Words and Stuff

Yet there she’d been, waiting outside the subway exit in the cold just to make sure Wen Qing wouldn’t get lost. Here she is now, gifting stories and laughter in a cramped little two-story café. It’s not high class, but it is charming, with dim lighting and wide wicker chairs. The walls are covered in writing, scribbles running into and over each other, a chaotic pattern of wishes and memories recorded between old photographs and amateur artwork.

Wen Qing loves it.

“When my father brought me here after hospital appointments, I used to beg to sit outside under it,” Jiang Yanli says, continuing a story about the large tree standing outside the café, pavement crumbling and cracking around its roots. Its lowest branches hang down just enough to obscure the hand-painted sight at the entrance, and it stretches high enough to cover part of the second-floor window. For all that the buildings on the street must block the sun, the lonely tree’s foliage is just as vibrant as that of the trees in the park. “I was convinced it was a magical tree. It’s a stubborn thing, isn’t it? Growing all alone like that surrounded by concrete. I thought touching it might give me a little bit of that strength.”

Wen Qing looks over at the tree and finds herself thinking of Wen Ning. Of finding him collapsed, eyes so far away she couldn’t imagine him ever coming back. Of his happy greeting and gentle teasing as she left the apartment this morning, already up and preparing breakfast, humming along to the radio.  

“Maybe it’s a Yunmeng thing,” she says, turning back to Jiang Yanli. “Something in the water. Resilience is a trait you all share.” 

Jiang Yanli’s lips part in a pleased expression of surprise, the berry-red shade of her lips drawing Wen Qing’s attention before she can stop herself. Her hand reaches across the tabletop to cover Wen Qing’s wrist. Wen Qing takes in a shaky breath at the soft slide of her fingertips. She’s thought about Jiang Yanli’s hands every night since their fleeting touch at the airport. If she turned her hand over, she could feel those fingers against her palm, maybe curl her own until they were properly holding hands. She doesn’t move, but the possibility lingers. Their eyes meet. 

Don’t look away, Wen Qing thinks, even as the loud buzzing of her phone breaks the moment. 

It’s the hospital calling her in, of course. Jiang Yanli had suggested this place specifically because she knew Wen Qing was on-call and might need to be in close proximity. The hospital is only a few blocks away, close enough that she can even see the large lake in the middle of the park across the street from the cardiology break room. 

She looks up from her phone, apology on her lips, but Jiang Yanli only shakes her head with that gentle smile of hers. 

“No, don’t worry about it. Thank you for spending time with me today,” she says, tidying the table. “I’d love to meet again when you have time.” 

It’s hard to believe the words, even looking at Jiang Yanli’s sweetly earnest face. Wen Qing has never had an easy time connecting with others, but Jiang Yanli makes everything feel so easy. Natural. As if it’s a given that she would want to see Wen Qing again, that working around Wen Qing’s schedule is just a part of life and not the inconvenience it has always been before. It feels like a dream — something she gets to keep for a while before waking up to a harsh reality. She doesn’t want to know what it’s like to lose this. 

Wei Wuxian is always yelling at her to be less cynical. Maybe it’s time she takes his advice.   

“Of course,” Wen Qing says, and before she can overthink the action, she grabs a marker from the jar on the table and finds an empty space on the wall, writes:

    Wen Qing + Jiang Yanli

    November, 2020

Embarrassment burns behind her eyes and over her cheeks, but Jiang Yanli’s giggles are worth the butterflies in her stomach. Jiang Yanli takes the marker from her and adds, underneath: 

    First date!

December is an entire month away, but it could be tomorrow for as much as he feels fixated on it right now. He breathes in, tries to let the thoughts flow out of him on the exhale. 

It’s just that Lan Xichen remains his biggest distraction. He aches for news of him. He knows he’s in Yunmeng with his little brother. He knows he works in a cardiac unit at one of the connected hospitals. It’s a big reason Nie Mingjue agreed to travel all the way to Yunmeng’s medical center instead of receiving care in Qinghe. But that’s where his knowledge ends. 

Once upon a time, the things he knew about Lan Xichen could fill an encyclopedia. Now it feels like he couldn’t even write a page. He hopes it’s not true. There has to be more for them. What’s two years to a lifetime? 

Once upon a time, he knew Lan Xichen would say yes. He has to believe they can get back to that. 

Love without imposing your own will. He recites the words in his head with each careful step as he moves into another form. Let events take their course. Have without possessing. Lead without trying to control.

