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Chapter Text

The marble-floored lobby of Lan Company was never this noisy. Normally, the employees moved with quiet precision, their shoes barely making a sound. But today…

“Lan wanji! Please, just one photo!”
“CEO Lan, your autograph—just here, please!”

Lan Wangji kept walking, unhurried, as if the crowd of women in elegant dresses and bright smiles didn’t exist. His silver-grey suit sat perfectly on his broad shoulders, the dark tie knotted with flawless precision. Every step echoed authority.

He hadn’t asked for this.
One day—just one day—he had stood in for an absent model during an ad shoot. It had been a last-minute decision, made only because their brand ambassador failed to show up. The campaign went public… and overnight, Lan Wangji’s face was everywhere.

Billboards. Magazines. Social media.

And with it came an endless wave of admirers.

“CEO Lan, you were amazing in that watch commercial—”
He passed by without a word.

“Lan wanji" my friend is your biggest fan—”
A cold glance was enough to silence the sentence.

It went on for weeks. Autograph requests, invitations to dinner, “chance” meetings in the company café.

Until one day, in his brother Lan Xichen’s office, the conversation changed.

“You should get married,” Lan Xichen said gently, sipping tea. “It might… discourage the constant attention.”

Lan Wangji didn’t look up from the file in his hand. “I like boys.”

Xichen blinked, then nodded with the same calm as always. “Then we will consider male candidates.”

But over the next few months, every introduction—every handsome, wealthy, charming man—received the same, quietly final response from Lan Wangji:

“No. Not the one I want.”

And no one knew who “the one” was.

Chapter Text

The rain that day was the soft kind—neither a storm nor a drizzle, just enough to blur the world into something quiet and silver.
Lan Wangji’s car rolled to a stop at a red light, the wipers swishing back and forth. He stared out at the wet streets, the smell of petrichor drifting through the slightly open window.

Without really thinking, he stepped out.
His driver called after him, but Wangji ignored it. The world looked different in the rain—less sharp, more alive.

He took a slow steps along the quiet roadside, letting the mist touch his face.

Then—
SPLASH.

His foot vanished. His balance went with it. In the next heartbeat, Lan Wangji was waist-deep in freezing, foul-smelling water. The slick walls of the manhole made it impossible to climb out.

“…”
He took a breath. “…Help!”

A shadow moved above him. Then a hand reached down. Wangji grabbed it without hesitation, and in a strong pull, he was up on the road again, dripping and furious.

“You… Lan Wangji!” the stranger exclaimed. “I’m your BIG fan! But wow… you’re so dirty now. Please give me an autograph.”

Lan Wangji blinked at him—dark hair plastered to his face, clothes soaked, the faint smell of sewer clinging to him—and scowled.
“Nonsense. Go from my front.”

The boy tilted his head, smiling like this was all a game.
“I helped you, so you have to give me your autograph, Mr. Dirty Handsome.”

“…Who said you could help me?” Wangji’s voice was ice.

“Oh, okay,” the boy shrugged. “Then I’ll just take back my help… or push you back in.”

Before Wangji could respond, the boy gave him a little shove— enough to send him in the manhole . His eyes narrowing in disbelief when he again find where he is.

Half hours later, a group of men in uniforms came running.
“Sir! We’ve been looking everywhere—are you hurt?” They pulled Wangji fully away from the manhole.

“The boy,” Wangji said immediately, pointing. “The boy pushed me in the manhole. Who is he?”

One of the rescue team hesitated, then sighed.
“Sir, please don’t be angry. That boy is Wei Ying. He’s… well, he’s a patient. He escaped from our mental asylum today. We came from the hospital searching for him. When we caught him earlier, he kept saying, ‘There’s a dirty handsome stuck in a manhole!’ We thought it was nonsense… until we saw you.”

“Sorry for the trouble, sir,” another man added.

Lan Wangji just stood there, rain dripping from his hair, surprise written all over his usually calm face.
“…He’s a psycho,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

Chapter Text

Lan Wangji lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling.
The rain had long stopped, the city had gone quiet, but his mind refused to follow.

He could still see that boy—dark eyes shining with mischief, wet hair clinging to his forehead, lips curling into an infuriating grin.
“Mr. Dirty Handsome.”

Wangji closed his eyes.
No. Absolutely not. This was ridiculous.
And yet… he found himself replaying the scene again and again, each detail sharper than the last.

By dawn, he hadn’t slept a minute.

The next morning, he stepped into Lan Xichen’s office, silent as always.

“Wangji?” Xichen asked, noticing the shadows under his brother’s eyes. “You look… troubled.”

In his usual calm tone, Wangji told the entire story—stepping out in the rain, falling into the manhole, the stranger’s “help,” the absurd demand for an autograph, and the revelation that the boy was from a mental asylum.

Lan Xichen blinked. Then he burst out laughing.

It wasn’t a quick chuckle. It wasn’t even a polite laugh.
It was full, unrestrained laughter that lasted a solid thirty minutes.

When he finally caught his breath, he wiped his eyes.
“So what now? Don’t tell me…” He leaned forward, his grin widening. “…you like the psycho boy?”

Wangji’s glare was sharp enough to cut glass.

“Mn,” was all he said.

“Alright, alright,” Xichen said, holding up his hands, though his smile didn’t fade. “Here’s what I think—you need to meet this boy again. Talk to him properly. Maybe if he understands you, he won’t throw you in another manhole when you say ‘nonsense.’”

Wangji stared at him, expression unreadable.

“And if he does…” Xichen chuckled again, “well, at least you’ll have another story to tell me.”

He started laughing all over again, and Wangji quietly decided to leave before it turned into another half-hour.

Chapter Text

The hospital smelled faintly of disinfectant and rain.
Lan Wangji’s footsteps were quiet as he followed the nurse down the corridor, his mind replaying yesterday’s bizarre encounter.

“He’s in the recreation room,” the nurse explained softly. “Mr. Wei Ying is… unique. He forgets things he’s done. So please don’t be upset if he doesn’t remember you.”

Wangji didn’t reply, but his grip on the small gift bag tightened.
(Inside: a book of puzzles. He wasn’t sure why he’d bought it. It just… happened.)

Wei Ying sat cross-legged on the couch, spinning a Rubik’s cube so fast the colors blurred. His head lifted when Wangji stepped in.

“Hii~” Wei Ying sang out. “Who are you? My new doctor?”

“…No,” Wangji said. “Lan Wangji. Yesterday, you pushed me into a manhole.”

