasn’t figured out getting a babysitter yet.

“I’m sorry, I thought this was a family dinner,” Wei Ying says, throwing smiles at everyone.

Wei Ying and Yanli had plotted to get there early, so they and Zixuan are already at the table, ready to control the shit out of this narrative. In the face of a complete lack of evidence, Wei Ying is throwing his support behind this marriage.

He hadn’t properly considered how nice it will be to have someone else he likes at family things, before.

“You did not,” Wen Qing says, scoffing.

Wei Ying thinks he detects her shoulders relaxing ever so slightly now that she has backup.

“An oversight that has been corrected,” Yanli suggests.

She takes advantage of Wei Ying standing to maneuver Wen Qing into what was supposed to be Wei Ying’s seat. Yanli and Wen Qing have met before due to ten or so years worth of parties and events hosted by yours truly and Yanli isn’t going to play by normal rules for officially meeting her sister-in-law for the first time. She’s ready to do a deep dive and nothing, not even Mom and Dad, are going to get in the way of Yanli having a sister at last.

“Absolutely not,” Jiang Cheng says, when Wei Ying tries to sit down next to Wen Qing.

“You get to see her all the time,” Wei Ying whines.

He moves over a seat anyway. Jiang Cheng motions at a-Yuan, and then at the chair Wei Ying is now occupying. Wei Ying looks over to the side counting out a grand total of two more chairs at the table before swinging his gaze back up to Jiang Cheng.

Wei Ying isn’t the only one who wasn’t expecting a-Yuan.

A-Yuan climbs up onto Jiang Cheng’s chair and surveys the table, biting his lip.

“They forgot the crayons,” a-Yuan says to Jiang Cheng.

“Somehow, I doubt it,” Jiang Cheng says.

He reaches over a-Yuan, stacking his entire place setting on top of Wei Ying’s, and reaches into Wen Qing’s purse with a casualness that is more shocking than everything else Jiang Cheng has done in his life, ever. Then he deposits a coloring book and a handful of crayons in front of a-Yuan, scooping a-Yuan up and sliding into the chair beneath him while a-Yuan’s reaching for his new entertainment.

“Thanks,” Jiang Cheng says, once he’s got them both situated.

“You’re welcome,” a-Yuan says, busily coloring.

Jiang Cheng pats a-Yuan’s head.

“What he said,” Wei Ying says.

“It’s going to be fine,” Jiang Cheng says.

“Obviously,” Wei Ying says.

“I just—“

Wei Ying leans over, comically far, in order to bump shoulders with his brother. It’s just that Mom can be unpredictable at the best of times, and her pet peeve is anything that can be construed as a lack of respect.

“Not even Mom can complain about you getting married to a doctor,” Wei Ying says.

Jiang Cheng mumbles something that’s probably a negative.

“That’s the spirit,” Wei Ying says.

“So…” Wei Ying says. “Think Yanli can make it to dessert without making an announcement, or is she going to steal your thunder immediately?”

“She can have it,” Jiang Cheng says. “I’ll gift wrap it if she wants.”

Wei Ying tsks.

“You’re terrible gift wrapping,” he says.

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes, in a way that means he’s finally dropped his stress levels enough to be casually annoyed instead of wound so tight he’s about to snap. Progress.

“We’re happy with how that went, right?” Wen Qing says, when they get home.

“Yeah?” Jiang Cheng says, from where he’s supervising a-Yuan’s toothbrushing.

It went shockingly well, honestly. Possibly because they’d only gotten halfway through dinner before Yanli decided she couldn’t stand keeping secrets anymore.

“Okay,” Wen Qing says, in a way that feels distinctly not okay.

Jiang Cheng has to let that sit while Wen Qing reads a story with a-Yuan and tucks him in, but he’s ready and waiting as soon as Wen Qing comes out of a-Yuan’s room.

She senses it and heads for the kitchen instead of the living room. Jiang Cheng follows her. He’s spent years following her around, he’s not about to stop now. Not unless she straight up asks him to.

“Do you not feel like tonight went okay?” he asks.

She stares at him, like it doesn’t compute that he followed her here. Like maybe she didn’t have a plan for when she came into the kitchen and she was just going to stand there and stare at the wall until she could justify going to bed. She turns away and gets herself a glass of water, shrugging.

“I just don’t think they like me very much,” she says.

“Dad thought you were great, and Mom doesn’t like anyone,” Jiang Cheng says. “If anything, she’s mad because she doesn’t have a logical reason to dislike you.”

“I don’t feel like I’m holding up my end of the bargain very well,” she says.

She keeps trying to chew on the edge of the glass, but she picked an actual glass instead of a plastic cup so it’s not going very well for her. He hands her a straw.

“Your part of the bargain was that I don’t get sent on any arranged dates, and look at me, date free,” Jiang Cheng says.

He adds some jazz hands, just to make her smile. She does, but only a little bit. Not enough to be reassuring.

“Did you want kids?” Wen Qing says.

“I—what?” Jiang Cheng says.

What the what?

Jiang Cheng rewinds and goes through that night’s conversation. Mom had definitely brought up grandchildren, but Jiang Cheng doesn’t remember hesitating at all in telling her that they didn’t have any current plans for having a baby. They already have one, what more does she want?

(She wants a direct bloodline and someone carrying on the family name, but they’re all just going to have to learn to compromise. We don’t always get exactly what we want the way we thought we wanted it.)

“Every time I turn around it feels like I see something else you’re giving up to help me,” Wen Qing says. “I don’t want you to have any regrets. Or feel like I’m steamrollering you into anything.”

“I’ve given up fucking nothing,” Jiang Cheng says. “What do you think a-Yuan is?”

“Mine,” Wen Qing says.

“Ours,” Jiang Cheng counters.

Wen Qing presses her lips together and looks to the side and Jiang Cheng is suddenly struck by the realization that it’s the exact same expression that he makes sometimes when he’s overwhelmed. Wei Ying calls it Jiang Cheng’s “begging for it” face and always treats it by being extra clingy and affectionate.

Jiang Cheng quickly divorces the phrase “begging for it” from Wen Qing and goes through his options.

Wei Ying normally tackle hugs Jiang Cheng, but that seems a bit aggressive for someone who might not want to be hugged. Jiang Cheng could be reading Wen Qing entirely wrong here (he’s absolutely not).

She could totally murder him though. Not even on purpose, just as a reflex.

He opens his arms wide.

“What are you doing?” she says, taking half a step back.

“Just get over here,” he says.

She approaches slowly, and allows him to wrap his arms around her. She stays tense, like she thinks it’s a trap. Or like she’s forgotten what being hugged is like.

“Just promise to let me know if it gets to be too much,” she says. “Or if you change your mind and want out. If you want something I can’t give you. It doesn’t have to be a whole thing.”

“Fuck. Off,” he says.

What else could he possibly want? He’s had nothing but gains from this marriage.

So what if he’s constantly tired and sometimes feels like he exists to be a-Yuan’s sidekick more than his own person?

Who cares?

Worth it.

Jiang Cheng supposes theres a limit to the things he would do in the name of Wen Qing, but he can say unequivocally that they haven’t even gotten close to it.

She’s still not relaxing into the hug so Jiang Cheng decides to backtrack on that. For all he knows, he’s making it worse. Who knows what Wen Qing is willing to give him if she feels like she owes him and needs to even the score. Especially if she’s counting things that Jiang Cheng hasn’t even bothered to think about.

He starts to let go, and she throws her arms around his waist.

Well.

If she’s going to actively participate…Jiang Cheng isn’t actually that good of a person. As evidenced by the whole taking advantage of Wen Qing’s family tragedy in order to keep her in his life.

He pulls her back tight and this time she melts against him.

“Okay,” she says.

He knows that she’s just saying okay, that she’ll stop asking rather than she’ll stop believing that he’s lying about being fine. For now it’s just going to have to be enough.

He weighs the outcomes and what he thinks Yanli’s advice would be.

(Yanli’s advice is always, Always, to talk about it. Which is hilarious, coming from her and Zixuan’s greatest hits of Not Fucking Talking About It.)

“If you keep asking me to leave, I’m going to think you don’t want me here,” he says.

If they were married, really married, he’d kiss her now, to reinforce how much he does want to be here. He compromises and kisses the side of her head, where it’s basically pushed up against his mouth anyway.

Plausible deniability.

She squeezes him a little tighter and he tries to be satisfied with that.

Wen Qing tinkers with her e-mail to Wen Ning during her spare time for weeks. She can’t settle on the right tone for apologizing for not understanding while also taking him to task for thinking that she would ever not want anything to do with him.

She was giving him space because that’s what he asked for.

She’ll be all ready to send the e-mail and then she’ll remember that all of this is based off of hearsay from Wei Ying, who isn’t exactly a truth teller. It’s fully possible that Wen Ning Doesn’t want to hear from her, Isn’t waiting for her to get over herself. Wei Ying might have just decided that enough was enough, and since the solution to Wei Ying’s problems is somehow always his siblings, then, naturally, the solution to Wen Qing and Wen Ning’s problems must also be each other.

Like, obviously. The only solution is going to be talking to each other at some point. Wen Qing just can’t decide if it’s the Right time. What if they aren’t there yet?

As long as Wen Qing doesn’t press send, she can believe that reunion is just one button away. Schrödinger’s little fucking brother.

Wen Qing is hesitating over pushing send for the thousandth time when Jiang Cheng comes into the room and frowns at the bed.

She looks to the side to find that a-Yuan has mostly migrated across the bed and is star-fished out sideways in about the exact center of where Jiang Cheng normally sleeps, under his own blanket, but on top of Jiang Cheng’s.

(They’d packed away the custom blankets and started using smaller, individual ones after a-Yuan managed to get lost along the foot of the bed once. Now easy escape is only a flail or two away, for safety.)

“He probably won’t wake up if we move him,” she says.

Maybe.

It can be hard to tell and she has no idea when he actually fell back to sleep, despite the fact that she was sitting right next to him (more or less). Too wrapped up in her phone and the will-she-won’t-she send the e-mail conundrum for the night to be paying attention to her surroundings.

Probably a sign that she should give up for the night.

Jiang Cheng works his hands under a-Yuan’s shoulders and freezes as a-Yuan starts babbling something in his sleep. He steps away until a-Yuan settles back down.

“Maybe—” Wen Qing says.

“You move him, then,” Jiang Cheng says.

He disappears to change into pajamas and when he comes back he grabs his pillow.

“Where are you going?” Wen Qing says, when Jiang Cheng heads for the door.

“The couch?” Jiang Cheng says.

“What if he gets scared, waking up all alone?” Wen Qing says.

She doesn’t actually know what their normal weekday routine is. For all Wen Qing knows, Jiang Cheng could get up as soon as she leaves and a-Yuan could wake up alone on the regular. She just—

Wen Qing flails a little, and gets her duvet to spread out to it’s full double-bed size instead of being scrunched up around her. Then she pats the mattress beside her for good measure. Platonic parents sleeping together platonically. Perfectly normal.

Jiang Cheng hesitates for a minute before crawling, somewhat reluctantly, into the middle of the bed, edging under the offered blanket.

“Are you using me as a body shield?” he asks.

Wen Qing tries to smile enigmatically and shrugs. Then she turns out the light because she’s not quite sure the enigmatic thing is working and she’s only just realizing how late it is. Is this what time Jiang Cheng goes to bed every night?

She wiggles down into a sleeping position facing away from Jiang Cheng and does a terrible job convincing herself that this is the exact same thing that they’ve been doing for ages.

“Why are you still awake?” Jiang Cheng says after a few minutes.

Wen Qing feels a brief moment of vindication over the fact that she’s not the only one having trouble falling asleep before she remembers that Jiang Cheng is a terrible sleeper and that they’ve only just starting trying to go to sleep.

“I just—Wen Ning,” she says.

She doesn’t know how to explain, doesn’t know where to start with it all. The only person she’s talked about it with at all has been Wei Ying and that was only because Wei Ying already knew about it. Not to mention, she didn’t really talk. She just got handed a sentence with very little context.

“Ah,” Jiang Cheng says.

“Ah?”

Does he know something? Does he think he knows something? You can never be quite sure what Wei Ying is going to do with information. He’s perfectly capable of keeping a secret, he’s just not always very good at determining if something is a secret.

“No,” Jiang Cheng says. “Just like, brothers…”

He shifts a little and Wen Qing imagines him doing jazz hands because he knows it makes her laugh. Just the thought makes her smile a little.

