Chapter Text
On an otherwise unremarkable long weekend in the middle of term, Lan Wangji takes the train home to Cloud Recesses. He normally wouldn’t make the trip for such a short stay, but his uncle has asked to see him, and as Lan Qiren is neither frivolous nor sentimental, Lan Wangji assumes that he has a good reason for wanting to speak in person. He isn’t overly anxious about what might necessitate such a serious conversation – his studies, now as in his undergraduate career, are progressing smoothly, and neither he nor his small circle of friends have done anything remotely gossipworthy of late – and so assumes it’s either regarding his brother’s upcoming birthday or some matter of clan politics too delicate for a regular phonecall.
In a sense, he turns out to be right.
“Wangji,” says Lan Qiren, once they’re kneeling comfortably at a low table and two cups of tea have been poured. “Let me speak plainly. In this modern world, the clans and cultivation sects play a different role than once they did, but the bonds between us are just as important as ever.”
“Mn.”
“These bonds can be strengthened in many ways, but one of the most venerable is through marriage and the creation of blood-ties.”
Warning bells start to ring in Lan Wangji’s head.
“For too long,” Lan Qiren continues, oblivious, “the Lan have failed to make marital connections with the other sects. We have been isolated, and this must not continue. I have thought deeply on this matter, and after consulting with Jin Guangshan, acting in his capacity as head of the LanlingJin, and having made the proper consultations with her family, we have decided that you would be an excellent match for one of his best disciples, Luo Qingyang.”
Lan Wangji, who up until this point has only ever met his uncle’s requests with demure acceptance or a polite request for more information, jerks like a heavy fish on a too-thin line and says, “What?”
“Luo Qingyang,” says Lan Qiren, a frown appearing between his eyebrows. “We would like you to marry her.”
“Why?” And then, because he can see his uncle is about to repeat his explanation about strengthening ties with the LanlingJin, “I mean, why me?”
“Ah.” Lan Qiren smiles faintly. “You mean, why not your elder brother?”
No, thinks Wan Wangji wildly, I mean, why any of this at all? But he forces himself to nod, drymouthed.
“Two reasons,” says Lan Qiren, raising a hand to tick them off on his fingers. “Firstly, because I hope to find a more illustrious match for Xichen, who after all is heir to both the Lan Clan and the GusuLan Sect. I mean no slight to Luo Qingyang, of course – she is both an accomplished cultivator and a suitably modest young woman – but the Luo are not one of the major clans, and I have hopes that Xichen might net us a different sort of alliance. And secondly, because you and Miss Luo already know and like one other. You were classmates at school, you have friends in common, and that sort of connection is a sturdy basis for marital harmony.”
Lan Wangji resists the childish urge to close his eyes in the vain hope that this will somehow make the conversation stop happening. True, he’s on good terms with Luo Qingyang, better known to her friends as Mianmian, but that’s more due to their shared friendship with Jin Zixuan than because of any innate compatibility, and as for the rest of it –
“Uncle. With the greatest respect, why do we need to strengthen ties with the Jin in this manner? I understand the importance of alliances, but surely –”
He breaks off, distracted by the sudden mad buzzing of his phone in response to an incoming volley of texts. Very few people ever text Lan Wangji, let alone with such persistence, and he has an awful premonition that his uncle’s plans are no longer secret. Is Mianmian, too, being subjected to such an awful conversation even now, or is she yet to have it sprung on her? She can’t have known; they aren’t close, but he knows her well enough to be certain that she wouldn’t let him be blindsided by something like this.
“Surely what?” prompts Lan Qiren, frowning at Lan Wangji’s silence.
“Surely there’s a better way to ally our sects, in this day and age. Shared indoctrinations, perhaps, or disciple exchanges –”
“Wangji,” says Lan Qiren, sternly. “Speak to me plainly. What is your real objection?”