Wei Ying’s eyes widened dramatically. “Me? No way. I don’t push handsome people into manholes. Ugly ones, maybe.”

Wangji blinked, unsure if that was an insult or a compliment. “…You called me ‘Mr. Dirty Handsome.’”

Wei Ying tilted his head, pretending to think. “Hmm… sounds like something I would say. You are handsome. Dirty, though? Not today.” His eyes dropped to Wangji’s perfectly pressed suit. “You cleaned up nice. Shame, I liked the sewer look better. More… rugged.”

“…” Wangji had no idea how to answer that.

Wei Ying grinned and leaned closer. “So… you came to see me? Empty-handed? No candy? No flowers? No nothing?”

“I brought this.” Wangji set the puzzle book on the table.

Wei Ying picked it up, flipped through it, and made a face. “This isn’t candy. You’re boring.”

“You like puzzles,” Wangji pointed out.

“I like free things I can eat,” Wei Ying corrected. “Unless… you plan to sit here and solve them with me? That would be fun.”

Before Wangji could answer, Wei Ying’s eyes softened. “Why did you come, really? To scold me?”

“…To see you.” The words came out before Wangji could stop them.

Wei Ying froze for a second, then smiled so wide it almost reached his ears. “Then I forgive you for not bringing candy.” And, without warning, he threw his arms around Wangji in a quick, warm hug.

The nurse came in just then, holding a tray.
“Injection time,” she announced.

Wei Ying instantly tightened his arms around Wangji’s neck. “No! I don’t want it!”

The nurse looked at Wangji. “Sir, could you hold him still?”

Wei Ying turned his face up to Wangji’s, eyes shining. “Don’t let them poke me. You’re supposed to protect me, Mr. Dirty Handsome.”

Wangji didn’t move. “…It’s for your health.”

“You’re cruel,” Wei Ying pouted, then, in a flash of mischief, bit Wangji’s shoulder lightly.

Wangji didn’t even flinch. His arms stayed firm around him until the needle went in.

As the medicine took effect, Wei Ying’s grip loosened. He rested his head against Wangji’s chest, his voice sleepy.
“…Sorry for pushing you in the manhole.”

When Wangji left the hospital, the rain had started again. And for reasons he couldn’t name, he stopped at a candy shop before going home.

That evening, the hospital received several large boxes filled with candies—every single one addressed to Wei Ying.

Chapter Text

The next day, Lan Wangji returned to the hospital.
This time, there was no empty-handed mistake.
In his hand: a bouquet of fresh red roses.
In the other: an elegant box of chocolates.

At the entrance, the nurse met him with a worried look.
“Mr. Lan… Wei Ying is in a bad mood today. Please, handle him carefully.”

Wangji nodded once. “Mn.”

When he pushed open the door to Wei Ying’s room, the first thing he saw was—

WHUMP!

A plush teddy bear smacked him right in the chest.

“Get out of here!” a voice snapped from somewhere unseen.

Wangji straightened, unruffled. “Wei Ying, I came to see you. I brought flowers for you.”

There was a pause, then the voice came again—muffled, low.
“Which flower?”

“Rose.”

Another pause. Then, a hint of mockery:
“I like peonies. You can go.”

Wangji’s jaw tightened. “I’ll leave them here.”

A new command floated out from under the bed.
“Take it. Put it on the table.”

Wangji walked over and placed the bouquet and chocolates neatly on the table.

Another voice, sly now:
“Sit on your knees.”

For a heartbeat, Wangji hesitated. But something—curiosity, maybe—made him lower himself to the floor.

From under the bed, a head emerged. Wei Ying’s eyes sparkled with a dangerous kind of mischief.
“You bring me roses,” he said softly, “that means you want a kiss.”

Before Wangji could react, Wei Ying surged forward, closing the distance.

His lips met Wangji’s—warm, insistent, unrestrained.
And then came the sharp sting of teeth, a playful bite before pulling away.

When he finally released him, Wangji was breathless. Wei Ying grinned, wiped his own mouth with the back of his hand, and without another word, slid back under the bed.

“Goodbye,” came the muffled farewell.

Minutes later, Wangji walked out of the hospital, his composure nowhere to be found.

In the car, he sat still for a long moment, then closed his eyes and touched his lips.
The echo of that kiss—and the bite—still burned there.

For the first time in years, the unshakable CEO found himself trembling.

Chapter Text

The elevator ride up to Lan Xichen’s office felt longer than usual.
Lan Wangji stood in the corner, his reflection in the mirrored walls looking far too composed for what he had just been through.
Inside, however, his chest was tight, his breathing still uneven.

By the time he stepped into Xichen’s office, his calm façade was cracking.

“Wangji?” Xichen set aside a file, raising a brow. “You’re pale. Or… flushed? What happened?”

Wangji walked to the chair and sat down heavily.
“I went to see Wei Ying again,” he began.

And then, with uncharacteristic speed, he told the entire story—
how the nurse warned him about Wei Ying’s bad mood,
how the teddy bear hit him the moment he walked in,
how Wei Ying’s voice came from under the bed, ordering him to put the flowers on the table,
how he was told to kneel…

Wangji’s voice slowed. His gaze dropped to the desk.
When it came to the kiss, the words caught in his throat.

His hand rose unconsciously, fingers brushing his lips.
“…Then he…” Wangji’s voice trailed off entirely.

Xichen leaned forward, eyes twinkling. “Then he what?”

Silence.

Xichen’s smile grew wider. “Ah. Now I see. My little brother, kissed breathless by a boy hiding under a bed. How… romantic.”

“It was not—”

“And biting too? I didn’t think your first kiss would be so… spicy.”

“brother.” Wangji’s tone carried warning, but his ears were faintly red.

Xichen chuckled. “So? Are you going to see him again?”

“He won’t remember,” Wangji replied softly. “The nurse said… he cannot recall the past.”

“Then you’ll just have to make new memories for him,” Xichen said simply, sipping his tea. “One kiss at a time, if needed.”

Wangji stood to leave, but paused at the door. His fingers brushed his lips again before he forced them down.
“…He said roses mean a kiss,” he murmured, almost to himself.

Xichen grinned. “Better send him a garden next time.”

Chapter Text

All day, Lan Wangji found his fingers wandering to his lips—lightly, absentmindedly, like they were checking for something that wasn’t there.

By afternoon, his assistant couldn’t take it anymore.
“Sir… forgive me for asking, but… is there an infection on your lip? Should I call a doctor?”

Wangji’s head snapped up, his ears burning. “No.”
Then, quieter, “It’s nothing.”