“Ah,” Wen Qing says.

Silence.

“Is something wrong?” Jiang Cheng says.

“I don’t—“

Wen Qing cuts herself off. She doesn’t like relying on people because they’re fickle and fragile and sometimes the leave even when they don’t want to. But Jiang Cheng is her husband and whispering in bed like this reminds her of sleepovers way back before any of the bad things happened. Back when when sleepovers were where all the secrets came out because it’s safe to say anything in the dark.

Wen Qing rolls over so she’s facing Jiang Cheng even if she can’t really see him.

“Yes,” she says. “We kinda…drifted. Wen Ning and I, after Wen Ning moved out. He asked for space and I thought this was part of it, but then Wei Ying said that Wen Ning thinks I’m giving him the silent treatment. Which I’m not, by the way.”

Jiang Cheng tsks.

“He’s so fucking nosy,” he says.

“He’s probably right,” Wen Qing says. “I have to reach out if I want to fix it.”

She can feel, rather than see Jiang Cheng’s grimace at that. She’s right, so he can’t fight her on it, and he hates it.

A-Yuan moves and mumbles something, and Jiang Cheng pulls Wen Qing’s blanket up over their heads.

“Cozy,” Wen Qing says, trying not to get herself distracted by how close Jiang Cheng feels now that they’re both all the way under the blanket, as opposed to when they had all the air in the room.

She doesn’t know what else to do in here, so instead of anything normal she nearly blinds both of them by pulling up her e-mail and asking Jiang Cheng to read through it.

He thinks she’s being too nice, which reassures Wen Qing that she isn’t being too mean or passive aggressive. By the time a-Yuan has woken up again for real and Jiang Cheng goes to convince him to go back to sleep, she’s feeling good enough to finally hit send.

Immediately regrets it, but too late. She’s not going to google getting back a sent e-mail, either. Branch: extended.

Jiang Cheng slides back under the covers next to Wen Qing and she doesn’t point out that if a-Yuan has woken up, Jiang Cheng could easily take back his side of the bed.

“Thanks,” she says, instead.

“You ignored everything I said,” he says.

“Accept my gratitude,” she says, slapping at his shoulder.

“Whatever,” he says.

He sounds like he’s smiling so she slaps at his shoulder again, happy to find a way to touch him that doesn’t get misread as weird or creepy.

“Ugh, enough,” he says. “I’m never sleeping in the middle again.”

“Mm, sounds fake,” she says,

He laughs and she rolls back over, away from Jiang Cheng, ready to fall asleep at last.

When Wen Qing wakes up in the morning, she’s facing Jiang Cheng, and a-Yuan has wormed his way in between them during the night. Jiang Cheng wakes up and catches her staring at them like a deranged creeper, because of course he does. She rolls out of bed and pretends like her moving was what woke him up.

“I’m so sorry, go back to sleep,” she says.

Against all odds, he does, and Wen Qing has to fight the instinct to get back in bed and kiss him on the forehead. Instead, she gets ready for work, with an unheard of level of reluctance.

Wei Ying sticks his head around the corner and continues sneaking his way over to Jiang Cheng’s office. Mom doesn’t like it when Wie Ying comes up to this floor because only upper management are supposed to have access and the entire system will come Crashing Down if a non-executive steps foot on it.

Or something.

She’s never been very clear on what Will happen, only that she doesn’t like it.

As if there’s anything interesting up here other than Jiang Cheng.

Honestly.

They don’t even have the good snacks.

At the end of the hall, Wei Ying gets lucky. Jiang Cheng’s secretary has either already left or is off doing a thing, leaving Jiang Cheng unguarded.

(Not that the secretary would do anything to stop Wei Ying. They mostly think it’s funny when Wei Ying is trying to disturb Jiang Cheng and they have, more than once, given Wei Ying a heads up if Mom was planning a visit.)

“Never fear, your savior is here,” Wei Ying says, throwing himself into the open doorway of Jiang Cheng’s office.

Jiang Cheng balls up some paper off of his desk and throws it at Wei Ying. Presumably, whatever is on the paper is unimportant.

“The fuck is your problem?” Jiang Cheng says. “Answer your texts.”

Wei Ying bows and spreads his arms out, like he’s presenting something.

“The fuck do you think I’m doing?” Wei Ying says.

Jiang Cheng gets up and grabs Wei Ying, yanking him fully into the office.

“I need a favor,” Jiang Cheng says, hands tight on Wei Ying’s shoulders.

Wei Ying tries rolling his shoulders to make it feel more like a massage, but no dice. Jiang Cheng is too busy making earnest eye contact.

“Okay, drama queen,” Wei Ying says. “What is it?”

“I know it’s like, your super important date night with Lan Zhan,” Jiang Cheng says. “But I need you to babysit. And pick a-Yuan up from daycare.”

What?

First off, it’s not a date night. Thursday is very specifically, not-a-date night, a.k.a. that night when Lan Zhan and Wei Ying hang out and aren’t allowed to dump each other for dates with other people because friends are important too.

Not that either of them have been going on a lot of dates lately.

And not that they really need to schedule time to hang out now that they live together.

Secondly (fourthly?), since when do we entrust Wei Ying with child caretaking responsibilities? He’d never asked for that. He doesn’t have that skillset.

“He’s supposed to be picked up in fifteen minutes, they fine you for every minute you’re late, and Wen Qing won’t be done for at least another hour,” Jiang Cheng says. “And Mom just added a fucking dinner meeting to my calendar without any notice.”

“So tell her no,” Wei Ying says. “Or show up with a-Yuan.”

“Please,” Jiang Cheng says, skipping over any and all petty arguments to just pull directly at Wei Ying’s heartstrings.

Wei Ying didn’t even know that Jiang Cheng Could skip over a petty argument.

“Let me check with Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says.

“Wei Ying!”

“What? I can’t just cancel with this short of notice!”

“You have literally cancelled on me mid-activity,” Jiang Cheng says.

Which, like…is true. But it was a boring ass activity. And an activity with Jiang Cheng is different than an activity with Lan Zhan. It just is. Wei Ying doesn’t make the rules.

“What am I even supposed to do with him?” Wei Ying says. “Take him to a movie? Are there even any kid-friendly movies out right now?”

“Just take him home,” Jiang Cheng says. “My home. And like, don’t let him die until Wen Qing gets home.”

“What if he gets hungry?” Wei Ying says, somehow conned into talking about the logistics of a favor he hasn’t technically agreed to.

“Feed him,” Jiang Cheng says. “He has no known allergies and trust me, if he doesn’t like it, he’ll let you know. But cut it up! If it—no. Just, anything. Cut anything you give him into bite-sized pieces. And don’t let him chug whatever he’s drinking, he always forgets to breathe.”

“Right,” Wei Ying says.

Jiang Cheng sends Wei Ying the daycare information and promises to have everything arranged with them by the time that Wei Ying gets there. Wei Ying doesn’t bother sneaking back out of Jiang Cheng’s office, there’s no time for games.

This is Mom’s fault anyway.

He’s so focused on making it to pick a-Yuan up on time that he runs right past Lan Zhan outside the building and has to double-back. Lan Zhan does his “what’s wrong now” head tilt thing and Wei Ying grabs his hand, dragging Lan Zhan along.

“Slight change of plans,” Wei Ying says, as they run. “How do you feel about babysitting?”

“With you?” Lan Zhan says.

This is either adorable (as long as it’s with you) or incredibly bitchy (why is someone trusting you with a kid). Wei Ying decides to assume adorable because he has no time for the second option.

“No, I’m going to dump the kid on you and bounce to do our original plans on my own,” Wei Ying says.

It was Lan Zhan’s turn to come up with something so Wei Ying doesn’t even know what the original plans were, just that Lan Zhan didn’t feel the need to pass along a dress code requirement.

Hopefully it wasn’t something pricy, or something that had involved a long waitlist. They don’t normally do tickets to something as a surprise (see: previous dress code violations), but Lan Zhan loves a fine dining moment that requires a reservation months in advance.

“Mn,” Lan Zhan says, unamused, as Wei Ying skids to a stop.

He double-checks the info that Jiang Cheng had texted and goes inside what looks to be just another office building.

Not a great first impression for a daycare, honestly. Don’t kids deserve fun? Bright colors, at least? Soft surfaces? Outdoor space to play?

Inside, at the front desk, Wei Ying has to sign in in order to access another front desk, one that is for a child-friendly space (colors! rounded corners!). Once at his second front desk, Wei Ying has to proceed to sign his entire life away to get access to a-Yuan.

Apparently this is the expedited process because Wei Ying is already on the list of approved people to pick a-Yuan up. A revelation that is both touching and annoying.

Like, thanks for the trust, but a heads up would have been nice.

(There was no heads up because Jiang Cheng knew that Wei Ying would have tried to wiggle out of it if he’d known about it.)

After the daycare has verified Wei Ying’s identity six ways from Sunday, he gets led into the main playroom and a-Yuan is waved over. There’s a moment of potential disaster when a-Yuan comes over and frowns at him, but Wei Ying explains the situation and a-Yuan decides not to worry about it.

A-Yuan struggles his way into his jacket and gets his little backpack of pre-schooler things from his cubby. Then he holds his hand up for Wei Ying to take and they walk out, meeting Lan Zhan in the lobby.

Now that it’s been established that Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing will totally be home for bedtime, a-Yuan takes the appearance of an adult that he absolutely doesn’t know completely in stride. He sticks his free hand up so that Lan Zhan can take it before they go outside. Like he’s holding onto their hands for their protection instead of the other way around.

“So, this is my new nephew,” Wei Ying says to Lan Zhan.

“Cousin,” a-Yuan says.

“What?” Wei Ying says.

“I only have cousins,” a-Yuan says. “Jiang Cheng’s not my new dad. He’s my superhero, but that’s different. He said.”

“Jiang Cheng said he’s your superhero?” Wei Ying says, mouth twitching.

Absolutely not, Jiang Cheng would never. Wei Ying is still going to make fun of him for it.

“Yup,” a-Yuan says, with a little skip.

“Is Wen Qing a superhero too?” Wei Ying says.

“Obvi,” a-Yuan says.

Wei Ying stops trying to hold back the smile. He takes it all back, he is totally down for babysitting. This kid is hilarious.

When Jiang Cheng gets to the restaurant indicated in his schedule, Mom and Dad are both there. Which means that it’s not actually a work meeting and that Wei Ying was right. Jiang Cheng should have been both late and dragging along a-Yuan, if he showed up at all.

Except that would involve using a-Yuan as a shield and assuming that whatever Mom and Dad want to talk about, they would pull their punches with a kid at the table.

They never cared about Jiang Cheng’s feelings growing up (they don’t care about Jiang Cheng’s feelings now). Best not to assume that they’ll care about a-Yuan’s.

Mom and Dad make small talk while they order and wait for their meals to be delivered and Jiang Cheng has to bite down on the impulse to check in with Wei Ying. Jiang Cheng is no longer a child, but he feels like he’ll get punished if he gets caught texting under the table rather than paying attention to Dad’s in-depth weather recap.

On weather that they all experienced, mind you.

Also: Wei Ying is fine. A-Yuan is fine. There’s no fucking way Lan Zhan didn’t decide to go babysit with Wei Ying once their plans got cancelled and as obnoxiously tedious as Jiang Cheng finds Lan Zhan, no one is getting harmed on Lan Zhan’s watch.

The man is Too responsible, if anything. Jiang Cheng will probably get home to find that a-Yuan had fallen asleep immediately following dinner due to sheer boredom. Be totally wired and refusing to go to bed on time.

“What is this about?” Jiang Cheng asks, as soon as the waiters step away from delivering the main course.

(Everyone is fine, but also, what the fuck is going on? Someone had better be dying.)

((Jiang Cheng takes that thought back before he even fully thinks it. He’s so not ready to deal with any of that.))

Mom glares over at Dad, so whatever this is must have been his suggestion.

Which is…interesting. Jiang Cheng doesn’t remember the last time Dad was allowed to have a suggestion about anything, especially about the kids. Jiang Cheng’s parents believed absolutely in a strict division of labor, until they didn’t, and Mom was just in charge of everything.

“We were thinking that we should check in with you more,” Dad says.

“Okay,” Jiang Cheng says, slowly.

“Was your surprise marriage not a cry for attention?” Mom says.

That…sounds more like them.

