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It’s December twenty-third.
And Nie Mingjue is going to straight-up murder someone.
Yet another asshole elbows him as he shoves past, and the two children in front of him have decided that the middle of a crowded mall is a great place to have a good old-fashioned sibling brawl. Nie Mingjue tries to step around them, but there’s a woman, around eight months pregnant, in the way with her own set of belligerent toddlers—and Nie Mingjue isn’t heartless. The fighting childrens’ parents finally pry the gremlins away from one another, stopping in the middle of the crowded aisle to give a loud, threatening lecture that Nie Mingjue would report to child protective services if the kids weren’t total assholes.
The soft touch of a hand on his bicep, even through the thickness of his coat, gives Nie Mingjue pause before he can yell at them to move. He turns his head toward Lan Huan, who flashes an easy smile and links their arms together, deftly stepping around the obstruction with a natural grace that always leaves Mingjue feeling equal parts enamored and mystified. Lan Huan smiles at the hellions’ mother, and she gawks at him while they pass, even as her partner continues his tirade at the children.
Meng Yao trails closely behind.
Lan Huan leads the way to the food court, and the three manage to find a table that isn’t occupied and/or left filthy by previous users. They sit, happy to be off their feet for a minute. Their bags wind up either on the floor or at the center of the table, and Nie Mingjue takes this time to quietly look over the pretty trinkets he found for Huaisang. His real gift for Huaisang is a(n extremely expensive) pottery lesson with one of the province’s most renowned artists, but he also wanted him to have something physical to open on the day of Christmas, hence the last-minute shopping trip. Lan Huan had enthusiastically agreed to accompany him, which Mingjue was grateful for.
If only Lan Huan hadn’t insisted on bringing Meng Yao along.
There was once a time when Nie Mingjue thought highly of Meng Yao, who was quick-witted and, so Mingjue thought, honorable. In the intervening years, however, Meng Yao has proven himself time and time again to be nothing but a snake. He may have Lan Huan fooled, but Nie Mingjue won’t be tricked again so easily.
Lan Huan sighs heavily. “I wish I would have gotten that calendar for A-Zhan.”
They had ventured into a calendar store earlier, and one in particular had caught Lan Huan’s eye. It was black and nondescript, with an interesting graphic depiction of the head of a rabbit wearing a bowtie. Nie Mingjue can appreciate that it was pretty cute, but like Lan Huan, he doesn’t understand why it was wrapped in plastic, or why the back doesn’t show the images used for each month like other calendars do.
Meng Yao hums, avoiding Lan Huan’s eye. “They’ve probably sold out by now.”
“You’re right. There was only one when we were there earlier,” says Lan Huan sadly. “It’s probably gone.”
“We could go back and check,” Nie Mingjue suggests.
Lan Huan considers this. “I wouldn’t want to make you both go all the way back with me.”
“Oh, well…” Meng Yao still won’t meet anyone’s eye. “Best to forget…”
“I’ll go back by myself!” Lan Huan suddenly announces, determination in his eyes. He’s already getting out of his seat. “You two just wait here. It won’t take but a few minutes.”
“But…” Nie Mingjue trails off, an abrupt realization dawning upon him.
If Lan Huan goes off on his own, Nie Mingjue will be able to go back to a kiosk they visited earlier, one that’s selling the perfect gift for Lan Huan.
“Text me when you’re on your way back,” he says slowly, tamping down on the glee bubbling up inside him.
“Er-ge, maybe you should get Lan Zhan something else,” Meng Yao tries again. Nie Mingjue doesn’t know what game he’s playing. “Don’t you think he’ll be content with the other things you bought for him?”
“Oh, I’m sure he will, but a bunny calendar is a gift he can enjoy year-round. I’ll be back in a little while.”
Before Meng Yao can get out another word, Lan Huan has already melded back into the crowd. Nie Mingjue waits for him to disappear, then stands, picking up his bags.
“Da-ge, where are you going?” asks Meng Yao.
“I’m going back for something as well. You stay here.”
Before Nie Mingjue has made it five steps, Meng Yao is in front of him, his eyes narrowed into slits. “You’re going back to that one kiosk aren’t you?”
Nie Mingjue grunts, neither confirming or denying, and shoulders past him. He doesn’t owe an explanation to anyone, least of all Meng Yao.
But Meng Yao is determined not to let him out of sight. “Let me pay for half of it,” he offers, apparently thinking himself generous.
“No.”
“But, da-ge—”
“No.” Nie Mingjue lengthens his stride and quickens his step, but Meng Yao basically jogs to keep pace.