The assistant tilted his head suspiciously. “…If you say so, sir.”

The next morning

This time, Wangji walked into the hospital with a bouquet of perfect pink peonies.
No roses. No mistakes.

The nurse smiled knowingly but didn’t say anything as he headed toward Wei Ying’s room.

Inside, Wei Ying was hunched over a table, drawing something furiously on a sheet of paper.

When he saw Wangji, his eyes lit up.
“You! Come here. Draw a portrait of me on this.”

Wangji paused. “…I don’t draw.”

“Doesn’t matter. Try. I want to see how you see me.”

Under Wei Ying’s intense stare, Wangji sat down. He took the pencil, sketching carefully, though his strokes were awkward. He was good at many things, but art was not one of them.

When he finished, he slid the paper toward Wei Ying.

Wei studied it for two seconds… and then his eyes filled with tears.
“So ugly?! Is that what I look like to you?!”

“You—” Wangji began, but Wei interrupted, his voice wobbling.
“I thought I was beautiful… but if you draw me like this…”

He looked around the room desperately. “I need a mirror. Where’s a mirror?”

“There’s none here,” Wangji said gently.

Wei Ying suddenly leaned in, his tone dropping to something quieter, almost intimate.
“Then let me see my image in your eyes.”

Before Wangji could react, Wei was staring straight into his gaze—deep, unblinking, as if trying to find himself in those golden irises.

Wangji’s heartbeat stuttered.

Wei tilted his head. “Your heart’s beating fast.”

Wangji looked away, but Wei’s hand came up suddenly, pressing against his chest.
“It’s really fast,” Wei said loudly, grinning. “What are you thinking about, Mr. Peony Handsome?”

Wangji said nothing, but when he left the hospital that day, his driver noticed something strange.

“Sir… you’re smiling.”

Wangji just looked out the window, the image of Wei Ying’s bright eyes still burning in his mind.

Chapter Text

When Lan Wangji arrived at the hospital that evening, the hallway outside Wei Ying’s room was unusually noisy.
He stepped inside to see Wei Ying in a full-blown argument with a doctor and two nurses.

“I said I’m bored!” Wei was insisting, arms crossed. “I want to go out. The walls here are plotting against me, I can hear them whispering.”

The nurse sighed. “Mr. Wei, you can’t just—”

“I’ll take him,” Wangji said suddenly.

Everyone turned.

“Sir, he’s unpredictable,” the doctor warned. “Stay careful.”

“I will.” Wangji’s tone left no room for argument.

When the nurses left, Wei looked at Wangji curiously. “Why are you being so nice to me? What’s your name, anyway?”

“Lan Wangji.”

Wei tilted his head, tasting the name. “Lan Wangji… sounds like someone who owns a palace.”

They walked to a small park near the hospital. The soft evening light filtered through the trees, and Wei’s eyes widened like a child’s.

He tugged Wangji toward a bench, then toward the flowers, then toward the pond with ducks.

“Everything here is free,” Wei whispered dramatically, as if revealing a great secret. “I like this place.”

Wangji allowed himself a faint smile. “Mn.”

Wei suddenly turned. “Race you!” And without warning, he bolted across the grass.

Wangji’s breath caught before he gave chase, his long legs eating the distance. Within seconds, he caught Wei around the waist, pulling him back.

“Why did you run?” Wangji asked, holding him firmly.

Wei’s grin was pure trouble. “So you’d chase me. You look nice when you’re trying to catch me.”

“…Do not do that again.”

Wei leaned in conspiratorially. “Don’t tell the doctors I ran, or they’ll give me extra injections.”

Wangji’s lips twitched. “…Fine.”

On the way back, they passed a street vendor selling balloons. Wei stopped dead, pointing at one bright red heart-shaped balloon.

“That one. No—give me all of them.”

Wangji didn’t even hesitate, buying the entire bunch. Wei took them, eyes shining.

“Sweet Prince,” he said softly, looking up at Wangji, “I like you.”

Wangji froze for just a moment, then continued walking toward the hospital, the corner of his mouth almost — almost — curling upward.

Chapter Text

Lan Wangji guided Wei Ying back through the hospital gates, balloons still bobbing in the boy’s hand.
Wei refused to let go of Wangji’s sleeve until they reached his room.

Just before stepping in, Wei turned, grinning from ear to ear.
“My Sweet Prince,” he said loudly enough for the nurses to hear, “you came for me today!”

The nurses exchanged knowing glances.
Wangji said nothing, simply loosening Wei’s hold.
Wei plopped onto his bed, hugging his balloons, still smiling.

The next afternoon, Wangji returned.
This time, Wei was curled up fast asleep, hair falling over his eyes.
Wangji stood by the bed for a moment, then stepped outside and approached the nurses’ station.

“How long has he been asleep?” Wangji asked.

“Since lunch,” one nurse replied. “He played too much in the morning.”

Wangji hesitated, then lowered his voice. “Tell me about him. How… did he become like this?”

The nurse’s teasing expression faded. She leaned on the counter, speaking quietly.

“It happened when he was sixteen. On a school trip, the bus swerved, hit a tree, and nearly fell into a ditch. The driver was unconscious. Everyone was screaming.”

She paused, her eyes distant.
“Wei Ying stayed calm. He broke the emergency window, pushed every student out to safety. But when it was his turn… the bus gave way. It rolled into the ditch with him inside.”

Wangji’s grip on the counter tightened.

“He survived, but his head injury was bad. When he woke up weeks later, he didn’t recognize anyone. Not his mother, not his father. His memory still works — but he forgets people and events quickly. And sometimes… he acts like a child.”

The nurse’s tone softened. “People see a crazy boy. I see the bravest student I ever heard about. You should know that, Mr. Lan. He was a hero once.”

Wangji glanced toward the room, where Wei slept with his balloons tied to the bed frame.
For the first time since meeting him, Wangji felt something stir deep inside his chest — not annoyance, not confusion… but quiet respect.

Chapter Text

Lan Wangji lay in bed that night, but sleep refused to come.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Wei Ying — hair messy, eyes bright, clutching balloons like treasure.
The nurse’s words circled in his mind: He was a hero once.

Somehow, the image of that same boy, standing in front of a tilting school bus and shoving classmates to safety, had lodged itself deep in Wangji’s chest.

He didn’t even realize he was absently touching his lips again until his phone buzzed.

“brother,” Wangji answered, voice low.

“Oh, so you’re awake at midnight,” Xichen’s gentle voice teased. “That means you’ve been thinking. And knowing you, it’s about that boy you keep visiting.”