“No,” Jiang Cheng says. “And in future I’d appreciate more notice, so we can arrange care for a-Yuan. Or, if you really wanted to know what’s going on in my life, you could also invite my kid to dinner.”

Mom tsks like she doesn’t approve of kids at dinner.

(Looking back, she absolutely doesn’t. Growing up, the kids and the adults had separate dinner times and the kids always ate in the kitchen, while Mom and Dad ate in the dining room. Meals together were a special occasions only kind of thing, and therefore, more nerve-wracking than enjoyable. Therefore: the current situation.)

“You don’t want your wife invited to dinner?” Mom says.

“Without notice?” Jiang Cheng says. “You can invite her but she won’t be able to come.”

Probably. She might be able to make in work, but Jiang Cheng sees no need to ask that of her.

Mom and Dad exchange glances again.

Jiang Cheng will admit that he’s never understood their marriage. They fought a lot when Jiang Cheng was a kid, only for everything to go ominously quiet after Mom had taken over running the company. He always kind of assumed that they found divorce unacceptable.

That doesn’t account for how they got married in the first place though. And he’d never noticed the non-verbal communication thing before. Maybe they do actually like each other.

Weird.

“What does she have on you?” Mom says, when she and Dad are done with whatever conversation they’re having.

“What?” Jiang Cheng says.

Mom breathes out hard through her nose and makes a vague motion towards Jiang Cheng.

“The company lawyers have noticed that there wasn’t any paperwork filed with your marriage,” Dad says.

Which, like, is a conversation that Jiang Cheng had seen coming at some point. Didn’t see Dad talking to the company lawyers though.

“And?” Jiang Cheng says.

No way out but through.

“You’re not stupid enough to put the company and the welfare of everyone who works at it in jeopardy by not putting protections in place when you got married,” Mom says.

“She wouldn’t—“ Jiang Cheng says.

“If you let her get used to a certain standard of living and then get divorced—“ Mom says.

“She’s a surgeon, she’s not exactly without resources,” Jiang Cheng says, even though nothing good comes of cutting Mom off.

“She’s a surgeon with an astronomical amount of debt and you’ve paid for everything for that boy thus far,” Mom says.

Even though Mom has always had the final word with anything to do with the kids, Jiang Cheng turns to Dad in appeal at that. They have had…many discussions over the years about Mom not pulling strings with the family accountants to peek at Jiang Cheng’s financials.

Money gets complicated fast when it’s handed down and connected to family business concerns. Jiang Cheng could switch his personal accounts to a different bank, and he could maybe get his own accountant, but that would make news in the exact circles that you don’t want to get nervous about how your company is doing.

Knowing Mom, she would still find a way to find out what she wanted to know.

Dad waves him off.

“I think we’re getting a little off track,” Dad says. “We merely wanted to let you know that if she’s blackmailing you, it would go better if you let us know now so we can help you.”

Jiang Cheng blinks.

He doesn’t know what to do with that.

Jiang Cheng had thought of many scenarios in which his parents refused to accept his marriage to Wen Qing. It was why he didn’t want Wen Qing to meet them until he had figured out if they were going to be outright hostile or just passive aggressive. He never thought that they would assume literal crime was happening rather than their cover story.

And not only did they assume crime was happening, they assumed that Jiang Cheng had done something worthy of blackmail? Like…That’s what they think of him? They’d raised him to over consider how his every action could rebound on the company, and the family, and all it had done was give him a massive case of anxiety.

Everyone else: nothing. Zero faith.

Not even a benefit of the doubt.

Jiang Cheng is a good person, damnit.

Decent, at the very least.

Not…whatever they think of him, that they immediately assume a worst case scenario.

“I love her,” he says.

(It’s so unfair the way that Jiang Cheng can say that he loves Wen Qing to everyone Except for Wen Qing.)

“That’s—“ Mom says.

“No,” Jiang Cheng says, cutting Mom off for an unprecedented second time in one conversation. “The answer to any question you have about my marriage is that I’m in love with her. Which, by the way, is something that you should want for your son’s marriage. Not a business merger.”

“I never asked you to get married for business reasons,” Mom says. “I merely made some introductions.”

“Sure,” Jiang Cheng says. “Thanks for dinner, but I have to go.”

“Jiang Cheng,” Dad says.

“I’ve left a-Yuan in Wei Ying’s care long enough,” Jiang Cheng says, and then just gets up and walks away.

What are they doing to do, make a scene about the unknown illegal things they think are happening? Not likely.

Fuck.

Jiang Cheng pays for the meal on his way out in a highly satisfactory, and petty, move that he knows will bother them. When he gets outside he wants nothing more than to go home, but he knows himself even if no one else does. If he goes home now, he’ll spend the rest of the evening demanding to know what people actually think of him. Maybe beg Wen Qing to tell him she loves him and that she’ll never leave him, even though that’s not what they’re about and he knows it.

Best not to risk it.

Instead, he walks far enough away that Mom and Dad shouldn’t accidentally run into him and finds a bar. After ordering a drink, he calls Yanli.

One of these days, he’s going to have to bite the bullet and get an actual therapist. In the meantime, Yanli at least has the context to try and help him muddle out whatever the fuck Mom and Dad are thinking.

When Wen Qing gets home she finds Wei Ying and Lan Zhan on the floor of her living room, playing Candyland with a-Yuan.

Her first feeling is disappointment, which is ridiculous. Before this whole marriage thing, she would have considered Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng at about the same level of friendship.

Well.

In terms of actual, verifiable friendship.

Wen Qing doesn’t like to let things like physical desire get in the way of how she measures friendship. By rights, Wei Ying probably should have come out ahead because he’d come first and he’s always been incessantly annoying about finding time to meet up.

“What?” she says, squatting down so she can ruffle a-Yuan’s hair.

He bats her hand away, but smiles up at her. So apparently he’s having a great time.

“Good to know you don’t just ignore My messages,” Wei Ying says. “Please note the way I’m not saying that that seems suspicious.”

Wen Qing makes a face at him and pulls her phone out to catch up while Lan Zhan moves his game piece with an extreme level of deliberation for a game that’s all luck and zero strategy.

She has one text from Jiang Cheng that almost explains what’s happening and a whole slew of texts from Wei Ying that explains nothing, but does show the course of a-Yuan’s evening. Rather than ask for more detail, she goes into the kitchen where she finds the remains of dinner.

Evidently they’d tried giving a-Yuan an adult sized portion of dinner because there’s still enough left on the plate to constitute Wen Qing’s dinner. She takes it back into the living room to eat cold while watching the end of the game and make sure that they don’t start another one.

She’d wrapped up even later than she’d been planning (hence the whole beating it home instead of checking her texts thing). The bedtime routine is a whole process. It needs to start earlier rather than later.

A-Yuan takes a mercifully quick bath, the better to make sure that Wei Ying doesn’t break his promise and leave before reading a bedtime story. And then Lan Zhan is also cajoled into reading a story because a-Yuan is adorable and conniving and claims not to want Lan Zhan to feel left out.

Wen Qing cuts a-Yuan off when he asks her for a story as well. He’s only supposed to get one story at bedtime, three is pushing it.

“But I can’t go to bed until I say goodnight to Jiang Cheng,” a-Yuan says, in his most reasonable-child-explaining-how-the-world-works-to-an-unreasonable-adult voice.

“You go to bed without saying goodnight to me all the time,” Wen Qing says.

“Just say goodnight to me again,” Wei Ying says. “I’m as good as.”

Lan Zhan makes one of his little humming sounds that probably means that he thinks Wei Ying is an upgrade on Jiang Cheng. Wen Qing can never decide if Lan Zhan cares that little what other people think, or if he genuinely doesn’t realize that other people can hear him.

“Where’s Jiang Cheng?” a-Yuan says.

Tearfully.

Fuck.

(He’s a good kid, but very prone to tears come bedtime.)

“At work,” Wen Qing says.

At the world’s longest dinner, apparently. If Wei Ying had to pick a-Yuan up and everything. How long does it take to eat fancy food with fancy people, anyway?

Wen Qing does her best to smother her annoyance. It’s not like she’s been rearranging anything, really, to take care of a-Yuan. Not comparatively. And it’s not like he fucked off for fun.

“Can we call him?” a-Yuan says.

“No,” Wen Qing says.

The scales finally tip and a-Yuan starts crying in earnest, tears rolling down his cheeks like a cartoon.

“Oh, man,” Wei Ying says. “You really miss Jiang Cheng, huh?”

A-Yuan blubbers something back, but honestly, the only word Wen Qing can work out is “lying”.

“What if Jiang Cheng comes in and tells you goodnight when he gets home?” Lan Zhan suggests.

A-Yuan pitches himself face first into Wen Qing’s lap, where she’s sitting next to him on the bed. She rubs his back and, thankfully, the apartment door opens before she has to figure out a next step. A-Yuan raises his head and they all listen to Jiang Cheng taking rapid steps down the hall.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t even acknowledge Wei Ying and Lan Zhan while he’s pushing past them. He just throws himself down next to the bed and pats a-Yuan’s head.

“I know, I know, I”m sorry I’m late,” Jiang Cheng says.

A-Yuan scrambles out from under the covers he’s been tucked into and climbs over Wen Qing’s lap to get to Jiang Cheng.

“You’re a bad superhero,” a-Yuan says, once he’s safely ensconced in Jiang Cheng’s arms.

“The worst,” Jiang Cheng agrees.

Wei Ying abruptly twists away and buries his face in Lan Zhan’s shoulder and Wen Qing frowns at Lan Zhan, to distract herself from the little tableau in front of her.

“Alright, go to sleep,” Jiang Cheng says, passing a-Yuan back to Wen Qing so she can tuck him back in.

“What if I wake up?” a-Yuan says, sounding almost cheerful.

He uses the same intonation every night. Wen Qing thinks that he thinks that this is also part of the bedtime routine.

Maybe it is, at this point.

“Then you go back to sleep,” Jiang Cheng says.

A-Yuan bites his lip and watches Jiang Cheng expectantly.

“But if you get scared, you know where to find us,” Jiang Cheng says, sighing.

As he sighs he drops his head into her lap for the briefest moment, pulling back and standing up abruptly, before she can react.

They usher Wei Ying and Lan Zhan out of a-Yuan’s bedroom, and then Lan Zhan ushers Wei Ying the rest of the way out of the apartment, taking her warning frown from before to heart.

“So. What happened?” Wen Qing says, the moment the door has closed.

Because Wen Qing is a very cool, completely chill, friend and platonic spouse who wants to be in Jiang Cheng’s business a normal amount.

“Fuck if I know,” Jiang Cheng says.

“Okay,” Wen Qing says.

“I’m sorry I was late,” he says, rubbing at his face with one hand. “I left early but then I called Yanli and try and figure out what they thought they were doing. She’s got nothing by the way.”

“So. Not a work dinner?” Wen Qing says.

“I think my parents just tried to do an intervention?” Jiang Cheng says, laughing in a way that feels on the edge of hysterical.

“An intervention for what?” Wen Qing says.

As far as Wen Qing can tell, Jiang Cheng’s biggest vice is wanting to help everyone and getting his feelings hurt in the process.

“You,” Jiang Cheng says.

“Me?”

“They think you’re blackmailing me.”

Wait, what? How?

“Why?” she says.

“For a-Yuan’s daycare, apparently,” Jiang Cheng says.

“That’s ridiculous,” she says.

“I know, right?” he says, still laughing. “And yet, it’s more reasonable than…than us—“

The laughter drains out of his face and voice, abruptly.

He looks so…tired.

“I mean, they’re not completely wrong,” Jiang Cheng says. “We are using each other. They just missed how.”

“They’re absolutely fucking wrong,” Wen Qing says.

She doesn’t remember the last time she was this angry. First his parents mess up their whole routine, and then they make Jiang Cheng feel like shit for no reason? Who does that?

She doesn’t like the implication that she’s using Jiang Cheng either.

Like. Sure, technically.

But.

It doesn’t feel that way.

It just feels like being on a team with someone. They shift responsibilities as it works. It’s not that she’s trying to get something from him, she just needs more help right now than he does. If the scales ever tip the other way she’d be fucking honored to be the one he asks for help.

She’d be honored to be the one he doesn’t ask for help, the one that he just trusts to pick up the slack if he drops it.

(She has less of a chance of doing that successfully, but she’ll still try. Because this isn’t about him being useful to her, it’s about being useful to each other.)

