a while ago I asked if anyone would want to see a preview first chapter of thirteen years. this is not that. what you do get however is jiang wanyinâs drunk adventure, revised and written with love
Jiang Wanyin is drunk, Lan Zhan eventually comes to realize. He watches him from across the table in an attempt to reconcile with this truth. They arenât within the confines of the Cloud Recesses and Jiang Wanyin is dressed mostly inconspicuously. Consequences for the circumstances are therefore unlikely.
So Jiang Wanyin is... drunk. Sitting lopsidedly, his head swaying side to side to a beat that Lan Zhan cannot hear, and smiling. A content smile that fits disarmingly well with his sharp features. His cheeks are flushed, eyes bright. There are a few strands of hair framing his face. Lan Zhan starts, realizing he may be staring a bit too intently.
I will get both myself and Jiang Wanyin through this evening with subtlety and patience. Great patience. And subtlety. We will be very subtle.
Jiang Wanyin is drunk, and Lan Zhan is fine.
Except Jiang Wanyin is now also much, much too close to Lan Zhanâs face.
âI feel like I can see you better like this,â Jiang Wanyin announces, grinning lopsidedly with a look in his eyes that indicates that his behavior is an intentional decision made to bother him.
Lan Zhan stares at him, unimpressed. He has to fight to keep his eyes from crossing.
Jiang Wanyin sighs exaggeratedly, the scent of alcohol drifting into Lan Zhanâs face, and drawls, dialect heavy, âI mean, your expressions are clearer, this way. Itâs nice.â He sits back and stretches. âItâs fun to figure out what youâre thinking, you know. Right now, for example,â he lifts his cup to cover his mouth, sharp eyes belying his demeanor, âI think you kind of want me dead.â
Jiang Wanyin is an uninhibited drunk, Lan Zhan observes flatly. Their waiter returns, refilling their pot to Lan Zhanâs chagrin. âSo how do these two esteemed patrons know each other?â
Jiang Wanyin points at himself with an affronted frown, as if he is shocked to find that he wasnât recognized on sight. He opens his mouth to speak, eyebrows furrowed, and Lan Zhan senses that whatever is going to come out of Jiang Wanyinâs mouth will become a hindrance on the subtlety that he has somehow managed to maintain so far.
âSan-â was all he was able to voice before Lan Zhan places the silencing spell on him. Jiang Wanyin mppfâs with a roll of his eyes.
Lan Zhan suppresses a long-suffering sigh before speaking, âThird meeting.â
The waiter blinks vacantly, âMeeting?â
Lan Zhan sits, comprehending his own graceless lie.
Mn. I have made a terrible mistake.
His ears have begun prickling as his words finish sinking in. Lan Zhan imagines this is the feeling a man possessed would experience after being gifted a small shovel and with it dedicating himself to digging an unending pit. Or perhaps a grave. He looks over Jiang Wanyinâs shoulder, unable to make eye contact. âCourtship,â he finally adds, having resigned to lowering himself further into the dirt.
Their waiter smiles indulgently at his answer and retreats, surely taking with him whatever remained of Lan Zhanâs pride.
The silencing spell must have worn off, for Jiang Wanyin yawns and points at him, accusatory. âLan Wangji, you havenât been sneaking drinks when I wasnât looking, have you?â he asks suspiciously.
Lan Zhan, still avoiding eye contact but at least confident in this, replies, âI have not.â
Jiang Wanyin squints at him, âAre you sure?â Lan Zhan knows he would have fallen asleep by now if he had, and so he nods, absently taking note of the cracks in the ceiling.
âThen why are your ears so red?â Jiang Wanyin asks, voice earnestly curious. In the corner of Lan Zhanâs eye he can see that Jiang Wanyin is leaning forward again. He avoids eye contact with him more insistently.
A moment passes. âLan Wangji, are you listening to me?â
Another moment. âHanguang-Jun, itâs rude to ignore someone whoâs talking to you. Surely thatâs one of your rules?â
It is. One copy of Virtue as punishment. The silence stretches, taut. Lan Zhan should have been expecting recoil.
âGege.â Lan Zhan freezes. He finally turns his head to see Jiang Wanyin grinning triumphantly. He feels his previous embarrassment grow twice its size, creeping down into his shoulders from his ears. âSo you heard me that time, huh?â
âI was not ignoring Jiang Wanyin.â
I was. Lan Zhan, in lieu of responding, covers his face with his hands.
âWhy are your ears turning even more red, gege?â
âJiang Wanyin, we are in public,â Lan Zhan says, muffled.
Lan Zhan is suddenly blessed with silence. He can almost see Jiang Wanyin thinking; he imagines itâs another scowl, though with a scholarly dignity and focus.
Xiongzhang would never allow me to forget the amount of time I must have spent with Jiang Wanyin to picture that so vividly.
The energy in the air shifts, faintly colder. âGege, look at me, please.â
Jiang Wanyin is shaving years off my life. Lan Zhan does not look.
âPlease, look at me.â
Lan Zhanâs hands twitch, but he does not look.
âLan Wangji, please,â and Lan Zhan is only so strong willed, so he moves his hands and he sees...