Silence from Wangji.

Xichen chuckled. “Tell me — how was your meeting with Wei Ying today?”

Wangji frowned at the ceiling. “He… was sleeping.”

“That’s all?” Xichen pressed. “Not going to tell me anything about the way you’re obviously smiling right now?”

“I am not smiling,” Wangji said flatly — even though he was.

Xichen hummed knowingly. “Mhm. Just don’t tell me you’re starting to like him.”

Wangji turned to stare out the window into the moonlit courtyard. His voice was calm, but softer than usual.
“He… is not what people think.”

“Ohhh,” Xichen said, voice full of mischief. “Now I’m really curious.”

Wangji hung up.
But the faint smile stayed — all the way until morning.

Chapter Text

Morning – hospital corridor
The sun had just begun spilling pale light into the hospital lobby when Lan Wangji stepped in. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Not today. But somehow his car’s steering had turned of its own accord on the way to his office.

He stopped by the nurse’s desk.
“How is he today?”
The nurse sighed. “Still refuses breakfast. Says he wants fried chicken, like a stubborn child.”

Lan Wangji’s brows knit together. Without a word, he walked straight into Wei Ying’s room.

The boy was sitting cross-legged on the bed, tray untouched, pouting at the porridge like it had personally offended him.
“I said I want fried chicken,” Wei Ying announced the moment he saw him, as if this stranger was the hospital’s food manager.

Lan Wangji came closer, his voice low but firm.
“Eat this now. I will give you fried chicken for dinner.”

Wei Ying blinked at him, suspicious. “And who exactly are you? Why should I believe you?”

Lan Wangji didn’t hesitate. “Because I said it.”

Wei Ying tilted his head, studying him like a puzzle. “So… if you lie, I can’t eat anything for one whole week. That’s my rule.”

The corner of Lan Wangji’s mouth lifted—just a fraction, but enough to count as a smile. “I will not lie.”

Wei Ying frowned, still doubtful… but slowly picked up his spoon. “Alright. But you better be a man of your word, Mister ‘Serious Face.’”

Night – same room
The clock had just struck eight when the door creaked open again. Wei Ying, who’d been sulking over the day’s boredom, froze at the smell that hit his nose.

Lan Wangji stepped in, carrying a warm paper bag. The golden, crispy scent of fried chicken filled the room.

Wei Ying’s eyes widened in pure delight. “You… you actually brought it!” He scrambled to the edge of the bed, snatching the box like a treasure.

He took one bite, closed his eyes, and made a sound halfway between a laugh and a moan. “Ahh… you might actually be my favorite person now.”

Lan Wangji stood there, watching the boy chew with unfiltered happiness. Something unfamiliar twisted in his chest—soft, dangerous, impossible to name.

Wei Ying, mouth full, pointed at him. “See? I told you, if you keep promises, we can be friends. But if you break them—” he wagged the drumstick like a warning—“I’ll haunt you in your sleep.”

Lan Wangji’s lips curved again. “Noted.”

Chapter Text

Lan Wangji had come straight from his office, coat still draped over his arm, a faint scent of fresh rain clinging to him. His steps slowed as he reached Wei Ying’s hospital room.

He was supposed to say a simple goodbye — tell him he’d be away for a week, reassure him, maybe even leave a small gift to keep him smiling.

But the moment he pushed open the door, he knew something was off.

Wei Ying sat on the bed with his knees pulled to his chest, face hidden. His hair was messy, his hospital gown loose over his thin shoulders.

“...Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji’s voice was low, careful. “I came to see you before—”

Before he could finish, Wei Ying’s head snapped up. His eyes were cold, guarded — almost hostile.

“Who are you?” Wei Ying demanded.

Lan Wangji’s chest tightened. “It’s me—”

“I don’t know you,” Wei Ying cut him off, voice sharp. “Why do you coming here? Just get out.”

Lan Wangji froze.

Wei Ying’s words came like small knives, each sharper than the last.
“I didn’t ask for you. I don’t want you here. You’re… you’re annoying! Just go away!”

Lan Wangji’s fingers curled into his palm. He forced himself to stand still, even though every word was cutting him open.

He bowed his head slightly, hiding the shadow in his eyes.
“...Alright.”

He left without saying goodbye.

Scene: The Return

Seven days later, Lan Wangji stepped into the hospital lobby, his suitcase in one hand and a basket of delicate, imported candies in the other — treats he had picked out in the foreign city, imagining how Wei Ying’s eyes would sparkle when he saw them.

But instead of Wei Ying’s laughter, he was greeted by the hospital director’s tense face.

“Mr. Lan… there’s a problem.”

Lan Wangji’s grip on the basket tightened. “What problem?”

The doctor swallowed nervously. “Three days ago… Wei Ying ran away.”

The world went quiet.

The doctor went on, voice shaky. “It was… very strange. He… set the room up. Moved the table under the window, placed a chair on it, and hid behind the door. When the nurse came in, she saw the window set-up and rushed forward thinking he might jump. That’s when he ran out, slipped past her, and vanished before the guards could react.”

Lan Wangji’s jaw clenched.

“We searched the nearby streets. The guards couldn’t find him. He’s… very clever.”

Lan Wangji didn’t answer. He simply turned, pulling his phone from his pocket. Within minutes, his trusted men were receiving a message — Wei Ying’s latest photograph and a single order:

“Find him. Whatever it takes.”

That night, Lan Wangji didn’t touch dinner.
He drove through the city himself, headlights slicing through the dark, scanning every street, every alley, every bus stop.

The basket of foreign candies sat untouched on the passenger seat — just like his chest, heavy with something sweet that had nowhere to go.

Chapter Text

The morning was already tense. Lan Wangji’s car had barely rolled out of the office parking path when his phone rang, the hospital manager’s anxious voice crackling through the speaker.

“Mr. Lan, we… we found Young Master Wei.”

Lan Wangji’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel. Found him?

“But…” the manager hesitated. “He is… currently sitting on a tree beside the hospital.”

There was a pause. Lan Wangji blinked once. “…What?”

“And, um, there are dogs. Many dogs. Barking… aggressively.”

By the time he arrived, the scene was pure chaos. Two security guards stood at the base of a large banyan tree, flinching every time a branch came swinging at them. Up above, perched like a mischievous crow, Wei Ying was crouched on a thick branch, hair messy, hospital gown fluttering, a triumphant grin on his face as he brandished a long stick.

One unfortunate guard made the mistake of attempting to climb. Thwack! The branch smacked against his shoulder.