“I mean—“ Jiang Cheng says.

“No,” she cuts him off. “They’re wrong.”

He sways a little where he stands and Wen Qing is reminded of how touchy-feely Jiang Cheng and his siblings always are with each other. She’s always made such a conscious effort not to touch Jiang Cheng more than necessary in the name of her own sanity that she’d ignored what he needs to keep his own.

She wraps her arms around him, so quickly he doesn’t even really have a chance to react, and he ends up with his arms pinned to his sides.

“Oh,” he says.

She tries to hold him gently, like he’s precious. He works his arms free and holds her gently back, still so tense he’s practically vibrating with it.

“What would I even be blackmailing you over?” Wen Qing asks.

Jiang Cheng breathes in sharply, in a way that she only notices because they’re pressed up against each other. She tightens her hold on him, and he relaxes against her.

“Fucking absurd,” she says into his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he says.

“Sure,” she says.

She doesn’t even know what he’s saying thank you for. She pushes her face into his shoulder while she thinks it over.

She tries not to be weird about it, but she sniffs him anyway, while she’s there. Jiang Cheng somehow always manages to smell like chlorine and sunblock, like he spent so much time in the pool as a kid that it seeped into his very being.

Someday, when they get divorced, Wen Qing is going to have to get a membership to a gym with a pool in it to go sniff when she’s sad and she’s already mad about it.

She still doesn’t know what he’s thanking her for, but she’s absolutely certain that it’s something to do with his parents being shitty. Like, obviously. You have dinner with someone and are then upset, the someone is the problem.

But also: Wei Ying has been very open and loud about the ways that his parents are lacking. She had somehow never made the connection that if they were lacking for Wei Ying they were probably also lacking with Jiang Cheng.

So.

Problem identified.

“I hate your parents,” she says. “I’m totally throwing water in their faces next time I see them.”

Jiang Cheng huffs a laugh. Presses a kiss against the side of her head the way he sometimes does to a-Yuan.

“That probably won’t be necessary,” he says, echoing the other night.

“I know,” Wen Qing says. “That’s why I’m great.”

Jiang Cheng had thought that he’d pulled himself together by the time he went home on Thursday, although that had clearly not been true after Wei Ying and Lan Zhan left and he got feelings all over Wen Qing. She’s been side-eyeing him ever since, like she expects him to completely fall apart at a moment’s notice.

Friday morning he’d opened the refrigerator to start packing a-Yuan’s lunch only to find that Wen Qing had already done it. A practice that she’s apparently intent on continuing.

He doesn’t quite trust it, so it’s almost more annoying than helpful since he now has to check that it happened rather than just know that he has to do it. But he’d rather walk over hot coals than tell her that and reject her help. So.

She has first rights to taking care of a-Yuan anyway. Jiang Cheng is just filling in the gaps. And repacking the snack portion because she keeps cutting up apples to send with a-Yuan and a-Yuan has recently decided that he fucking hates apples.

(He’s kinda hoping a-Yuan gets over it before he has to bring that up. Maybe he can just ask the housekeeper to stop buying them.)

((If he doesn’t, someday soon Wei Ying is going to break into Jiang Cheng’s office and find him eating slices of apple that have been half-peeled to look like little bunnies because he can’t bring himself to throw out Wen Qing’s work like that, and he’s never going to live it down.))

Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing have been tiptoeing around each other for almost a week when Wei Ying bursts into Jiang Cheng’s office and throws Jiang Cheng’s gym bag into his face.

“What’s your damage?” Jiang Cheng says, and promptly sneezes.

It’s been a minute since Jiang Cheng had even thought about going to the gym. There just isn’t any time.

“Your wife asked me to babysit so you could go workout or something,” Wei Ying says. “You’re welcome.”

“She what?” Jiang Cheng says.

He doesn’t wait for the answer, pulling out his phone and texting Wen Qing. Even if she’s not likely to answer, it’s better than nothing.

“I don’t know,” Wei Ying says. “Have you been letting yourself go since you got married?” Wen Qing is a ten, you gotta keep up.”

“I—“ Jiang Cheng stops arguing with Wei Ying because Wen Qing has actually texted him back. Like she was waiting for it.

“Your life is more stressful now, you can’t get rid of the stress relief!” she says, along with a session confirmation at his boxing gym starting in half an hour.

On the one hand, it’s very kind and considerate. On the other hand, coupled with all of the concerned looks and trying to take on extra tasks…Jiang Cheng wants to be the one taking care of Wen Qing, not add to her list of concerns.

“I don’t—“ Jiang Cheng says.

“Ugh,” Wei Ying says. “She didn’t say anything about you staying in shape, she’s just as attracted to you now as she was when you got married.”

It is just great. Getting disemboweled like that, by your brother trying to say something nice. Jiang Cheng doesn’t even think that was Wei Ying fishing for “evidence”. Jiang Cheng blinks hard, startled by how close to the surface tears are. He’s turning into a-Yuan, ready to cry at the drop of a hat.

Or he’s overwhelmed and tired. Things he did used to deal with by going to the gym.

He looks down at his phone. More texts from Wen Qing.

A frowny face.

Multiple frowny faces.

“Do you secretly hate presents?”

He texts back a thank you so she can go back to work without being distracted with his shit.

“You’re really okay with babysitting again?” Jiang Cheng says.

“Yeah,” Wei Ying says. “I mean, I’d appreciate it if it stopped getting thrown at me at the last minute. But I’m good for today. And we all know you’re happier when you get to punch things.”

“Thanks,” Jiang Cheng says.

Wei Ying shrugs, letting Jiang Cheng’s gratitude roll off of his shoulders. He wants all of the attention until he’s actually done something worth getting attention for. Then he gets all uncomfortable and shy.

“Was it that bad, the other night?” Wei Ying asks, carefully looking off to the side instead of directly at Jiang Cheng.

“Didn’t Yanli tell you?” Jiang Cheng says. “Their theory about my marriage is that no one could possibly fall in love with me, so it must be blackmail.”

(Yanli absolutely told him, Jiang Cheng knows this because Yanli always tells him what Wei Ying tells her. A good secret-keeper she is not.)

“They didn’t say no one could fall in love with you,” Wei Ying says.

“I’m sorry, were you there?” Jiang Cheng says.

Wei Ying rolls his eyes in a way that suggests he doesn’t have to be at any given conversation to understand how Jiang Cheng misinterprets it.

“They thought it,” Jiang Cheng insists.

“And then you yelled at them and stormed out, and have been acting like a big baby all week so Wen Qing is concerned?”

Jiang Cheng thinks about Wen Qing hugging him and getting angry on his behalf. It didn’t feel like she thought he was acting like a baby about it at the time. And he’s been trying to make sure he’s not spilling feelings everywhere for her to clean up since.

“No?” Jiang Cheng says, but he doesn’t know.

Maybe.

Wei Ying tsks and holds out his arms for a hug. Jiang Cheng sidles away from him and Wei Ying chases him around the office until Jiang Cheng is cornered.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t fight too hard. He likes the pressure.

“I didn’t yell,” Jiang Cheng says.

Of that, at least, he’s certain. Verifiable fact.

They deserved to be yelled at, but he didn’t.

“You lack moderation,” Wei Ying says, squeezing him tighter. “Your speaking is yelling.”

“You want to lecture Me about moderation?” Jiang Cheng says.

Maybe he yells it.

Whatever.

“We’re both going to be late,” Wei Ying points out.

Jiang Cheng shoves the work he was planning on doing at home into his bag and then they both head out together, running in opposite directions when they go through the doors.

Wen Qing beats Jiang Cheng home again, barely. She’s still saying hi to everyone when Jiang Cheng comes in the door looking sweaty and tired and so much brighter than he has in weeks.

“You always put in so much effort,” Wei Ying says, pantomiming disgust with Jiang Cheng’s sweat drenched clothes to a-Yuan (Who, for the record, finds this hilarious. He’s going to be pinching his nose and calling things stinky for weeks, Wen Qing can just tell.).

“What’s the point of doing something if you aren’t willing to put in a little effort?” Jiang Cheng says.

He gets an ominous glint in his eye, one that Wen Qing doesn’t think she’s witnessed since college, and this is his only warning about what he’s about to do.

Which is to wrap her up in a hug from behind and nuzzle into her cheek while she protests that he’s gross and going to get her clothes all gross. While also clinging to his arm to make sure that he doesn’t let go.

It’s a picture perfect moment to have in front of people that you’re trying to convince you’re married. It’s such a picture perfect moment that Wen Qing is tempted to take advantage of the presence of Wei Ying and Lan Zhan to turn to the side and kiss him.

Just a little.

Okay, a lot.

Apparently Wen Qing likes the athlete thing; a lot of people like the athlete thing. It’s like, a whole genre or whatever.

Wen Qing holds strong and doesn’t do anything more scandalous than leaning ever so slightly back against him while they discuss logistics about showering and eating dinner.

“Me too! Me too!” a-Yuan says, dancing down around their feet. “I want dinner too!”

“I think second dinner would be supper,” Wei Ying says. “Unless it’s the other way around?”

“I thought it was an either/or situation,” Wen Qing says.

“Not for hobbitses and growing radishes,” Wei Ying says.

Wen Qing decides to leave it there. She doesn’t know, nor does she particularly care. Whatever it’s called, a-Yuan is welcome to eat it if he wants, although she suspects he’ll loose interest after a bite or two. He just likes feeling included.

While Jiang Cheng goes off to take a shower and a-Yuan insists on Wei Ying’s help playing a game, Wen Qing goes into the kitchen to find what might pass as dinner. Lan Zhan busies himself around her, washing dishes and wiping down counters whenever her back is turned.

“You don’t need to do that,” she says.

“Mn,” Lan Zhan says, continuing to go around and do exactly as he wants.

Classic Lan Zhan.

“Really,” Wen Qing says. “You can just go play with a-Yuan or something.”

“May I ask…” Lan Zhan says.

Wen Qing looks over at him and then looks quickly away.

“I don’t see why not,” she says.

“How?” Lan Zhan says.

“How what?” Wen Qing says, more as a way to buy time than because she needs clarification on what he means.

It’s the same question she would have asked him if the situation was reversed. If she ever managed to get past the part where she and Lan Zhan weren’t friends like that.

(He seems like a good friend to have. If for no other reason than he’s been vetted by Wei Ying. Unfortunately, Lan Zhan and Wen Qing share the trait that they only get close to people when the other person puts in considerably more effort. It’s a habit she’s trying to break, but Lan Zhan isn’t at the top of her list of people she needs to try harder with.)

“How did you…move past being friends?” Lan Zhan says, eyes flicking towards the living room, where they can hear Wei Ying leading a-Yuan on a merry chase over something ridiculous.

“Fuck if I know,” Wen Qing says.

They hadn’t come up with that answer, hadn’t foreseen anyone wanting the details of something that had supposedly happened so far in the past when there was so much happening currently with a-Yuan and the marriage.

Lan Zhan frowns, so much so that even Wen Qing can recognize it.

“You and Wei Ying aren’t me and Jiang Cheng,” Wen Qing says. “Just talk to him, don’t wait for a situation you can take advantage of.”

Lan Zhan tilts his head slightly to the side and Wen Qing is suddenly sure that she’s said too much. They’ve done so well, holding strong to their story in the face of people outright asking. Then, the one person who has apparently always taken their story at face value asks one question, and Wen Qing lets the whole facade come tumbling down.

Quick. Distraction.

“He’s been exclaiming loudly, and at length, that he’s in love with you for years now,” Wen Qing says. “In front of you, even.”

“Wei Ying exaggerates,” Lan Zhan says.

Which is true. Sometimes.

Often.

However.

“He never says he’s in love with anyone else,” Wen Qing says.

“He’s in love with anyone who gives him food,” Lan Zhan says.

“No, he loves them,” Wen Qing says. “He’s not in love with them.”

A subtle, yet important, distinction. English is stupid.

“Mn,” Lan Zhan says.

Whatever that means.

“I don’t know the last time he went on a date with anyone else. You’re living together. You have date nights and come along to each other’s family things. To an outside observer, you already look together.”

“Appearances can be deceiving,” Lan Zhan says.

Wen Qing is pretty sure that Lan Zhan is retreating to hide behind aphorisms because she’s right and he’s nervous about it. She should be nice. Or gentle. Or something.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to,” Wen Qing says.

“What doesn’t Lan Zhan want to know?” Jiang Cheng says from somewhere behind her.