Jiang Wanyin frowning, though itâs different than before. âAm I that embarrassing to be seen with?â he asks, voice bitter and expression unreadable.
It is very sudden, the way Lan Zhan feels profoundly lost. âJiang Wanyin is not embarassing.â
Jiang Wanyin takes another pause. He looks up at the ceiling, jaw clenched, and Lan Zhan can see now that he was right about Jiang Wanyinâs thinking scowl.
A hiccup punctures the silence, and Lan Zhan is reminded with a sharp jolt that Jiang Wanyin is drunk. He would not be so forthcoming otherwise. He feels as if his head has just surfaced above water.
Jiang Wanyin huffs, face turned down now, his face relaxing but eyes remaining sharp. Lan Zhan almost doesnât hear him when he asks, startlingly quiet, âLan Wangji, I donât think I really hate you.â
Lan Zhan tenses, panicked. âJiang Wanyin.â
Jiang Wanyin continues unhindered, a warped smile taking the place of his previous frowns, âI donât think I want you to hate me, either. Iâm scared that,â he laughs scornfully, âIâm scared that Iâll become so cruel and unpleasant that no one will care enough to uncover the parts of me that are worth knowing anymore.â
The words remain simmering in the humid evening air, and Lan Zhan is horrified to see tears rolling down Jiang Wanyinâs cheeks. Lan Zhan carefully eases his cup, now empty, away from the teardrops on the table.
âI donât hate Jiang Wanyin,â Lan Zhan states, as gently as he can. âNot going anywhere.â
Jiang Wanyin looks up, although Lan Zhan canât be sure that Jiang Wanyin really sees him through the tears that are still spilling down his cheeks.
Jiang Wanyin is very beautiful, says his useless brain, even through the pang of sympathy that lances through his chest. Two copies of Virtue.
Jiang Wanyin whispers mournfully, âI donât want A-Ling to grow to resent me.â
A lump forms in Lan Zhanâs throat, suffocating. âHe will not. Jiang Wanyin is doing a good job. He will know that Jiang Wanyin is doing a good job.â
And though it may speak more to Jiang Wanyinâs lack of sobriety than Lan Zhanâs choice of words, Jiang Wanyin smiles. An open expression that Lan Zhan shouldnât get used to seeing. An open expression that Lan Zhan wants to get used to seeing.
Jiang Wanyin is truly very beautiful. Three copies.
And then Jiang Wanyin slams a hand on the table, startling Lan Zhan out of his (foolish) stupor, and stands on shaking legs. âWell, Iâm exhausted and never want to think about any of this ever again! Good night, Lan Wangji,â he announces, too loud for the establishment, and for a moment Lan Zhan is convinced that heâll make it to his room in one piece.
It is a brief moment, however, because after one strong first step Jiang Wanyin begins to list to his right and Lan Zhan moves quickly to steady him.
Jiang Wanyin frowns up at him, but it doesnât reach his eyes. Bright eyes. Thereâs more hair framing his face than before, curling slightly. âLan Wangji, if you donât stand me up Iâm going to fall asleep here.â
Lan Zhan blinks. His face must be turning red as well, with how warm he feels. âMn.â
Jiang Wanyin is back on his feet for what must be no less than a few heartbeats before he attempts another unsupported step forward.
Ask for help, Jiang Wanyin.
The man in question sways a little on his feet before turning around, huffing out a sigh, and asking, with great difficulty, â...Gege, can you help me get to bed?â
Lan Zhan glances outside, sees the moon rising over the hills. It would be best if I buried myself now.
He then looks back at Jiang Wanyin, who is watching him with bright eyes and half curled hair and flushed cheeks, and wonders with great solemnity how and when it was that he began to compromise his pride.
However long ago the waiter last left our table, perhaps.
This is to say that Lan Zhan is holding Jiang Wanyin up by his arms and walking them towards the stairs before he can even ask the innkeeper if they have a shovel.
He gets them up half a flight of stairs before Jiang Wanyin, apparently having processed Lan Zhanâs embarrassment from before, looks up at him and, no longer keeping up a sober appearance in the privacy of the stairwell, mumbles, âSo you intend to court me, Lan Wangji? I hope you know,â he stops and heaves a long sigh, âthat I wonât make it easy for you.â
Lan Zhan continues walking them both upwards, too focused on their upward momentum to allow himself the shame. Just make fun of me directly, Jiang Wanyin.
They stand together now, more or less, in front of the door to Jiang Wanyinâs room.
Lan Zhan is not going to answer Jiang Wanyin.
He opens the door and gracelessly maneuvers them in. Jiang Wanyin does him the favor of sitting of his own volition, the bed holding his weight silently. As gently as he can without being indecent, Lan Zhan pulls off his boots. Removes his hair pin, taking the time to untangle some of the knots that had formed over the day of travel. Carefully lays him on his side.
Jiang Wanyin will forget.
And yet, âI do know,â Lan Zhan says, wearily accepting that Jiang Wanyin turns him into a fool that simply canât not say the most embarrassing things that come to mind.
Jiang Wanyin is fighting to keep his eyes open now that heâs in bed, but he looks up at Lan Zhan and hums inquisitively, âMm?â
âI do know,â Lan Zhan has to manually turn his body towards the door, âthat you wonât make it easy.â