“Stay back, mortals!” Wei Ying declared dramatically. “You think you can steal my branch kingdom? Hah!”

Lan Wangji stepped forward, his voice calm despite the spectacle.
“Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying turned his head, eyes lighting up. “Handsome!” He quickly scowled, keeping up the act. “Don’t you dare come up here. The branches are mine.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said patiently, “branches are hard. Don’t you want a soft bed and a hot bath?”

Wei Ying hesitated, tapping his chin with the stick. “…Yes. I want soft bed. And hot bath. And—maybe—fried chicken.”

“Then come down.”

“I can’t!” Wei Ying pointed dramatically at the dogs circling below. “They chased me, and I—don’t even ask me how—I climbed up here! But now… I’m stuck. My kingdom is too high.”

Lan Wangji raised a brow. “Then let the guards help you.”

“No!” Wei Ying shook his head so hard his hair flew. “They are not rescuing me. I want a hero.” His gaze softened, a cheeky grin forming. “I want to jump… and you catch me.”

For a moment, Lan Wangji froze. The idea of Wei Ying leaping from that height made his stomach twist. “…Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying leaned forward, eyes sparkling. “Catch me, . Or are you afraid?”

That was all it took. Lan Wangji stepped forward, arms ready. “Come.”

Gasps spread through the crowd—guards, nurses, and even a few curious patients peeking from windows—as Wei Ying took a deep breath, balanced himself on the branch… and jumped.

The impact was heavy, but Lan Wangji’s arms didn’t waver. He held Wei Ying tight against his chest, the boy’s laugh ringing in his ear.

“See? My hero,” Wei Ying teased, clinging to him.

As they walked back, bridal-style, the crowd erupted into claps and cheers. Wei Ying waved regally like a prince returning from battle, calling out, “Thank you, thank you! Your applause is accepted!”

Back in his room, the doctors rushed in, fussing over him, checking for scratches. Wei Ying ignored them, tugging on Lan Wangji’s sleeve.

“my hero,” he said in a pitiful voice, “I am soooo hungry. I haven’t eaten for three whole days. I want to eat so, so, so many things.”

Lan Wangji’s lips curved faintly. From his pocket, he pulled out a small packet of candies and handed it over. Wei Ying’s face lit up instantly, unwrapping one with lightning speed.

“Mmm,” he sighed happily. “This is why you are my hero. You catch me… and now feed me.”

> Hi everyone! I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be leaving for the hostel tomorrow, so I might not be able to continue this story right away. I really didn’t want to start a new one while my other story is still incomplete, but the plot just came to me and I couldn’t resist writing it. I’m very sorry for the delay. I’ll be back about 45 days later after my examinations—my physics exam is in 2 days, so wish me luck! I really hope I won’t fail. Thank you for understanding me.💖

Chapter Text

Lan Wangji sat across from his brother that evening, his usual calm expression clouded.

“I have decided,” he said firmly. “I will marry Wei Ying.”

Lan Xichen blinked in surprise, then chuckled softly. “Wangji… every day he forgets you. To him, you are a stranger each time. How will you marry someone who doesn’t even remember your face?”

“I don’t care.” Wangji’s tone was steel. “Even if he forgets me tomorrow, I will remind him again. And again.”

Xichen’s gaze softened, but his words stayed rational. “Then first, don’t decide for him. Ask him. Memory fades, yes—but likes and dislikes never change. His heart will answer.”

The next day, Lan Wangji entered Wei Ying’s room. The boy was crouched on the floor, playing with colored pencils, drawing crooked flowers on a piece of paper.

Wei Ying looked up, wide-eyed. “Who are you?”

Lan Wangji’s chest ached at the question, but he knelt to Wei’s level. “…My name is Lan Wangji.”

Wei Ying tilted his head, studying him curiously. “Lan Wangji… You’re very handsome. Are you a doctor?”

“…No,” Wangji answered, his voice low. Then, with sudden courage: “I came to ask… will you marry me?”

Wei Ying blinked. Then his laughter burst out, filling the room like chimes in the wind. “Marry you? Hahaha! No way! No no no!”

“Why not?” Lan Wangji pressed gently.

Wei Ying stopped laughing, but his smile turned strange, fragile. He hugged his knees, avoiding Wangji’s eyes. “Because… I don’t want to. That’s all.”

“Tell me the reason,” Wangji insisted, his voice trembling faintly.

But Wei Ying turned his back, burying his face in his folded arms like a sulking child. “Go away. Talk about something else. I don’t want this.”

Lan Wangji’s throat closed. He sat frozen for a long moment before finally standing, his footsteps heavy as he left the room.

That night, back at home, he sat wordless in the dark. His fingers brushed over his lips unconsciously, as if searching for comfort.

Lan Xichen found him there and asked softly, “So? Did you ask?”

Lan Wangji didn’t answer.

Xichen sighed. “Then I understand. You’re awake at midnight because his ‘no’ still echoes in your chest, hm?”

Lan Wangji lowered his head, his silence the only confirmation.

Chapter Text

Lan Qiren summoned his nephew to his study. The old man’s voice was sharp as always, but this time tinged with urgency.

“Wangji, there is a new project in the United States. Complicated, delicate, and it cannot wait. You will go.”

Lan Wangji’s heart sank. “…For how long?”

“One year,” Lan Qiren replied firmly. “It is your responsibility as the head of Lan Company’s future.”

Wangji bowed silently, accepting the duty. But in his chest, something tightened painfully.

The next evening, he went to the hospital one last time before his departure. Wei Ying was sitting cross-legged on the bed, peeling the wrappers from candies and arranging them in a little tower.

The moment Lan Wangji entered, Wei Ying looked up. His eyes sparkled with curiosity, but not recognition. “Oh? Who are you? Another visitor? Did you bring me chicken?”

Lan Wangji’s throat ached, but he forced his voice to remain steady. “…Wei Ying. I am leaving. I will be gone for some time.”

“Ohh?” Wei Ying popped a candy into his mouth, swinging his legs childishly. “Okay then, goodbye! Have fun wherever you go.” He waved casually, like it was nothing at all.

Lan Wangji’s lips parted, but no words came. Does he truly not feel even a thread of attachment? He only nodded once and turned to leave.

At the door, one of the nurses approached him, her expression soft with sympathy. “Sir… all of us can see how much you care for him. Maybe you should talk to his parents before you leave?”

Lan Wangji shook his head faintly. “…When I return. I will.”

And with that, he walked out, carrying the weight of a goodbye that meant nothing to the boy he had begun to center his world around.