“Nothing,” Lan Zhan says.

A-Yuan leads a charge into the kitchen, giving Wen Qing the excuse she was waiting for to step back against Jiang Cheng. He wastes no time wrapping his arms back around her, like they’re clicking into place.

“Don’t try teaching Lan Zhan anything, he already knows everything,” Wei Ying says, following close behind a-Yuan.

“Don’t eavesdrop if you’re only going to get half the story,” Wen Qing says.

“Second dinner!” a-Yuan says, and Jiang Cheng lets go of Wen Qing to get a-Yuan situated at the table.

It would be irrational in the extreme to be upset by that.

“Then tell me what I missed,” Wei Ying says.

“Maybe Lan Zhan doesn’t want to tell you, otherwise he would have brought it up with you,” Wen Qing says.

“Nonsense,” Wei Ying says. “We don’t have secrets, right Lan Zhan?”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan says, looking down and away.

Wei Ying takes a step back.

“Okay, then,” he says.

Wen Qing isn’t entirely sure what just happened, but she’s pretty sure that it’s at least partially her fault.

Fuck.

So much for trying to be a better friend.

Wei Ying doesn’t get his equanimity back the whole way home. He holds it together more or less while still at Jiang Cheng’s, but the car ride is quiet and there’s nothing to distract himself with. Except for, you know, driving.

Whatever.

“Lan Zhan,” he says, when he finishes parking the car, but before he turns the car off (Lan Zhan always waits until the car is off to unbuckle, like he thinks it might start moving again without warning). “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan says, ever helpful.

“Like, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. But anything, really,” Wei Ying says.

Lan Zhan looks at him for a moment, before deliberately reaching over and turning the keys in the ignition so the car turns off and unbuckles his seatbelt.

“Mn,” he says, getting out of the car.

“I just—“ Wei Ying says, scrambling after him.

“Wei Ying, it’s not a secret,” Lan Zhan says. “You’re right, we don’t have secrets. It’s just…private.”

“So private you can talk to Wen Qing about it?” Wei Ying asks, as they enter the stairwell.

(They live in a building with an elevator but Lan Zhan will insist on taking the stairs. Something, something, building fitness into your lifestyle, not using the gym to punish yourself. As if turning your perfectly accessible apartment into a five-floor walk-up isn’t a punishment.)

Lan Zhan doesn’t answer, leaving Wei Ying to mull it over on the never-ending journey up.

Wei Ying just…he just hadn’t thought that Lan Zhan and Wen Qing were friends like that. A reoccurring problem with Wen Qing, it seems.

He hadn’t really thought Lan Zhan was friends like that with anyone except for himself and Xichen. It had always felt like an accomplishment, getting Lan Zhan to like Wei Ying that much.

It had always felt like an accomplishment getting Wen Qing to like Wei Ying at all, and then she went and married his brother with no notice.

It’s stupid. It’s stupid and immature to feel cast out and slighted because he turns out to not be the most specialist person in everyone’s lives, ever.

It’s even stupider and more immature to take those feelings out on Lan Zhan, a man who has done nothing wrong except for make friends with someone (someone who Wei Ying can vouch for being a good person, even) when Wei Ying wasn’t looking.

“I’m sorry,” Wei Ying says, as they finally exit the stairs on their floor.

“That’s…okay,” Lan Zhan says, glancing back at Wei Ying, with a confused look on his face.

Wei Ying peeks out from behind Lan Zhan to find that they have a guest on their doorstep.

Wen Ning, with a backpack at his feet.

“Dost mine eyes deceive me?” Wei Ying says, stepping past Lan Zhan to greet Wen Ning properly.

“Hi, sorry,” Wen Ning says, even as he returns Wei Ying’s hug. “It was kind of a last minute decision.”

Wei Ying isn’t sure how last minute a decision it could be given the amount of time it takes to drive across this country, but sure. He can roll with it.

He’s rolling with fucking everything these days.

“Okay!” Wei Ying says.

“Um…I was wondering if I could take a shower here, before trying to connect with Wen Qing?” Wen Ning says.

“Of course,” Wei Ying says. “Not a problem. Roomie!”

“I mean…I can just sleep in my van,” Wen Ning says. “It’s kinda what I do.”

Wen Ning has dropped his arms, but Wei Ying holds on because if there’s anyone who needs an extra long hug, it’s Wen Ning. And maybe a little bit Wei Ying.

“Nonsense,” Wei Ying says. “The cops are overzealous in this neighborhood, just stay with us.”

Wei Ying looks over at Lan Zhan, who nods gravely, seconding the invitation.

“Really—“ Wen Ning says.

“Please, take Wei Ying’s room,” Lan Zhan says. “He can sleep with me.”

“Yeah,” Wei Ying says. “See? Not a problem.”

Wait.

What?

Wei Ying stares at Lan Zhan as Lan Zhan unlocks the door. Lan Zhan is trying to pretend like everything is perfectly normal, but Wei Ying knows Lan Zhan’s tells. He can see the tips of Lan Zhan’s ears blushing a painful red.

“Uh…” Wen Ning says, eyes darting between Wei Ying and Lan Zhan. “Sure, thanks. I’m just going to…go take that shower.”

Lan Zhan goes and finds Wen Ning fresh towels and bedding without saying anything and sends Wen Ning off, retreating to his bedroom. Wei Ying follows, moving cautiously like he’s approaching an animal that’s liable to bite.

“What did you mean,” Wei Ying says. “about me being able to sleep with you?”

“I meant precisely what I said,” Lan Zhan says.

Snippy.

“But—“ Wei Ying says.

Lan Zhan’s shoulders slump. Just a little. It probably wouldn’t be perceptible to most people, but Wei Ying isn’t most people.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Lan Zhan says.

Lan Zhan never says anything that Wei Ying doesn’t understand. That’s Wei Ying’s entire fucking thing, his ability to read Lan Zhan when no one else can. And now, twice in as many conversations, he has no idea what the fuck Lan Zhan is saying.

It has to be connected.

“What were you talking about with Wen Qing earlier?” Wei Ying says.

“I was asking advice,” Lan Zhan says.

Lan Zhan takes a step closer to Wei Ying and reaches up one hand, tucking a strand of hair behind Wei Ying’s ear before cradling Wei Ying’s cheek in the palm of his hand.

Fighting the instinct to turn to the side and nuzzle into that palm feels like fighting a sneeze.

“What could you possibly need advice for?” Wei Ying says, leaning into Lan Zhan’s hand. “You know everything.”

“Not this,” Lan Zhan says, shaking his head.

Lan Zhan’s entire focus seems to be on Wei Ying’s mouth and Wei Ying just can’t anymore. He’s told himself that he has to control himself for years, that it’s all been in his head and it’s not worth messing up what they have. If Lan Zhan has been telling himself the same thing…

Well. There’s really nothing else for it.

Wei Ying (and there’s no other word for it) throws himself at Lan Zhan and kisses him with the pent up emotion of a decade’s worth of pining. Lan Zhan…Lan Zhan doesn’t seem to be kissing him back.

Shit.

God-fucking-damnit.

Wei Ying takes a step back (only a step, his hands are still caught up in Lan Zhan’s shirt and Wei Ying can’t seem to make himself let go).

“I’m sorry, I thought—“ Wei Ying says.

“No, I just didn’t…” Lan Zhan says. “I didn’t think it would work.”

“What?”

This time Lan Zhan closes the distance between them, much more forcefully than Wei Ying had done. Lan Zhan may look like some ethereal being, but he’s fucking solid. They fall in a tangle of limbs onto the bed by grace of Lan Zhan being perfect at everything he does, including pouncing on people.

“I love you,” Lan Zhan says, fast and panicky, like he thinks Wei Ying still might not get it.

Wei Ying slows down, holds Lan Zhan’s face a whole like, two inches away from his own, even though it goes against almost every instinct he has. Every instinct except for the one telling him that he needs Lan Zhan to get it, to understand that this is the one thing Wei Ying has never been fucking joking about.

Eye contact is necessary.

“I love you too,” Wei Ying says.

“Say it again,” Lan Zhan says.

“I love you so fucking much,” Wei Ying says.

He tries to come up with the words to tell Lan Zhan how much, but then Lan Zhan is pushing out of Wei Ying’s hold and kissing him again. And that’s more important, really. He’ll find words later. He gets the feeling that he’s going to be given a lifetime to look for them.

He’ll be taking a lifetime, if it’s given or not.

If Lan Zhan thought Wei Ying was all up in his business before, he ain’t seen nothing yet.

When Wen Ning texted her, asking if she had time to talk that night, Wen Qing told him to call any time after 6:30. She walks out of the hospital at a nearly unprecedented 6:15, holding her phone in her hand to make sure she doesn’t miss it. She’s so focused on not missing his call that she almost misses him, standing there at the entrance.

“What?” she says.

She goes to hug him, and then doesn’t know if that’s crossing a boundary and drops her arms at her sides before she reaches him. He tilts his head with a little half smile and hugs her tight while picking her up.

She’d forgotten that he can do that, just pick her up like it’s nothing. In her brain he’s perpetually fifteen and barely capable of standing strong against a stiff breeze.

“So, like, let’s never do that again,” he says.

If she answers, she might start crying. So instead she just squeezes him back. He seems to understand because he doesn’t pull away for a long time.

“Hi,” she says, when they finally do break apart.

“Hi,” he says, laughing.

There’s a little park near the hospital entrance that Wen Qing uses, just a few trees and some benches. They settle on one, sitting close enough that it feels awkward to look at each other.

Wen Qing texts Jiang Cheng. She doesn’t know if to tell him to expect her to be late or what, so she just tells him that Wen Ning is there. Jiang Cheng texts back immediately with a thumbs up, whatever that means. Wen Ning watches this without comment.

“How are you?” Wen Qing asks.

“Good,” Wen Ning says, nodding. “I’m…good.”

“That’s good,” she says.

She doesn’t know how to do this. She knows that they can’t go back to how they were before, but she doesn’t understand the new rules. She’d felt really good about that e-mail she’d sent, and then Wen Ning had never responded.

Unless this is him responding. Coming home. Even if home just means near her instead of with her now.

“Where are you staying?” she asks, looking around.

Does she even remember what his van looks like? It’s purposefully nondescript.

“With Wei Ying and Lan Zhan, actually,” Wen Ning says.

She raises her eyebrows at him. He’d always followed Wei Ying around enough that she’d suspected him of harboring something of a crush, but they’ve never talked about it. Wei Ying has only had eyes for Lan Zhan for a long time.

“I know,” Wen Ning says, laughing. “I was just asking if I could use their shower and then they wouldn’t let me go back out to the van.”

“I’m sorry,” she says.

“Stop,” Wen Ning says.

“No,” she says. “You were in pain, and asking for help, and I just—“

“Are also human and can’t actually fix everything for me, no matter how much you want to,” Wen Ning says.

“That is an incredibly kind interpretation,” Wen Qing says.

“What can I say,” he says. “You get my benefit of the doubt. Always.”

“I—“ Wen Qing starts, and then stops.

Spending the rest of the night telling Wen Ning how guilty she feels still wouldn’t get across the depth of it and then she would have wasted all of their time together. It would be the opposite of what he’s asking for.

“Do you have any plans?” she asks, instead.

She feels him relax next to her, settling back into the seat in a way that shows her how much he was holding back before.

“I…kinda want to get back into nursing, actually,” he says.

“But—“ she says.

He holds up a hand and she snaps her mouth shut.

“I know,” he says. “But nursing is a good fit for me. I think I just need something that’s slower paced, or less literal life and death. Like at a doctor’s office or something, where I get to keep the same patients and actually see what the care does for them? I was kinda doing a clinic for a while, at this camp, that was really just going over people’s symptoms with them and helping them find the best way to advocate for themselves at an urgent care to actually get the care they need and…I don’t know. I think I just needed to choose it for myself.”

“Oh,” she says. “That’s good. I’m really happy for you.”

He side-eyes her.

“Are you crying?” he says.

“No,” she says, turning to the side and sniffling just a little.

Stupid Jiang Cheng with his stupid feelings all over the place. Wen Qing is going to start hugging strangers next.

Wen Ning laughs and wraps her up in another hug.

“Brace yourself,” he says. “I was also thinking of moving back.”

“Oh,” Wen Qing says, and then has to put a hand up to her face to try and hide the fact that she is definitely crying.

So embarrassing.