At the finish of his last form, he lets his muscles relax and focuses on his breathing, touches his fingers to his neck and checks his heart rate. It’s within his safe zone, so he moves into stretching out the tendons in his wrists and ankles right as Nie Huaisang bursts into their hotel suite with a mighty scowl and bags in both hands. 

“The only reason I am up at this hour is because you’re dying. You better be grateful!” he gripes, holding out a bag.  

Nie Mingjue rolls his eyes, taking it. “I’m not dying.” He peeks inside and frowns. “Congee? That’s it? Wait, what’s in yours?”

Nie Huaisang stuffs the remaining bags behind his back. “They’re fried, da-ge. You can’t eat them. It’s bad for your heart!” 

Ah, it must be youtiao. Nie Mingjue narrows his eyes, assessing. Nie Huaisang stares back. He has his back to the tiny table connected to the wall in the open space next to the kitchenette. Approaching from either side leaves plenty of space for him to weasel away. A frontal assault then. 

“Da-ge!” He shouts as Nie Mingjue lunges, backing into the table before he tries to scramble to the left into the room. Too late. Nie Mingjue maneuvers him into a headlock and plucks the bag from his fingers, crowing in victory. “You can’t eat it!” he protests, trying to twist out the hold. 

“If I die, I will die over youtiao!” Nie Mingjue retorts. “Besides, my cholesterol is fine. It’s not that kind of problem. Stop trying to kill me off. And stop stealing all my food!” He lets go of his brother to unload their breakfast onto the table. A few of the youtiao have been squashed, but they’ll taste the same anyway.  

“If they’re unhappy with your blood work next week, I’m going to say I told you so,” Nie Huaisang says, fixing his hair with a sigh before giving up to sit and eat. 

Nie Mingjue ignores him. “Did you talk to Zhonghui?” 

“Mm, we facetimed. He says your kids are all doing fine. He’ll call you after their grading today.” He laughs. “He’ll probably have videos for you, so watch out. Don’t spend all night reviewing their forms.”  

“Relax. When are you going to stop nagging me? That’s my job.”  

Nie Huaisang waves off his question. “Da-ge, there’s something else you should know.” 

Nie Mingjue pauses, setting down his spoon. His brother doesn’t usually talk straight. Huaisang jokes around topics or presents them as gossip. Sometimes he drops little breadcrumbs of information into a conversation until the listener draws their own conclusions. 

“Yesterday, while you were getting the ultrasound, I ran into Meng Yao.” 

Nie Mingjue doesn’t have a blood pressure problem, but that name might give him one. “What’s he doing in Yunmeng?” 

Nie Huaisang just looks at him. “What are we doing in Yunmeng?” 

“Getting heart surgery, that’s what. I’m not sure that one even has a heart to operate on.” He stops. Sighs. “That was mean.” 

Nie Huaisang shrugs. The battle lines were drawn two years ago and he’s never wavered in his support of Nie Mingjue. He’d been hurt by the lies as well. “I don’t care. Say worse. The only thing I got from him was that he’s working for his father now. He’s technically here on business. It’s not important. You and I both know he’s really here for Xichen-ge.” 

“Huaisang, what’s the point of this? I don’t care what he does anymore.” 

“Well, you probably should if you plan to talk to Xichen-ge again. Have you even called him to let him know we’re here? That you’re getting surgery?” 

He hasn’t. For all that he believes they can fix things, picking up the phone seems an insurmountable task. He’s thought about it a million times, fingers hovering over numbers he knows by heart. He’d thought about it the night before his final competition. He’d thought about it every day in the hospital after. He’d thought about it before he went to bed last night and again this morning. 

He could sooner count all the stars in the sky than stop loving Xichen. He’s just not sure anymore that it’s enough. That he’s enough.

“You don’t have to pour your heart out over one phone call, though I know that’s your style,” Huaisang continues. Nie Mingjue flicks a piece of napkin at him.  “Start small. Even a text would work.” 

“Small?” He could do small. Probably. 

“Yeah, like — Hi. I have something to tell you.” 

“That’s it?” 

“That’s it. Why am I having to teach you this? You’re not that old.” 

“Brat.” 

It really does sound simple coming from Huaisang. He picks up his phone from the table. 

Hi. I have something to tell you. 

“I told you. Get out! I let you sleep long enough.” Jiang Cheng grabs the jeans near his ankle and throws them at Nie Huaisang, who barely catches them with exaggerated outrage. He makes a show of it, huffing and muttering, but he still pulls on the jeans and reaches over the bed for the rest of his clothing. 