Chapter Text

The airport was loud, alive with rushing footsteps, rolling suitcases, and constant announcements. Yet for Lan Wangji, everything felt strangely muted.

His assistant spoke beside him, going over schedules, flights, and arrangements in America. Wangji only nodded faintly, his thoughts somewhere else entirely.

As they approached the security check, his assistant noticed Wangji’s hand twitch, almost instinctively rising toward his lips. It was the same gesture he had done countless times since that day Wei Ying kissed him under the hospital bed.

“Sir,” the assistant asked hesitantly, “is… is there an infection on your lips? Should we call a doctor?”

Wangji’s ears burned faintly red. “No.” He turned away, voice clipped. “…Nothing.”

But as he handed his passport to the officer, his thumb brushed over his lips again.

On the plane, seated by the window, Lan Wangji gazed at the night sky as the aircraft began to rise. The city lights shrank below, twinkling like scattered stars.

For a moment, he thought of Wei Ying — perched on a tree, laughing in the rain, clinging to him during injections, demanding fried chicken with stubborn fire in his eyes.

The memory of Wei’s casual wave yesterday — “Okay then, goodbye!” — stabbed deep. To Wei, he was just a stranger who brought food and candies. But to him… Wei Ying had already become irreplaceable.

Lan Wangji pressed a hand against his chest, over his racing heartbeat, closing his eyes.

Wei Ying… wait for me. Even if you forget me every day… I will not forget you, not even once.

And as the plane carried him away into the dark horizon, his resolve hardened: no matter how long it took, he would come back for Wei Ying.

Chapter Text

Life in the United States moved fast. Meetings, presentations, endless negotiations—Lan Wangji threw himself into work with flawless precision. But behind his calm, distant mask, every night ended the same: his hand resting on his lips or chest, memories of a boy in a hospital room refusing to fade.

Among all his colleagues, there was one who stood out: Miss Katherine Liu, the top officer of the USA branch. Elegant, sharp-eyed, confident—she was admired by everyone. From the start, she tried to draw closer to Lan Wangji.

At meetings, she would sit near him, leaning forward with too-sweet smiles.
At dinners, she would raise her glass, saying, “Mr. Lan, you work too hard. You should relax with me sometime.”
And in the office corridors, she always tried to make casual conversation, brushing past just a little too close.

But every time, Lan Wangji kept the same distance—polite, cold, unshakable. His eyes never lingered on her; his thoughts were elsewhere, on someone who didn’t even remember him.

One evening, a video call came from Gusu. Lan Qiren’s stern face filled the screen.

“Wangji,” his uncle said, “Katherine is an excellent woman. Smart, capable, from a powerful family. The company would benefit greatly if you married her. I expect you to consider this seriously.”

For a moment, silence filled the office.

Lan Wangji’s jaw tightened. His fingers clenched against the desk. He had heard countless commands from his uncle, always obeyed without a word. But this time—

“No.”

Lan Qiren’s brows shot up. “What did you say?”

“No,” Lan Wangji repeated, voice firmer, sharper than ever before. “I will not marry her.”

The air froze. His uncle had never seen him react like this—eyes blazing, tone unyielding.

“Wangji…” Lan Qiren leaned forward, shocked. “You have never spoken against me like this. Why now? Is there… someone else?”

Lan Wangji’s lips pressed into a thin line. He said nothing, but inside, one name echoed like a vow:

Wei Ying.

Chapter Text

Katherine had been watching him for months. No matter how she tried — fancy dinners, flattering words, late-night work sessions — Lan Wangji remained distant, his gaze as cold as glass.

So she decided to play dirty.

That night, after a long meeting, she handed him a drink. “Just a little toast, Mr. Lan. To success.”

Lan Wangji, distracted, lifted the glass without suspicion. The liquid was smooth, bitter… and within minutes, his body began to feel different. His pulse quickened, his chest burned, heat crawling under his skin.

His brows furrowed. “…What is this?”

Katherine’s lips curved into a sly smile. “Nothing dangerous. Just something to… loosen you up.” She leaned closer, whispering against his ear. “Don’t fight it. No one has to know.”

She led him into a private room and locked the door. The air was thick, his heartbeat pounding like a drum, his body burning with a fire he had never felt before. For a moment, his legs trembled, weakness seeping through him.

But when Katherine’s hands reached for him—Lan Wangji’s eyes turned sharp.

Wei Ying.

That name flared in his mind, stronger than the drug, stronger than the fire. His hand shot out, pushing Katherine back. “Do not touch me.”

With iron will, he staggered to the door, yanked it open, and stormed out, ignoring her furious protests.

Back at his apartment, Lan Wangji slammed the door shut, bracing himself against it. His breaths came ragged, sweat dampening his forehead.

The drug still burned through his veins, demanding release, clawing at his control. He pressed a hand over his lips, the other against his chest.

And then, in a voice broken by heat, he whispered—no, moaned—

“…Wei Ying.”

His knees gave way, and he slid down against the door, eyes closed, fighting through the storm.

No matter how his body burned, only one name, only one image, filled his mind. Not Katherine. Not anyone else. Only Wei Ying—his laughter, his stubbornness, his innocent eyes looking at him without recognition.

Even in madness, his heart stayed loyal.

The next morning, Katherine walked into the office like nothing had happened, her heels clicking confidently. She expected Wangji to be distant again, silent as usual.

But this time, his eyes were like ice.

“Miss Katherine,” his voice cut sharp across the room, “you are dismissed. Effective immediately.”

Her smile faltered. “Mr. Lan… what are you saying? I am the top officer here. You can’t—”

“I can.” His tone did not rise, but it carried steel. “You crossed the line. I do not tolerate betrayal.”

She tried to step closer, to plead, but Wangji’s glare stopped her cold. His security entered, at his silent command.

“Escort her out.”

For the first time, Katherine realized—Lan Wangji was not a man she could play with. He was a fortress, and his loyalty to someone unseen was unshakable.

Chapter Text

Lan Qiren sat in the grand study of the U.S. branch headquarters, his stern eyes watching Wangji like a hawk.

“I heard what you did,” he said coldly, placing down his teacup. “You fired Katherine. She was the top officer here, perfect in skill, perfect in background. Yet you dismissed her over personal feelings. Do you understand what this looks like?”

Wangji stood tall, calm as ever. “She betrayed my trust.”

“Trust?” Lan Qiren’s voice grew sharp. “Wangji, you are not a boy anymore! You are the head of the Lan family’s empire. The company’s stability needs alliances. Marrying Katherine would strengthen our power here.”