Wen Ning just laughs harder.

“I’m sorry for missing your wedding,” Wen Ning says, later, once she’s pulled herself together.

“I’m sorry I didn’t invite you,” Wen Qing says.

“Well, rumor has it you didn’t invite anyone,” Wen Ning says.

“Wei Ying is never going to let it go,” she says.

Wen Ning shrugs.

“It’s what you get for being weird and not telling anybody,” he says.

“I—“ she says.

“I mean, I don’t know what we all expected,” he says. “You’ve both always been weird about each other.”

“Excuse you?” Wen Qing says.

He’s really settling back into annoying younger sibling, a bit too fast.

“C’mon,” Wen Ning says. “Jiang Cheng has done everything except for hire sky writers to tell everyone that he likes you. And you always get this look on your face when he walks in the room, like he’s a treat that has been specifically designed for you.”

“I do not,” Wen Qing says.

“You do too. It’s like—“ He reaches over and presses his thumb into Wen Qing’s chin until her lips part. “It’s not a full jaw drop, but like you have to remember how to breathe.”

“Ridiculous,” Wen Qing says, pulling away.

He laughs again. Really, he’s laughed more in this conversation than in the entire last year that he lived with her. If Wen Qing needed any further evidence that he’d made the right choice, to leave for a while, this is it. He can leave as much as he wants as long as he comes back like this.

They sit and chat for what feels like hours.

It’s not hours because around a-Yuan’s bedtime they get a concerned FaceTime from Jiang Cheng, which is actually from a-Yuan.

“I’m sorry, he just—“ Jiang Cheng clenches his jaw as a-Yuan lets out a particularly loud wail and the picture spins as a-Yuan tries to take control of the phone.

“Well, you’ll be able to see her if you just sit still,” Jiang Cheng says.

“Wen Qing, don’t stay away!” a-Yuan yells, presumable right next to Jiang Cheng’s ear given the way that Jiang Cheng flinches.

“Of course i”m not staying away,” Wen Qing says. “Why would I stay away?”

“F—- apples,” Jiang Cheng says.

“Apples?”

“He’s been refusing to eat them for like…I don’t know, a while. Finally figured out why. Someone at daycare thought it was a great idea to teach the kids that phrase about how an apple a day keeps the doctor away,” Jiang Cheng says.

“Oh, no,” Wen Ning says.

“A-Yuan,” Wen Qing says. “A-Yuan, can you stop yelling long enough to listen to me?”

Whatever is happening on the other end lessens enough that Jiang Cheng can hold the phone at an angle where she can see both of them. A-Yuan is sniffling and was apparently crying hard enough that he’d given himself the hiccups. It’s unbearably cute.

“I’m coming home right now, okay? Finish getting ready for bed and pick out a story and I’ll read it to you before you go to sleep,” Wen Qing says.

A-Yuan sniffles, and after repeated assurances that take longer that Wen Qing’s walk home will, acquiesces.

“Sorry,” Wen Qing says, hanging up. “Do you want to come over?”

“Pass,” Wen Ning says, laughing.

(Always laughing now, her heart hurts in so many directions.)

“Are you sure?”

She knows that Wen Ning is an adult and that she isn’t abandoning one child to take care of another. It still feels that way.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Wen Ning says. “Take care of your kid. I want to fit back into your life, not immediately bulldoze it.”

“If you’re trying to fit in, you could come over tomorrow,” Wen Qing says. “Meet a-Yuan. If you’re free. He set up a playdate for himself with Wei Ying and Lan Zhan.”

“You’re not working?” Wen Ning says.

“You have shockingly good timing,” Wen Qing says.

“Then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” Wen Ning says, grinning.

When Wen Qing gets home she notices that her lips part as soon as she sees Jiang Cheng, as if she is indeed about to do a little mini jaw drop at the sight of her husband. She blushes so hard in retroactive embarrassment that Jiang Cheng thinks she has a fever.

Wei Ying arrives hand-in-hand with Lan Zhan, which is just what Jiang Cheng fucking needs. Briefly, he considers just ignoring it and seeing if it resolves itself.

However.

That would involve going back into the living room, where Zixuan is currently being blissfully ignorant to the fact that nobody cares about his opinions on how to properly raise a-Yuan.

And even if Jiang Cheng could zone out on Zixuan, the only thing he’s been able to think about since last night is how Wen Qing is currently the happiest she’s ever been in the course of their marriage, and how it has nothing to do with Jiang Cheng.

Wen Ning is back in town for the foreseeable future and Wen Qing is practically giddy over it. Jiang Cheng doesn’t think she’s stopped smiling since she got home last night and told him the news.

Which, like. Is great. For her.

But Jiang Cheng isn’t stupid. He knows that they never would have gotten married if Wen Ning had been in town when Wen Qing needed help. If Wen Ning is back for good, it feels like it’s only a matter of time before Wen Qing decides she doesn’t need a fake husband after all.

Whoever said that love is being happy when the person you love is happy was a liar. Jiang Cheng can recognize something being a good thing for Wen Qing while being miserable about it. He contains fucking multitudes.

“That had better be real,” Jiang Cheng says, looking at their hands and leaning against the doorframe to block their way.

“Of course it’s real,” Wei Ying says, without missing a beat. “Why do you think I called out yesterday?”

“I don’t keep track of your attendance,” Jiang Cheng says, rolling his eyes.

(He absolutely does, but ever since Wei Ying moved out there’s been plausible deniability in there and life goes much better when he makes use of it. No matter how much it galls Jiang Cheng to admit it (fucking multitudes), Wei Ying moving out was the best thing for their relationship in all its many variations.)

Next to Wei Ying, Lan Zhan shifts a little like he wants to fight Jiang Cheng on his magnanimous statement. Jiang Cheng narrows his eyes at him, and after a long moment, Lan Zhan dips his head. Slightly.

“I will endeavor to take care of Wei Ying, and to make him happy,” Lan Zhan says.

Well.

That’s something, at least.

“I can take care of myself,” Wei Ying says.

“I’ve seen no evidence of that,” Jiang Cheng says.

Now that the formalities are out of the way it’s getting weird to keep blocking the way into the apartment, no matter ho much Jiang Cheng would rather stay here. He moves out of the way and Wei Ying pulls Lan Zhan past Jiang Cheng into the apartment. Revealing that there’s a third member of their party.

Wen Ning hesitates, like he wants to say something to Jiang Cheng, or maybe like he thinks Jiang Cheng is about to slam the door in his face (he’s only half wrong, Jiang Cheng won’t do it even though he Wants to), before he scurries to catch up with Wei Ying and Lan Zhan.

Jiang Cheng follows with enough reluctance that by the time he’s caught up, the news about Wei Ying and Lan Zhan’s new relationship status has already been announced.

At least it’s cut off Zixuan’s monologue. Small mercies.

Jiang Cheng leans against the doorway rather than try and force his way into the overfilled room. He hadn’t quite imagined his apartment as being the meeting point for everyone, not even when he was picking the apartment with Wei Ying as his roommate. It’s a cozy apartment for three, absolutely stuffed with their nearest and dearest.

While Yanli is demanding a play-by-play from Wei Ying (gross) Wen Qing is introducing a-Yuan to Wen Ning.

Both a-Yuan and Wen Ning are being shy, which would be adorable if Jiang Cheng didn’t currently want Wen Ning to fuck off. If he felt in any way secure about his marriage or his ability to not be replaced by Wen Qing’s brother.

Jiang Cheng snaps back from thoughts of how much easier Wen Qing’s life probably would be if she was relying on Wen Ning instead of Jiang Cheng, to find a-Yuan tugging at the knees of Jiang Cheng’s jeans. Once Jiang Cheng looks down, a-Yuan makes grabby hands up and Jiang Cheng picks him up, because what kind of monster doesn’t pick up a kid who wants to be held?

“What’s up?” Jiang Cheng says, even though he’d rather be taking a nap than having this full-on family reunion disguised as a playdate.

Aren’t playdates supposed to be between kids of same age? Like. Isn’t that how you’re supposed to convince kids to be friends with the kids you want them to be friends with instead of the troublemakers (i.e. Jingyi, a-Yuan’s self-proclaimed BFF and a full on menace)?

“No one’s playing with me,” a-Yuan says.

“Have you asked anyone to play with you?” Jiang Cheng says.

A-Yuan heaves an enormous sigh, like Jiang Cheng just said the most obnoxious thing in the world, and head-butts Jiang Cheng in the cheek on the way to hiding his face in Jiang Cheng’s shoulder.

They have got to start working on spacial awareness, fuck.

Jiang Cheng glances around the room. Wen Qing and Wen Ning are currently off in the corner filling each other in on the past year, Wei Ying and Yanli are filling each other in about the last day, Lan Zhan clinging to Wei Ying’s hand. The only free option is Zixuan.

Which like.

Ugh.

“What did you want to play?” Jiang Cheng says. “Maybe if they see us setting up they’ll want to join in.”

A-Yuan’s head pops up.

“Promise?” he says.

“No,” Jiang Cheng says. “Let’s try anyway.”

Jiang Cheng sets a-Yuan down and a-Yuan halfway strangles him for the effort, hugging Jiang Cheng’s neck. So at least there’s that. A-Yuan still wants Jiang Cheng around.

That’s something.

Getting lunch ready is chaotic.

It was supposed to just be them and Wei Ying and Lan Zhan, which would have been more than manageable. Then Wen Qing had invited Wen Ning and Yanli claims someone said something to her that totally counts as an invitation for both her and Zixuan.

Which like, sure. All the siblings can be equally invited.

It’s just that Wen Qing thinks that if you’re a guest, you should wait to be fed what the host provides. Instead, Yanli had brought a million things that she wants to “just throw together”. Wen Qing is sure that they’ll be delicious. She’s also sure that not everyone can fit in their kitchen and because it’s Yanli, everyone keeps trying to fit in, in the name of helping.

Wen Qing kind of wants to go back to work, to the type of chaos that she’s used to and knows what to do with.

Even worse, Jiang Cheng is being weird about everything. He’s just off and she doesn’t understand it because they were both looking forward to today. It was supposed to be great.

Wen Qing keeps trying to pull people out of the kitchen, but all that’s doing is adding her into the mix. She’s just about to give in and at least remove herself from the problem when there’s a crash behind her.

“Freeze right the fuck now,” Jiang Cheng yells (legit yells, not just him being loud), above all the other noise in the kitchen.

There’s a split second where everyone listens, including Wen Qing, before she decides that not finding out what made the crashing sound is negligent when you have a child on the premises. By the time she’s turned around, Jiang Cheng is already picking a-Yuan up from where he’s standing, obediently frozen, from next to what looks like a shattered glass.

“Oops,” Wei Ying says.

Before Wen Qing can start cleaning up, a-Yuan starts crying loudly from the living room. Visions of glass embedded in little feet fill Wen Qing’s mind and she throws the broom at somebody before rushing out to the living room.

They’re all adults, someone will figure out cleaning up.

(Wen Qing can go over the space when she gets back.)

In the living room, Jiang Cheng has placed a-Yuan on the couch and is kneeling down in front of him, trying to check his feet. A-Yuan isn’t having any of it. He keeps flailing away from Jiang Cheng, which is making Jiang Cheng hold on tighter so that if there is any glass, it doesn’t get pushed in any deeper.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Wen Qing says, sitting down on the couch next to a-Yuan. “What’s wrong? Does it hurt anywhere?”

A-Yuan flings himself into her arms and Jiang Cheng finally gives up and lets go. Wen Qing silences Jiang Cheng’s explanation with a look and tries to encourage a-Yuan to tell her what he thinks is happening.

He does his best, but he’s worked himself into such a state that his voice is just a squeak and all he’s getting out is fragments of sentences.

“Did Jiang Cheng scare you when he yelled?” she says, when a-Yuan gives up.

A-Yuan snuffles a confirmation into her shoulder and Jiang Cheng flinches, down on the floor.

“I’m sorry,” Wen Qing says, patting a-Yuan’s back. “He didn’t yell because he was mad, he yelled because he was scared you would get hurt on the broken glass.”

A-Yuan says something. It’s muffled and Wen Qing doesn’t have high hopes of asking him to repeat himself.

“I know, loud can be scary even when it’s well intentioned,” Wen Qing says.

She nudges Jiang Cheng with her foot and he startles. She tips her head towards a-Yuan and widens her eyes at him.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” Jiang Cheng says.