Meng Yao is oddly quiet for a moment, then says, barely loud enough to be heard over the din of the crowded mall, “Very well, then.”
He breaks into a full run, and, instantly aware of what he’s doing, Nie Mingjue also speeds up into a sprint. While Meng Yao darts in and out of the crowd, Nie Mingjue just shoves people out of his way. He can almost feel Lan Huan’s disapproval, but damn it! Desperate times call for desperate measures, and the bloodlust is so potent he can taste it on his tongue.
A line of kiosks are stationed in the mall’s atrium, and one in particular has exactly what Nie Mingjue is after. They were here about an hour ago, and one item had caught Lan Huan’s eye. It was a vividly blue crystal gentian with delicate-looking silver leaves and stem attached to a clear crystal “vase” that served as the base. Lan Huan’s breath had caught when his eyes landed on it, and since Nie Mingjue is always watching Lan Huan, he couldn’t miss the way his expression lit up.
“How much for that?” Nie Mingjue asked the attendant, nodding toward the flower.
It was expensive.
Very expensive.
If there’s one thing in the world that Lan Huan doesn’t want for, it’s money, but he also refuses to splurge on things he doesn’t need. After being told the price of the knick-knack, Lan Huan declined the attendant’s offer to pull it out of the glass case for him to look at it. He smiled, but it was clear that he really, really wanted it.
Nie Mingjue made a mental note to find something similar to buy Lan Huan for his birthday, but he hadn’t thought that he would actually have a chance to go back the same day for this very flower. Lan Huan excusing himself to get that calendar for Lan Zhan is really too perfect of a cover for Nie Mingjue to buy the thing guaranteed to win him over. Who knows—maybe Lan Huan will even recognize it for the romantic gesture it is, and he’ll finally realize, after years of pining, that Mingjue could be more than a friend.
Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao arrive at the kiosk at the same time. Pushing their way to the counter with elbows and teeth, they both shout for the attendant, who looks equal parts bewildered and aggravated. Nie Mingjue catches her eye first and raises his hand to wave her over. He’s all but won—
“Ah!” Meng Yao suddenly doubles over in pain, clutching at his chest. “I think—da-ge—I think I’m having a heart attack! P–please!”
Mingjue freezes. Despite his bluster and general loathing of the human race, he is not a terrible person. So, he immediately drops everything to catch Meng Yao right as his knees buckle. “Shit, are you alright?” He turns to the crowd of onlookers. “Someone call a—”
All the air is punched from Nie Mingjue’s lungs, excruciating pain making his knees buckle. However, no one catches him before he falls—because Meng Yao was the one to punch him in the balls with as much force as he could muster.
“Apologies, da-ge,” Meng Yao says in a low voice that speaks volumes to his true, conniving character. He doesn’t sound remorseful in the slightest. “I really had no other choice.”
Nie Mingjue’s kidneys feel like they are in a twist, the pain agonizing and relentless, and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t pull himself to his feet. He’s helpless but to watch with tears gathered in the corners of his eyes as Meng Yao hands the cash to the attendant, who looks absolutely terrified by the events that have unfolded in front of her kiosk today. Her hands seem to shake as she wraps the crystal flower in bubble wrap, puts it into a plain white box, and hands it to Meng Yao.
With a final smirk in Nie Mingjue’s direction, Meng Yao vanishes into the crowd.
It takes a long time for Nie Mingjue to pull himself to his feet. For the first time all day, the people surrounding him give him a wide berth, terrified by the unbridled fury in his expression. Nie Mingjue takes a series of deep breaths, collecting himself and his bags, then stomps off in the direction Meng Yao headed. His phone buzzes once in his pocket, but he doesn’t pay it any mind.
After a few minutes of searching, he finds Meng Yao standing near the top of an escalator. He has taken Lan Huan’s gift out of the box and is admiring it as a couple wearing matching scarves step around him. His smug, victorious smile makes Nie Mingjue’s blood grow even hotter with rage.
Two things happen at once:
“Da-ge! San-di!” Lan Xichen’s sweet, oblivious voice cuts through the racket of other people.
And Nie Mingjue lifts his foot. And kicks.
Meng Yao’s eyes go impossibly wide as he’s sent flying from the force of the blow. The crystal gentian shatters on the moving stairs, hitting them half a second after Meng Yao’s body. He tumbles several times, the momentum carrying him halfway down the ascending steps. Thankfully, the escalator is otherwise empty.
Meng Yao never reaches the bottom.
“Da-ge!” Lan Huan is now at Nie Mingjue’s side. “What on earth is going on now?!”
Nie Mingjue would feel bad for making Lan Huan fret, but all he feels is sweet, sweet vindication.