Wangji’s jaw tightened, his hand clenching behind his back. Still, he spoke in his steady voice.
“I will not marry her.”

Lan Qiren slammed the table. “Then who do you intend to marry?! Who could possibly compare to Katherine in background, status, and benefit to this family?”

The room was heavy with silence, only the faint ticking of the clock.

Finally, Wangji raised his head, his golden eyes unwavering.
“I will only marry Wei Ying.”

Lan Qiren froze, staring at him as if he’d spoken madness. “Wei Ying? That boy doesn’t even remember you. He has nothing. He is nothing.”

For the first time, Wangji’s calm cracked into visible fire.
“He is everything.”

Chapter Text

After ten long months in the U.S., Lan Wangji stepped out of the private jet like a shadow—taller, colder, sharper. In ten months, he had worked like a machine, refusing rest, refusing joy, refusing anything except finishing every project with perfection. His uncle’s words still echoed in his ears, but Wangji had silenced them the only way he knew—by becoming an unbreakable wall of discipline.

Now he was back in China, clutching a basket overflowing with candies—every kind Wei Ying once demanded with his childlike smile.

He walked through the hospital doors, his steps quick, almost eager, for the first time in months. But when he reached the manager’s office, the man’s face went pale.

“Lan… Lan Wangji…” the manager stammered, standing as if facing a storm.

Wangji frowned. “Where is Wei Ying?”

The manager’s lips trembled. “Sir… a lot changed after you left. At first, everything was normal, but then—suddenly—Wei Ying started… missing someone. He said he felt empty, restless, as if a part of him was gone. For the first time, he didn’t forget. He remembered that feeling day after day.”

The candies in Wangji’s hand seemed to weigh a thousand kilos. His heartbeat turned into thunder. “Missing… someone?”

The manager nodded nervously. “Yes. It was… unusual. We brought in a new doctor. He treated him with a different method. And… Wei Ying began to recover. Not fully, but his mind cleared, his childishness faded. He became normal again.”

Wangji’s breath caught—part relief, part agony. “And now?”

The manager looked down. His voice was like a knife. “Sir… the doctor asked for Wei Ying’s hand in marriage. And his family… they agreed. The wedding is tomorrow.”

For a moment, the air left Wangji’s lungs. He stood frozen, staring at the manager as if he’d been shot.

A nurse, who had always admired Wangji’s silent devotion, stepped forward, her eyes full of pity. “Sir… if only you had spoken to his family earlier. I told you once. If you had explained your place in his life, none of this would have happened.”

Wangji’s throat burned. His lips parted, but no words came. The candies slipped from his grip, scattering across the cold hospital floor with soft, mocking thuds.

He turned slightly, his long fingers trembling for the first time in years. Inside, his heart roared, but his face remained the same mask of silence.

He whispered only one word, broken yet steady:
“Wei Ying…”

Chapter Text

The doctor looked up when Wangji entered. “Lan Wangji? I listen about you. I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

“You will cancel the marriage,” Wangji said without hesitation, his voice deep and commanding.

Dr. Shen leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “And why would I do that? Wei Ying is better now. He trusts me. His family trusts me. He deserves a stable partner. Not a man who abandoned him for a year.”

Wangji’s jaw clenched. “I did not abandon him. I fulfilled duty. I returned.”

The doctor gave a humorless laugh. “Your return doesn’t change the fact that I stood by his side every day. That I cured him. He belongs with me.”

Wangji’s eyes darkened further. He reached into his coat and pulled out a sleek black folder, sliding it across the desk. “Five million yuan.”

Dr. Shen’s fingers stilled. He blinked. “…What?”

“Five million. And a resort under Lan holdings. Break the marriage plan.” Wangji’s voice was calm, but beneath the calm was fire, unwavering and absolute.

The doctor’s lips curled into a smirk. “You think you can buy me off? That I’ll sell my pride for money?”

Wangji’s golden gaze pierced him. “Not pride. Choice. If you love him, you will step back. He cannot belong to you. He belongs only to me.”

The silence in the room was thick. Dr. Shen’s hand tapped against the desk, then stilled. “Five million… and a resort?”

“Yes.”

Dr. Shen exhaled slowly, the fight draining from his shoulders. 10 million then l will think about it.

okay 10 million wanji even not hesitate.

Dr.shen picked up his phone and dialed. On speaker, Wei Ying’s parents answered.

“Dr. Shen?” Mrs. Wei’s voice was cheerful. “You’re calling so late. Is it about tomorrow’s ceremony?”

Dr. Shen’s expression flickered briefly before he spoke. “Yes… about that. I’ve reconsidered. I do not think I should marry Wei Ying. Please… forgive me.”

On the other end, Wei Ying’s parents gasped in confusion. “What? But… why, Doctor?”

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Shen said simply, eyes flicking to Wangji. “It will not happen.”

He ended the call. Silence lingered between the two men.

Wangji straightened, his voice low but final. “Wise decision. Stay away from him.”

Dr. Shen’s eyes narrowed. “You think this will make him yours? He doesn’t even remember you.Can you handle that pain, every day?”

Wangji’s lips tightened, but his eyes remained steady. “Yes. Because even if he forgets me a thousand times, I will remind him a thousand more. He is mine.”

Without another word, Lan Wangji turned and left, his long coat sweeping behind him, his fists tight but his resolve unshaken.

Chapter Text

Lan Wangji’s footsteps were soundless as he entered the Wei household that evening. His face was calm, as always, but his heart carried a storm. He had done what he despised most—used money to interfere with destiny. The doctor had yielded to the weight of five million and a luxury resort, and now Wangji stood before Wei Ying’s parents, asking for something far more priceless.

“I came only to be honest,” he said quietly, after the tea was poured. “I love your son. Since the days of his treatment, I have visited him, cared for him, even when he could not remember who I was. I want your blessing to marry him. I will give him my name, my protection, my everything.”

The parents exchanged long glances. The father exhaled slowly, his eyes softened. “We have heard much about your visits, Mr. Lan. If our son could be loved by someone like you, what more could we ask? If he agrees… then so do we.”

Wangji lowered his head in gratitude. The stone on his chest eased, just a little. For the first time in months, the path ahead seemed lit.

But elsewhere, a darker conversation was unfolding.

Wei Ying sat on the edge of his bed, legs swinging, when his phone rang. It was the doctor—the man who had guided him, whose voice he trusted.

“Ah, Wei Ying,” the doctor began, almost too gently. “I need to tell you something before others twist the story. Do you know your parents suddenly cancel your marriage with me and want you to marry a person Lan Wanji?