“No yelling inside,” a-Yuan says.

“That sounds like a good rule,” Wen Qing says.

She bets that’s what he was trying to say earlier.

A-Yuan nods his agreement.

“Okay,” Jiang Cheng says.

Quietly.

Too quietly. She doesn’t like it; it feels unnatural.

“A-Yuan,” Wen Qing says. “When glass breaks, sometimes it breaks into very small pieces that can hurt you later, even if you don’t notice them now. Can Jiang Cheng check your feet and make sure there isn’t any glass?”

“You’re the doctor,” a-Yuan says.

“Then, can I check your feet?” Wen Qing says.

A-Yuan isn’t so sure about that. He whines, but doesn’t fight her when she moves him around to give her better access to his feet. Wen Qing makes short work of the inspection, and soon a-Yuan is wiggling his way off of the couch so he can go back to his adoring guests.

“Check with an adult before you go back into the kitchen, okay?” Wen Qing says.

“Okay, okay,” a-Yuan says.

Jiang Cheng sticks out an arm to bar a-Yuan’s exit and a-Yuan looks over at him, sulky.

“I’m really sorry about yelling,” Jiang Cheng says. “Really, really.”

“It’s okay to be scared,” a-Yuan says, bumping shoulders with Jiang Cheng in a way that’s almost a hug before pushing past and scampering back towards the kitchen.

“Hey, buddy,” Wen Qing can hear Wei Ying says. “Stand with me until Lan Zhan finishes mopping.”

Jiang Cheng stays where he is, kneeling on the floor and staring at the couch. Or beyond the couch. That thing you do when you’re having an existential crisis.

Wen Qing leans forward and pulls him into a hug to the best of her current ability, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and trying not to mind when he doesn’t immediately hug her back. It’s an incredibly uncomfortable angle, with her looming above him on the couch. She’s determined to make it work.

“Thank you,” she says, tucking her face into the crook of Jiang Cheng’s neck.

(Chlorine and sunblock.)

“For what?” Jiang Cheng says. “Making a-Yuan cry?”

“Thank you for caring enough about him that you panicked when you thought he might be hurt,” she says.

He makes a scoffing noise that means he disagrees.

Typical. He never wants to believe anything nice anyone says to him, ever.

She reluctantly untucks her head, but doesn’t let go of his shoulders. An even more awkward angle.

“Excuse you, do you think I’m lying?” she says, forcing eye contact.

“No, I just—“

“Then accept my gratitude and hug me back, you asshole,” she says.

“I—“ he says.

“No,” she says, letting their foreheads rest together, just enough to put the strain off of her neck.

Jiang Cheng still doesn’t hug her back, but he tilts his face up enough to land a ghost of a kiss against her mouth before Wen Ning is clearing his throat behind her to tell them that lunch is ready.

(Brothers. You spend a year trying to give them space, and then they immediately get in your way when they come back. Impeccable timing. Truly.)

Aside from the slight hiccup of a broken glass, that Wei Ying really thinks wasn’t that big of a deal, the day goes great.

He understands that it’s slightly less great for Jiang Cheng since Zixuan has been reading a lot of parenting books and is full of unsolicited advice. But, to be honest, Wei Ying is still riding the high of his new relationship status with Lan Zhan. He can’t bring himself to care that much about anything else.

They’d only left the apartment today because they made a promise to a small child and Lan Zhan takes that very seriously.

So does Wei Ying.

Maybe not As seriously…

Anyway.

It really is a good day. Just oodles of Wei Ying’s favorite people in the same apartment. And Yanli’s cooking. And a-Yuan’s little kid antics to keep everyone on their toes instead of letting the conversation lag after the first hour or so.

It’s such a good day that Wei Ying and Lan Zhan and Wen Ning stay far past what’s polite. Yanli and Zixuan leave mid-afternoon because they have dinner plans, and Wei Ying has the vague plan of only staying another hour or so.

Then a-Yuan is hungry, so they have to have dinner.

Then a-Yuan wants to play one more round of one of his little kid card games that are more fun with more people (and have been turning alarmingly cutthroat among the adults all day).

Then a-Yuan petitions for a bedtime story from each of his guests.

It’s a-Yuan’s fault, is what Wei Ying is saying. All of it. The whole day.

After Wei Ying, Wen Ning, and Lan Zhan host a joint story time, Wen Qing kicks them all out of a-Yuan’s room. Something about a-Yuan being too excited by them being there to calm down and go to sleep.

Wen Ning doesn’t want to leave without saying goodbye to Wen Qing properly, so Lan Zhan wanders off to probably clean the kitchen (again) or something else equally deranged and Wei Ying puts up with the momentary separation from his love in order to go check on Jiang Cheng.

Wei Ying has gotten lazy, recently, assuming he doesn’t need to check on Jiang Cheng if he has Wen Qing.

When Wei Ying had gotten to the apartment that morning he’d thought that Jiang Cheng was just all tight and unhappy because Zixuan was busy Zixuan-ing all over the place, which is more than enough to mess with anyone’s mood. But Jiang Cheng hasn’t chilled out since Zixuan left. If anything, he’s worse. He hadn’t even tried to participate in bedtime, just kissed a-Yuan on the head and sent him off with everyone else.

Which, like, on the one hand: fair. There were more than enough people putting a-Yuan to bed and bedtime is more of Wen Qing’s thing.

On the other hand: Jiang Cheng is currently collapsed on the couch like he’s a marionette that’s had his strings cut. Something is not right in the state of Jiang Cheng.

Wei Ying hurls himself at the couch and Jiang Cheng doesn’t even make an honest effort at trying to push him off. He wiggles around until he’s managed to get in a comfortable position with his head in Jiang Cheng’s lap.

“What’s wrong?” Wei Ying says, repeatedly poking Jiang Cheng in the side.

“Nothing,” Jiang Cheng says, halfheartedly swiping at Wei Ying.

Well.

That tracks. A Jiang Cheng who readily admits he has a problem needs professional care. So that’s something.

“Are you sure?” Wei Ying says. “Because last time I was here, you were all relaxed and chill and now you’re grinding your teeth.”

“I am not,” Jiang Cheng says, through clenched teeth.

He’s going to have a full set of dentures by the time he’s forty, Wei Ying swears. He reaches up and grips Jiang Cheng’s jaw on either side, where it hinges, until Jiang Cheng loosens, just a little.

“Stop it,” Jiang Cheng says.

“You’re going to crack a tooth, and then you’ll have no one to blame but yourself,” Wei Ying says.

“Is Wen Ning really planning on staying?” Jiang Cheng says.

“In the city?” Wei Ying says. “I don’t know. I hope so. Lan Zhan and I…we haven’t had much time to talk since to him since I donated my bedroom.”

“You’re a terrible host,” Jiang Cheng says.

“He’s a very self-sufficient young man,” Wei Ying says.

Jiang Cheng huffs like he always does when he thinks Wei Ying is caring about the wrong thing. And just like that, being mad at something inconsequential means he’s less focused on whatever he’s for real upset about, and he relaxes. Just the tiniest bit.

Mission…not fully successful, but it’s progress for sure.

“I’m right here,” Wen Ning says.

Wei Ying looks to the side to find that Wen Ning is indeed seated in the adjacent armchair. Wei Ying looks back up at Jiang Cheng, who is looking doubtfully over at Wen Ning and fully tensed up again.

“Spooky,” Wei Ying says.

Jiang Cheng mutters something, but even Wei Ying can’t tell what it was.

Fine.

Talk about being a bad host.

“So. What’s your schedule?” Wei Ying says. “I can’t do anymore surprise babysitting. Planned only, from here on out. I have a life too.”

“It happened literally twice, and once was an emergency,” Jiang Cheng says.

“Yeah, so let’s plan your gym sessions so we don’t have any more emergencies, hm?” Wei Ying says.

He cheeses up at Jiang Cheng in a way that he knows Jiang Cheng finds particularly annoying because Yanli finds it adorable and it always got her on his side when they were growing up.

“Don’t do me any favors,” Jiang Cheng says.

“What are we talking about?” Wen Ning says.

Wei Ying explains about the daycare situation and about how there’s basically no leeway if Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing both have to work late. Honestly, it’s a miracle it only took until recently for them to need a babysitter.

Jiang Cheng must be doing a stupid amount of work from home, or he suddenly got much more efficient.

“It’s fine,” Jiang Cheng says. “We’ve been doing fine, I can handle it.”

“You’re obviously not fine,” Wei Ying says. “You’ve been lying about how fine you were for months. Then you remembered how happy punching things makes you and now you’re extra not fine.”

“That’s not—“ Jiang Cheng says.

“I could do it,” Wen Ning says. “It might get interesting once I figure out a job. But—“

“We’ll pay you,” Wen Qing says, having finally finished putting a-Yuan to bed.

She frowns at where Wei Ying is sitting (sprawled), taking up all the room next to Jiang Cheng, but she can have that space when Wei Ying leaves.

Jiang Cheng is Wei Ying’s brother; Wei Ying came first.

“Yeah, right,” Wen Ning says. “Like I’m going to be the only member of this family that charges for favors.”

Wen Qing ruffles Wen Ning’s hair and sets herself up on the arm of his chair so that they can compare schedules and work out a plan. It sounds like Wei Ying is going to have to give up his key for the time being, which he doesn’t love.

The sacrifices that he makes for this family.

Lan Zhan drifts in while the final details are being sorted out, and Wei Ying reaches towards him with grabby hands. It’s been far too long since Wei Ying has had contact with Lan Zhan, and the look Lan Zhan sends him says that Lan Zhan agrees even though he won’t be obliging Wei Ying’s summons.

Not while he’s draped over Jiang Cheng like this.

“Should we leave?” Wei Ying says, when it sounds like there’s a lull in Wen Qing and Wen Ning’s conversation.

“Yes,” Wen Qing says.

“Wow, okay,” Wen Ning says, laughing.

She apologizes, but it really is time to get going.

As much as Jiang Cheng wants everyone else out of his space, he doesn’t want to be left alone with Wen Qing. If he’s alone with Wen Qing, he’s going to have to apologize for kissing her when he thought no one was there to see it.

Even if she thinks that he knew that Wen Ning was coming in to tell them lunch was ready, he’s going to have to tell her that he didn’t. That he’d kissed her just to kiss her and that he can’t quite bring himself to regret it.

He can’t believe that he’s been freaking out about Wen Qing having an out of their marriage now that Wen Ning is back, and then he went and promptly gave her a fucking reason to use it. Of all the dumbass things he could have done, he had to pick the most self-destructive.

A-Yuan probably wouldn’t even care if there was a custody agreement. He’d spent the whole afternoon picking other people over Jiang Cheng, time and time again. Like, maybe it was because there were new and exciting choices. Maybe he’s just done with Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng walks everyone else out, just to buy himself some time, and seriously considers going to bed. Pleading…whatever. Exhaustion as an excuse. Anything to get out of confessing that he’s a creep and an asshole.

He goes back into the living room, where Wen Qing is happily sprawled out on the couch now that Wei Ying has moved out of her spot. She smiles up at him and moves her feet just slightly out of his spot. Enough so it looks like she’s making room for him, not enough that he can actually sit down without putting her feet into his lap.

She thinks’s she’s so sneaky.

He hesitates in the doorway because that feels about as close as he can safely get to Wen Qing for this conversation. But no. He doesn’t deserve safety. He goes and sits on the couch, arranging himself on the very edge of the cushion on his end so he doesn’t have to push Wen Qing’s feet out of the way.

Takes a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” he says, while she’s still tilting her head quizzically at him.

“For?” she says.

“For kissing you,” he says.

She just…looks at him blankly.

Because him kissing her was such a nonevent for her that she forgot about it?

That’s….probably good. That him kissing her wasn’t traumatic.

He’d appreciate it if she at least remembered it.

“Before lunch,” he says.

“I remember,” Wen Qing says, in that tone that means she thinks he’s an idiot.

“I didn’t know that Wen Ning was there. I just kissed you because I wanted to,” he says.

Jiang Cheng holds his breath and waits for Wen Qing to yell at him, or…anything, really. He’s really good at being panicked about something without having worked out the details.

“Oh,” she says, sitting up straight.

And then seems to blank on any other reaction, just blinking at him like some adorable and dazed woodland creature, with her mouth—

He’s not paying any attention, whatsoever, to her mouth. That’s how he got here.

“If you want to get divorced—“ he says.