“You know,” Nie Huaisang says, shaking out the blankets for his socks, “We do this twice a month in Qinghe, and I’ve never kicked you out of bed before. Where’s the famed Yunmeng hospitality? Also, you’re the one who dragged me here!” 

Jiang Cheng doesn’t reply, only watches him gather his things and try to tame his hair in the mirror. He keeps up a stream of complaints, all of which ring false, and finally makes for the door, where his expression drops into something more truthful that Jiang Cheng will not think about later. 

“Jiang Cheng,” Nie Huaisang says softly, “I know you know I’m here for my brother’s sake, but you have to know that’s not all of it.” 

Jiang Cheng’s jaw aches with how tightly he’s clenching it. “It’s none of my business. This isn’t going to happen again.” 

Nie Huaisang laughs, sharp and disbelieving, sliding a hand up from Jiang Cheng’s navel to the back of his neck. The trailing touch raises the hair on Jiang Cheng’s arms. He should be pushing Nie Huaisang out the door, but his traitorous hands have already reached to clutch at Nie Huaisang’s hips instead, pulling him in close enough to kiss. They don’t. The next move of this game belongs to Nie Husaisang. 

The smell of yesterday’s cologne still lingers faintly on his skin, and it makes Jiang Cheng’s head spin. It’s probably all over his sheets. There’s a shirt stuffed somewhere in his closet that had made its way back with him from one of his frequent business trips to Qinghe. The scent had faded after a few days, but the shame of pressing the garment to his face still burns in his chest. 

The moment stretches between them. When Nie Huaisang finally leans in, he tilts his head just far enough to press his lips gently to Jiang Cheng’s cheek. He pulls away, hair falling like a shroud over his eyes.  

“I won’t come here again, don’t worry. But you know you’re always welcome in Qinghe,” he says. “I can see myself out.” 

He leaves. 

The feeling gnawing at Jiang Cheng’s stomach since he woke up doesn’t abate. It eats at him a little more as he goes to strip the sheets, more as he loads the washing machine, and more as he picks up his phone to see two missed calls from A-Jie.  

He wants to talk to her more than anything. He won’t. For the first time in his life, he finds he’s angry at her. He’s angry that she spoke up for Wei Wuxian to their mother four years ago. He’s angry that their mother forced the engagement to Jin Zixuan because of it, and she never protested. He’s angry that she suffered in silence in Lanling for so long and never reached out to him. He’s angry that he had to find out from their mother that she had broken the engagement last month and was no longer welcome in their home. He’s angry at her, he’s angry for her, and he knows he’s probably taking his anger at Wei Wuxian out on her as well.

He’s the only one left now. Wei Wuxian has always been free with himself, with whom he loves, with whom he leaves behind. Jiang Yanli had done her best to keep them together, but now she’s gone too. 

She calls him every morning. Two calls. One, in case he answers. One, probably to let him know she won’t stop. No more, because she doesn’t want to be pushy. 

He wishes she would push.

Who does he have now? Nie Huaisang? They fuck, they bicker, and they leave each other. That’s how it is. That’s how it has to be. Nothing more than the fading scent of cologne on a cold pillow case.

In his pocket, his phone buzzes. Meng Yao, exactly on time as usual, at least for the days where his surgery shifts end as planned.  He doesn’t need to look at it to know it contains an invitation to meet up that he won’t answer. In a few weeks, Meng Yao will be back in Lanling, and hopefully the job offers and suggestions of relocating there will go with him. 

Still, a small part of him aches to reply. He takes another deep breath and lets the desire go on exhale. Wangji will remind him when he gets home why this is the right decision. Besides, Yunmeng has been kind to them. There’s no reason to leave just yet. 

“Dr. Lan, thank you for waiting!” 

He blinks away the musings and turns to his guest with a smile he actually feels. He’s only known Wen Qing for a day, but she has proven to be competent and level-headed, two qualities he appreciates in his cardiac team members. She has sharp instincts and a gentle touch with patients. Her shadowing period will likely be a short one. 

“No worries, Dr. Wen. The cold air is quite refreshing after such a long day in theatre. What is your impression of our team so far?” He says, waiting for Wen Qing to adjust her coat before turning to walk down the street. 

“I was very impressed with everyone. The hand-off to Dr. Wang’s shift was very smooth,” she says. He nods, glad. It’s something they’ve been working on improving. “You’re not working tomorrow, are you? I heard this was your third day in the OR.”