Lan Wangji takes a steadying breath. “I do not wish to be married. Not like this, and certainly not to Mianmian. I esteem her as much as I esteem anyone, but such a union would render us both miserable. It will not work. It cannot.” He meets his uncle’s furious gaze. “I politely decline the match.”
Face like a thundercloud, Lan Qiren snaps, “And on what basis, pray, do you claim that such an advantageous marriage is unworkable?”
“Uncle,” says Lan Wangji, hands fisted to keep from trembling, “I’m gay.”
Lan Qiren turns first red, then purple.
And then he starts to yell.
His tirade is about piety, about moral upheaval, about sexual deviance and right behaviour and the importance of blood-ties to lineage, but Lan Wangji, for the first time in his life, remains immovable before his uncle’s will. Stonefaced, he buries his hurt, his rage, and says only, “Respectfully, I still decline. I will not marry her,” until finally Lan Qiren runs out of invective and rasps at him to leave.
Lan Wangji exits his uncle’s study at a controlled, measured pace. He walks to his childhood room, repacks the bag he brought with him, collects his sword, Bichen, and flies himself down the mountain to the train station in Caiyi Town. He buys a ticket, relieved beyond measure to find that the next train is just a few minutes away, and only once he is safely seated inside, his carriage gliding smoothly away from Cloud Recesses, does he take a shaky breath and pull out his phone.
Jin Zixuan: oh fuck I’m so sorry
Jin Zixuan: please don’t kill me this isn’t my fault I HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS I SWEAR I ONLY JUST FOUND OUT
Jin Zixuan: LITERALLY I JUST GOT HOME AND MY MOM WAS LIKE “GREAT NEWS! YOUR SECT-SISTER IS GOING TO MARRY YOUR BEST FRIEND!” AND SHE DIDN’T EVEN BLINK
Jin Zixuan: MIANMIAN IS SEEING HER PARENTS RIGHT NOW, PRAY 4 HER
Jin Zixuan: WHY MUST WE LIVE IN THE DARKEST TIMELINE
Jin Zixuan: PLEASE TELL ME YOU’RE NOT DOING THIS WANGJI I SWEAR TO GOD
Jin Zixuan: IM NOT TAKING OFF CAPSLOCK UNTIL YOU TELL ME YOU AREN’T DOING THIS
Jin Zixuan: LOVE YOURSELF WANGJI PLS I BEG
Jin Zixuan: IF YOU DO THIS THEY’LL THINK THEY CAN MARRY OFF THE REST OF US TOO AND I WILL NOT STAND FOR IT
Jin Zixuan: HELP ME WANGJI-LAN KENOBI YOU’RE MY ONLY HOPE
Under ordinary circumstances, Lan Wangji isn’t a fan of phone conversations, but this is very much the opposite of an ordinary anything. He phones Jin Zixuan, who mercifully picks up on the second ring, and says, without preamble, “I’m not doing it. Uncle is furious.”
“Oh thank fuck,” says Jin Zixuan. Lan Wangji can hear him drinking from a bottle, and for once does not begrudge him the coping mechanism. “What did you tell him? What did you say?”
Lan Wangji shuts his eyes. “I told him that I’m gay.”
Jin Zixuan lets out a shocked burst of laughter. “Holy shit, you what? Like, I understand panicking in the heat of the moment, but you do realise that excuse isn’t going to wash the second you bring home a girl for real, right?”
“It’s not an excuse,” says Lan Wangji. Dimly, he’s aware that he’s shaking, and grips his phone case far too hard by way of compensation. “I’m. I really am gay.”
One beat of silence. Two. Three. Then –
“Oh my god,” says Jin Zixuan. “You’re serious? You – really?”
“Really.”
“Fuck.” And then, with feeling, “Fuck, I didn’t mean it like that, I just – I’m surprised, but also supportive, and also, like, proud of you? Is that a thing? But also really pissed on your behalf, because I can’t imagine that telling your uncle was easy, or that he took it well.”
Lan Wangji leans his head on the window, the thick glass cool against his temple. “It wasn’t. He didn’t.”