“No,” she says, far too quickly to have actually thought about it.

“I crossed a line, and—“

“There’s no line,” she says.

“Of course there’s a line,” Jiang Cheng says, huffing.

He’s been avoiding looking at her directly, so he has very little warning when she decides to make her move. One second she’s sitting a not-quite-safe-but-safe-enough distance away from him, and the next, she’s all the way over on his couch cushion, kneeling at his side, with her arms around his neck, kissing him full on the mouth.

She breaks the kiss before he can really react to it.

“Did I cross a line?” she asks, barely leaning back.

“That’s different,” he says.

“How?”

“I—“ he says.

It’s difficult to focus. She’s still pressed up against him, her arms still around his neck, her mouth still in the vicinity even if she’s done actively kissing him. And he’d reflexively grabbed her with one arm, which is making balancing on the very edge of the couch very difficult.

“Answer the question,” she says, working the fingers of one hand into his hair and tugging.

“Because there’s nothing you could want to do to me that I wouldn’t want you to do to me,” Jiang Cheng says, gritting his teeth.

Wen Qing lets go of his hair and massages at his jaw, reminding him to loosen up before he really does crack a tooth.

“I trust you too,” she says, pressing a kiss against his cheek that is somehow less distracting that the tease of one. “Do you want to kiss me again?”

Every instinct that Jiang Cheng has is screaming that that’s a trap.

“It’s not a trap,” she says.

Instead of answering, Jiang Cheng finishes sliding off of the couch and can’t even break his fall because he has to throw his arms up to try and make sure that Wen Qing does’t smash her face into the coffee table.

“Shit,” she says, climbing off of Jiang Cheng almost immediately. “Did you hit your head?”

“No,” Jiang Cheng says.

“Are you sure?”

She runs her hands over the back of his head, looking intently into his eyes in a way that’s very annoying because it’s clearly Doctor Wen Qing.

See? Fucking trap.

“I’m absolutely certain that I hit ass first,” he says.

She hesitates, biting her lip.

“I could check that too,” she says.

“Ha. Ha,” Jiang Cheng says.

He turns on his side, pulling Wen Qing back down and backing her up against the couch, trapping her someplace where they can have the rest of this conversation face-to-face.

“Yes,” he says.

“Yes, I should check on your ass?” she says.

Deep breath.

“Yes, I want to kiss you again.”

“Then why don’t you?”

Deeper breath.

“I don’t want to be friends who fuck and are fake married,” Jiang Cheng says. “I want to be real married, or I want to stay how we’ve been.”

“You know marriage isn’t defined by sex, right?” Wen Qing says.

“So?”

“So if I tell you that we already are real married, will you kiss me?” Wen Qing says.

“I love you,” Jiang Cheng says, like it’s a reason not to kiss her.

“I love you, too,” Wen Qing says, like that’s something he really should have figured out earlier in the conversation.

He probably should have. Jiang Cheng has never been good at subtext, especially when it’s something that he wants. He’s always convinced he must be reading everything all wrong.

“Oh,” he says.

And when she smiles at him, he kisses her before she can start to laugh. And then he kisses her some more, just for the sheer joy of it. When he does pull away, she follows, starting some kissing of her own.

It’s magic right up until they hear a-Yuan’s door open and he comes running down the hall. They really only have enough time to brace for impact as a-Yuan jumps on top of them.

“Hey, man,” Jiang Cheng says, recovering first. “I didn’t hear you wake up.”

A-Yuan, firmly of the impression that he belongs in the middle at all times, as both safety and tradition dictate, worms his way in between Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing, which pushes Jiang Cheng up against the coffee table in a number of painful ways.

They’d considered getting rid of the coffee table when they were trying to figure out what toddler safety meant, and Jiang Cheng is beginning to regret fighting for it.

“Jingyi said that monsters can travel in shadows, so I had to be sneaky to escape,” a-Yuan says.

Naturally. The little punk. Always causing trouble. Monsters hadn’t even been on a-Yuan’s radar before they’d met.

“Ah, well,” Jiang Cheng says.

He doesn’t have anything to follow that up with, he just feels like it’s important that a-Yuan knows that they heard him.

“Maybe we should look into monster-proofing your room,” Wen Qing says.

A-Yuan shrugs, and snuggles in a little closer to Jiang Cheng, erasing every single snub that Jiang Cheng had to endure over the course of the day. A-Yuan might like playing with everyone else, but Jiang Cheng is who he clings to when he’s having trouble sleeping.

That means something.

Wen Qing is in the living room with Jiang Cheng and a-Yuan when the doorbell rings. Jiang Cheng goes to answer it and Wen Qing tries to focus on the plan a-Yuan has come up with for monster-proofing his room.

It involves a lot of lasers, so she doesn’t think it’s going to work.

She glances up when Jiang Cheng comes back into the room and has to do a double-take when she sees who’s accompanying him.

She doesn’t know who she thought it was. Wei Ying will absolutely show up without advance notice, but he spent all day yesterday here and he’s preoccupied with Lan Zhan at the moment.

Maybe she was hoping for Wen Ning.

Instead, she gets her in-laws.

They don’t look particularly unhappy, or like they came here to fight. Wen Qing refocuses on Jiang Cheng and his face looks all wrong. All buttoned up and closed down. Just like when they all had dinner together. Just like when he had dinner with them alone.

Right.

Wen Qing doesn’t know if they’ve already had a showdown or if this is just the effect they have on him. Either way, she’s not having it.

“How about you go draw us a picture of what that should look like?” Wen Qing says to a-Yuan.

He nods enthusiastically and runs off to his room, where hopefully he’ll stay for at least a few minutes, because Wen Qing is about to be a Very bad influence.

“Let me go get you some water,” Wen Qing says, getting up off the floor and heading for the kitchen without really…waiting for an answer.

When she gets back into the living room, they’re still all just standing there awkwardly.

Maybe they actually came to see her. Maybe they’ve decided to apologize the way Jiang Cheng wanted them too.

Whatever. She doesn’t care. It’s convenient this way, that’s all. She doesn’t want to have to try and dry off any of the furniture.

Wen Qing throws a glass full of water in each of their faces without any further consideration for what she’s doing. Jiang Cheng’s dad sputters; his mom deliberately wipes the water off of her face and fixes Wen Qing with an icy stare.

If she declares that she and Wen Qing are now enemies, Wen Qing will tell her that it’s too late, that they were enemies the minute she started working on Jiang Cheng’s inferiority complex.

“What,” Jiang Cheng’s mom says, “was that?”

“My response to all of your ridiculous accusations,” Wen Qing says. “The other week.”

“It couldn’t have been that insulting,” Jiang Cheng’s mom says. “If you waited all this time.”

“I’ve been busy,” Wen Qing says.

There’s a noise that Wen Qing can’t quite place, and when she looks over at Jiang Cheng he’s turned all the way around, with a hand clasped tightly over his mouth.

He’s laughing. She just possibly mortally offended his mother and he’s laughing.

(That’s a relief. She wasn’t sure how this was going to go. Like, she was pretty sure he would think it was funny privately; she did not expect him to start laughing more or less in his mother’s face.)

“Can we start over, or should I go get some more water?” Wen Qing says.

“Start over how far back?” Jiang Cheng’s dad says.

He has a twinkle in his eye, like he’s starting to see the humor in the situation.

“When you decided I must have ulterior motives for marrying your son?” Wen Qing says. “Before that.”

“Hm,” Jiang Cheng’s mom says.

It’s not a no, so Wen Qing decides to treat it as a yes. She hands each of them a kitchen towel that she had thrown over her shoulder while getting the water.

“Hi, I’m Wen Qing, and I’m sorry for the unorthodox introduction, but I’m in love with your son,” Wen Qing says. “We were friends for years before we got together, since I was your other son’s lab partner in college. I know we got off on the wrong foot, what with not inviting everyone to the wedding, but we’d like to fix that.”

Wen Qing sticks her hand out, and after a long moment (slightly longer for Jiang Cheng’s mother) they both agree to shake it.

“Maybe we can have a party on our anniversary,” Wen Qing says.

“I want a full ceremony with a vow renewal,” Jiang Cheng’s mom says. “And I want control of the guest list.”

“You can have input on the guest list,” Wen Qing says.

“I want a grandchild,” Jiang Cheng’s mom says.

“You—“ Jiang Cheng says.

“I want another grandchild,” Jiang Cheng’s mom says to him. “I’m expecting atleast two from each of you.”

“Not until after I finish my residency,” Wen Qing says, and Jiang Cheng coughs next to her.

A-Yuan comes charging back into the living room as Wen Qing and Jiang Cheng’s mom are shaking hands again.

“I finished it!” a-Yuan says, waving a paper up at them.

Wen Qing takes it and looks it over. Not a single laser, as far as she can tell. Not that it’s always easy to tell what he’s drawn. He’s still very much in a scribbly stage of drawing.

“Is that a bunk bed?” she says.

“Yeah,” a-Yuan says. “I can sleep on the top and Jiang Cheng can sleep on the bottom and protect me!”

“Oh, well, that’s—“ Jiang Cheng says.

“No,” Wen Qing says.

A-Yuan pouts up at her, but she will not fold. A-Yuan can invade their bedroom as much as he likes, but he’s not dragging Jiang Cheng out of it.

“A-Yuan,” Jiang Cheng’s dad says.

Wen Qing, Jiang Cheng, and a-Yuan all turn towards the voice as one, having forgotten that they have an audience. They look like they’re trying to be approachable.

“We bought a book we thought you might like to read with us,” Jiang Cheng’s dad says, pulling a wrapped package out of a bag that Wen Qing hadn’t noticed.

Thankfully she didn’t throw enough water to get it wet.

A-Yuan hesitates a little, playing shy and hooking an arm around Jiang Cheng’s knee while he thinks about it. Jiang Cheng’s dad nudges Jiang Cheng’s mom (Wen Qing is really going to have to find something else to call them) and Jiang Cheng’s mom pulls a small handful of something out of her purse.

“We also brought some candy,” she says.

A-Yuan drops all hesitation and darts across the room, investigating the candy before moving on to unwrap his present, going back to the candy partway through like he thinks it might disappear.

“I don’t like how fast he went for that, at all,” Wen Qing says.

The stranger danger safety campaigns of their childhood have been proven to be mostly bogus, but surely some wariness around strangers is merited.

“He’s met them before and they’re in our apartment,” Jiang Cheng says. “We’re literally watching and not stopping him. That’s as good as permission.”

“Hm,” Wen Qing says.

A-Yuan pulls his maybe grandparents over to the couch so they can read his new book to him in maximum comfort and Jiang Cheng pulls Wen Qing out of the living room, pressing her up against the wall and kissing her breathless once they’ve edged all the way around the corner.

“What was that for?” she asks, when he pulls back.

“You went up against my mom,” he says.

“I won against your mom,” she says.

He laughs.

“I wouldn’t count her out just yet, but here’s hoping,” he says.

“She’s not going to want to spend the time it would take to get rid of me, get you over me, and get you married to someone else if she can just get the grandkids from me,” she says.

“About that—” Jiang Cheng says.

“Only if you want,” Wen Qing says, quickly. “We have time to think about it.”

“Siblings are important,” Jiang Cheng says, carefully.

“Exactly,” Wen Qing says.

He smiles at her, sweet enough to make her teeth hurt, and she smiles back, wrapping her arms up around his neck and pulling their foreheads together.

“What if we got a dog?” he asks.

Wait.

What?

“What?” she says.

“For a-Yuan. A guard dog, for the monsters. It can sleep in his room with him.”

“I’m not saying no,” Wen Qing says. “But. Will Wei Ying come over if there’s a dog here?”

She doesn’t know the details, but Wei Ying doesn’t like dogs. Never has. Even among all the nonsense that was them moving out last year, she remembers Jiang Cheng threatening to give Wei Ying’s room to a pack of dogs to make sure that Wei Ying never came back.

Jiang Cheng shrugs and kisses her.

“We can talk to him about it first,” he says. “But maybe? If it’s for a-Yuan?”

“I’m sorry, did we get married so you would have an excuse to get a dog?” Wen Qing says, laughing.

“Oh no, you caught me,” Jiang Cheng says.

Wen Qing kisses him this time, and then tucks her face in against his neck. She breathes in and bites him, just a little.

(Chlorine and sunblock, every fucking time.)

“Caught you,” she says.

He squeezes her extra tight. She’s been caught too.