“Yes, I switched shifts with Dr. Lin — you will meet him tomorrow most likely — so I will take a rest day tomorrow. Then I will be at the heart center on Friday, and on-call this weekend. Are you shadowing the OR all week?” 

There’s a moment of silence. He glances over to see her staring at her phone. “Dr. Wen?” 

Her head snaps up. “Oh! My apologies. Yes, I will be shadowing and assisting this week. Then they will have me in the office next week. After that, I think Dr. Wang wanted to pair me with a team member for a short time.” She slides her phone into her pocket, and he doesn’t comment on the dusting of pink on her cheeks. It’s quite a different look from the intensity she showed in the operating room earlier. 

“Dr. Wang was quite pleased to snatch you up from Qishan. A lot of good things were said about you during your residency there. I’m sure you’ll be up to speed in no time,” he adds, and because he can’t help himself, he continues, “Did you move here alone? With a partner?” 

Her eyes narrow at him. “No. I don’t have — a partner. I’m single. Well. I’m not alone either. I’m living with my brother and his roommate, a family friend.” 

They pause at a stoplight. “It’s good to have family in a new place. I also live with my brother. He’s a music teacher at the high school.” 

“Not Lan Wangji?” she asks, startled. 

“You know him!”

She laughs. “I met him yesterday. He’s—” she glances at him. He wonders what she’s trying not to say. “—a friend of my friend, Wei Wuxian.” 

He can’t help but laugh. “Ah, yes, the boyfriend! Don’t worry, he’s told me,” he reassures her. “Though I suspected a long time before that, ever since Wei Wuxian joined their school.” 

She shakes her head. “Yunmeng must be a lot smaller than I thought.” 

“Yes,” he says as the light changes and they cross the street. “I think you will find that to be true. I’m originally from Gusu, but Yunmeng has been quite kind to me. I hope good things find you here.” 

“I hope so, too.” She’s fiddling with her phone in her pocket again. He wonders if she’s waiting on a call or hoping to make one herself. What kind of person would be on the other line for a woman like Wen Qing? He really needs to stop speculating about other people’s lives, but curiosity makes a great distraction from dwelling on his own affairs. 

They reach the station entrance. It’s late enough that there are barely any people, but they still have a while until the last train runs. 

“Well, I’ll leave you here. My entrance is on the other side,” he says. “I will see you next week. Feel free to use the number I gave you earlier if you have any questions about work.” 

“Thank you again, Dr. Lan. Have a safe trip home!” She waves and descends into the station. 

It’s only been two days since she got off the plane from Lanling, riding high on the feeling of freedom, and gave her number to the cute girl in the airport. She had been so proud of herself. When she’d jumped into the car, flushed and jittery from adrenaline, Luo Qingyang had laughed and cheered from the driver’s seat. It had felt like a victory. 

But it’s been two days with no messages, and now she just feels foolish, like a little girl playing at being a grown-up. She hadn’t even asked for the girl’s name. How impolite! Of course she wouldn’t message. 

She groans into the pillow again. At least the sheets are freshly washed. The smell is a small comfort. 

“Hey now! What’s this?” calls Luo Qingyang from the doorway. “What’s got you so down?” 

Jiang Yanli turns her head to peer at her as she comes over to sit next to her on the bed. “No messages,” she replies, brandishing her phone in Luo Qingyang’s direction. Luo Qingyang takes it from her and pats at her back a little. 

“She might be busy! She could be working. You moved in with me straight from the airport. Maybe she’s in a similar situation. Don’t lose hope.” She grins a little. “And if she doesn’t call or message, that’s her loss. We’ll find you a hundred better ladies to make out with.” 

“MianMian!” Jiang Yanli laughs, sitting up to shove lightly at her shoulder. 

“I admit, she was pretty cute from what I saw of her from the car. But that can’t be why you’re so tied up in knots about this. You didn’t talk for very long. What did you talk about that got you so interested?”

She twists her hair around her fingers and smiles sheepishly at Luo Qingyang. “To be honest,” she answers, “I’m not sure.”

What had they talked about? She couldn’t remember. She’d been so preoccupied with the cute little line between the girl’s brows. At first it really had just been sharing in the delight of the twin suitcases, but as they’d talked she’d found herself charmed, wanting to see the girl smile more. She had taken one look and decided that this girl would fit into her life somehow. 