“Fuck.”
“Mn.”
They share a moment of silence. Jin Zixuan takes another swig of whatever he’s drinking and then says, more hesitantly, “Did other people know? About you liking men, I mean – not that you, like, owed it to me to come out before this or anything, but if I ever did anything to make you think I’d be a dick about it, then –”
“Nobody knew,” says Lan Wangji quietly. And then, because there’s no point hiding it anymore, “Or at least, nobody who actually knows me knew. I have had… partners, at times, but no real relationships.”
“Lan Zhan,” says Jin Zixuan, scandalized and delighted. “Are you telling me you’ve been indulging in casual hookups?”
“Sexual needs are nothing to be ashamed of,” Lan Wangji says primly, and tries to pretend that his ears aren’t burning. “I knew that Uncle wouldn’t accept me, so it didn’t feel right, to try and date while I was closeted.”
“Oh.”
“Mn.”
“I fucking hate this, Wangji.”
“Me, too.”
“Wait, hang on – where’s your brother in all of this? What did he say?”
With a lurch, Lan Wangji realizes he didn’t even think to tell Xichen he was leaving Cloud Recesses. “I don’t know,” he says, stomach churning. “Uncle threw me out of his office and I just – left.”
“You should talk to him,” he says. “He’s always been cool about stuff, he’ll have your back – oh, fuck, hang on.” There’s a burst of scratchy static as the phone is presumably pressed against Jin Zixuan’s chest, but the muffled sound of distant shouting and a door being slammed still comes through. There’s a moment’s silence, and then Jin Zixuan speaks again. “Well, I’m guessing Mianmian reacted about as well as you did. My dad is pissed. I’m gonna call her, make sure she’s okay.”
“Please do,” says Lan Wangji. “Give her my number, too, if she wants it – if we’re both against this, we ought to fight it together.”
“Will do. See you on Tuesday, all right?”
“Tuesday,” Lan Wangji promises, and ends the call.
He zones out then, mind blanking on the fact that he just defied his uncle, refused a marriage and came out to, for all intents and purposes, the entire cultivation world in the space of a single argument. There’s a hum of anxiety low in his gut, but mostly he feels a strange, detached sort of serenity: the worst has happened, and Lan Wangji has survived it.
When his phone rings again, he’s both relieved and unsurprised to see that it’s Xichen calling.
“Brother,” he says, voice scratchy with relief. “I’m so sorry –”
“You have nothing to apologise for,” says Lan Xichen. He’s not a man much given to temper, but Lan Wangji can hear the telltale heat that means he’s truly angry. “I can’t believe Uncle would spring this on you – demand this of you, with no preamble –”
“He said he wants you to marry, too.”
Xichen swears softly. “Does he not see the irony in a man who’s stayed single his entire life insisting on marriage for others?”
“Apparently not.”
“Wangji,” asks Xichen, softly. “You’re gay?”
Swallowing, Lan Wangji nods, then realizes his brother can’t see him. “You overheard?”
“I think half of Cloud Recesses did. Uncle was… not discreet.”
Lan Wangji winces, shutting his eyes. The train sways beneath him, and he lets himself pretend its motion alone is responsible for the way his stomach swoops. “How bad is it?”
“Truly, not as bad as whatever you’re thinking. Nobody who matters is against you.”
Lan Wangji makes a small, relieved noise, and on the other end of the line, he hears Xichen sigh.
“Wangji, I have to go. Uncle is looking for me.”
“Don’t let him bully you,” Lan Wangji says, and is rewarded by Xichen’s laughter.
“I won’t. Travel safely, brother.”
“You, too.”
Lan Wangji hangs up, phone cradled in his hands. He feels emptied out, unable to quite accept how he reached this point despite the clear chain of events. What was Uncle thinking? He doesn’t know, and isn’t sure he wants to.
So he turns off his phone, tucks Bichen securely between his thigh and the carriage wall, and spends the rest of the ride back home in silence.