So Jiang Yanli had taken a chance and given out her number. A-Cheng would shout at her if he knew, but A-Xian would be proud. 

Luo Qingyang swats at her. “You don’t remember! Wow, I’ve never seen you like this. Blinded by someone’s beauty, our Jiang Yanli!”

Jiang Yanli laughs again, feeling a bit more tension seep out of her shoulders as she does. It’s always nice to banter with Luo Qingyang. Fewer childish antics than A-Xian, and less bite than A-Cheng. She really lucked out in gaining Luo Qingyang as a roommate and friend. She had been afraid that ending things with Jin Zixuan would also end her friendship with his childhood friend, but Luo Qingyang was adamant about sticking with her.

“It’s not like that!” she protests. “When I left Lanling...” she falters, a shudder stealing her breath for a moment. Luo Qingyang lays a hand on her knee, encouraging. She continues. “When I left Lanling, I felt nothing. Empty. You know I don’t dislike Jin Zixuan, but I thought that after breaking off the engagement, I would feel happier. It wasn’t until I stepped off the plane that I really started to feel like it was all over. Like I was free. Suddenly I had choices! And when I saw her, I thought—this is a choice I want to make.”

Luo Qingyang looks at her with an expression that makes Jiang Yanli hide her face in her hands. “A-Li, that’s so cute! I guess I should give this back to you then.” She tosses the phone onto the bed sheets. “It buzzed a few times.”

3 new notifications.

“Oh!” She scrambles to grab it and click on the message.

Luo Qingyang giggles and stands to leave. “I’ll make dinner. Have fun with your new beau!” 

Jiang Yanli ignores her.  

Hi. This is Wen Qing. 

You gave me your number at the airport the other day.

We had the same suitcase. 

Wei Wuxian can’t deny that he’s selfish sometimes. He wants all the people he loves in the same place. He’d brought Wen Ning to Yunmeng to help him, but he’s always hoped Wen Qing would follow. He’s glad that this might end up helping her as well. 

“Come on,” he whines, “at least tell us more than ‘we met at the airport.’ Was it love at first sight? Did you sit next to her on the plane? Did you make eye contact over overpriced airport food? Did you sweep her off her feet? Wait, did she sweep you off your feet?” 

Wen Ning nods enthusiastically in agreement, turning wide, pleading eyes on his sister. Good boy, Wen Ning, he thinks. 

She huffs a laugh and shakes her head. “You’re both ridiculous. We met at the baggage claim, actually—”

“Wei Ying,” interrupts a voice. Not just any voice. A voice Wei Wuxian prefers over any other. His name in that voice sounds like a song he never wants to end. 

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian answers, letting the happiness he feels escape onto his face, turning to beam at the tall figure by their table. He’s been practically vibrating out of his skin wondering if Lan Wangji would take the invitation to join them. From the corner of his eye, he sees Wen Qing and Wen Ning whispering to each other. 

“Lan Wangji, it’s nice to see you again,” says Wen Ning. Lan Wangji nods at him. He turns to Wen Qing and bows a little in apology. 

“Please excuse me. I believe I interrupted you.” 

“Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan! Come on, sit, this is Wen Qing. I was telling you about her. You’re just in time for her story.” Wei Wuxian scoots further into their booth and holds out a hand. Lan Wangji hesitates, golden eyes taking measure of the room. The cafe isn’t particularly crowded, but it’s far from empty. Wei Wuxian waits, hand up, unwavering. This is safe, he wants to say. 

Lan Wangji reaches for him. Wei Wuxian’s heart pounds. He’s met Wen Ning before, but he’d been friend then. Wei Wuxian wants him to be boyfriend this time. This thing between them isn’t fragile, but it’s only ever belonged to them. Wei Wuxian is selfish though. He wants all the people he loves in the same place. He wants them to love each other as he loves them. 

Lan Wangji doesn’t grab his hand. Instead, he leans in further until he’s grasping the unbuttoned plackets of Wei Wuxian’s red henley. With what feels like agonizing slowness, he does up the buttons until only one is left open. “Dress appropriately,” Lan Wangji says and finally grasps Wei Wuxian’s hand in his own, sliding into the booth. 

Wei Wuxian blinks. Wen Ning and Wen Qing are fighting down identical expressions of delight. They don’t share many features, but in this moment they truly appear to be siblings. 

Wen Qing leans over and pokes at his cheek. “Oh! Has Wei Wuxian caught feelings for someone? Look at this expression!”