Wei blinked, confused. “Lan… who?”

“The man who keeps visiting you. Tall, cold, always watching. He isn’t your friend.Today, he came to me and offered five million, even a resort, just so I would give you up.”

Wei Ying’s lips parted. “Give me up…? But… I don’t even know him.”

“That’s exactly it,” the doctor’s voice sharpened. “You don’t know him, and yet he wants to buy you. If he truly loved you, he would earn your heart, not pay to clear rivals. This is not love, Wei Ying. It’s greed, obsession. He only wants to own you.”

Wei Ying’s chest tightened. His memories were a blur, and this person he dont know come for marry him and his parents also agree.

“So… my parents…”

“They were convinced by his wealth,” the doctor interrupted. “But you don’t have to be. Listen carefully—tonight, I must leave for another city. If you don’t want to be trapped in his golden cage, then come with me. We’ll leave quietly. I’ll keep you safe. I’m the one who treated you, the one who stayed when you were broken. Doesn’t that matter more than a stranger’s money?”

Wei Ying’s heart trembled
“…Alright,” he whispered. “I’ll go with you.”

The doctor smiled, unseen, and the hook sank deeper.

And while Lan Wangji believed the family’s blessing had secured the path forward, the truth was already slipping away. In the shadows of the night, Wei Ying began to pack a small bag, his heart tangled with confusion, fear, and a fragile, misplaced trust.

Chapter Text

Lan Wangji arrived at the Wei residence the next morning with quiet certainty. He had not slept a moment, his thoughts pacing like caged beasts, but he held onto the steady rhythm of one truth: Wei Ying’s parents had accepted. All that remained was for Wei Ying to see him, to hear him, to know him—not as a stranger, but as the one who had waited for him, unshaken.

His arms were full—an armful of candies, peonies, and a small box of ink brushes he had once noticed Wei Ying eyeing in the hospital. Wangji rarely gave gifts, but for this boy, his restraint had long since fractured.

But when he stepped into the courtyard, the atmosphere was different. Tight. Wrong.

The Wei parents rose to greet him, but their faces were pale. The father shifted uneasily, while the mother wrung her hands in her lap.

“Mr. Lan,” the father said gravely, “we… must apologize.”

Something cold slid down Wangji’s spine. “Where is Wei Ying?”

The mother’s voice trembled. “He… he left last night. With the doctor.”

The words struck harder than any blade. Wangji’s breath caught, but his expression did not break—he forced it not to. “Left? Where.”

“They told us only this morning,” the father admitted. “The doctor said it was sudden work in another city. Wei Ying insisted. He said…” the man hesitated, “…he said he couldn’t stay here, couldn’t marry into a life he didn’t choose.”

Silence.

Lan Wangji’s grip tightened on the candy bag until the plastic crackled. The peonies trembled in his hand, petals shivering from the force of his restraint.

“Why,” he asked, his voice low, “did no one stop them?”

The father flinched. “We thought… he was with someone trustworthy. The doctor has cared for him for so long. We did not imagine—”

Wangji cut him off, his eyes like frozen steel. “Trustworthy? The man who can be bought?”

Both parents looked startled.

Wangji’s throat ached with the weight of the truth he could not share—the money, the bargain, the mistake that had now turned into betrayal. His chest felt hollow, burning with the absence of someone who did not even remember his name.

Back in his car, the gifts sat untouched on the seat beside him. His hands rested on the steering wheel, unmoving. His reflection in the rearview mirror showed no emotion, but inside, a storm raged.

Wei Ying had vanished.

And yet—Lan Wangji knew one thing with unshakable certainty. He would find him. No matter how far the doctor took him, no matter how much Wei Ying believed the lies whispered into his ears, he would not stop.

Chapter Text

Wei Ying leaned back on the cushioned chair, a rare content smile tugging at his lips. The doctor placed a warm bowl of soup in front of him, steam curling upward like gentle fingers.

“Careful, it’s hot,” the doctor said softly, settling opposite him. “You’ve been eating less again. I can’t have you getting weak.”

Wei Ying’s eyes softened. His voice was childlike, uncertain. “Why do you take care of me so much?”

The doctor chuckled, brushing his knuckles across the table as if to close the space between them. “Because you deserve it. Because you’re special, Wei Ying. Not everyone can see how bright you are—but I do.”

Wei Ying lowered his gaze, heart squeezing. For so long, he had been told he was troublesome, strange, broken. But here was someone who called him bright. His lips twitched upward. “Then… I’ll try to eat.”

The doctor smiled, satisfied, as Wei Ying picked up the spoon.

Across the city, Lan Wangji sat in his silent study. Papers for the Lan Corporation’s overseas projects were spread across his desk, untouched. A glass of water stood at his side, condensation dripping, forgotten.

He stared at nothing, fingers pressed against his lips. He could still feel the ghost of Wei Ying’s rejection there, the bitter sting of his words: greedy, selfish, bad person.

Wangji’s chest tightened.

He wanted to chase him, to pull him back at any cost—but what if… what if Wei Ying smiled brighter with the doctor? What if the gentle words, the warmth, became his new home?

If Wei Ying found happiness elsewhere, Wangji told himself, he would not resist. He would step aside, even if it meant tearing his own heart apart.

But—just once. Just one more time—he needed to speak to him. To look into his eyes and ask, Do you really not feel it? Not even a little?

Chapter Text

Wei Ying had hardly slept that night. The doctor’s gentle care had made him feel safe, and for a moment, he allowed himself to forget the chaos of yesterday. But today… today was different.

“You’ve been too quiet,” the doctor said, sliding closer to him while adjusting the collar of his shirt. “You know, Wei Ying… I think you’re extraordinary. You deserve more than just care—you deserve admiration, desire. You are… irresistible.”

Wei Ying’s brows knitted. “Stop. Don’t say things like that. We are not married.”

The doctor chuckled softly, a low hum in the back of his throat. “Then let’s marry tomorrow,” he said, voice smooth, coaxing, almost playful. “Then everything I do will be proper.”

Wei Ying swallowed, unsettled. “I… I don’t know. I… I cannot think like this.”

But the doctor was relentless. He insisted on taking Wei Ying shopping—clothes, shoes, accessories. Each worker he flirted with made Wei’s stomach twist. When a salesman complimented Wei’s physique, the doctor winked and whispered, “Your waist… your arms… you’re very sexy, don’t hide it.”

“I don’t like this,” Wei whispered, stepping back. “Stop it.”

Later, the doctor dragged him into a bar. The lights were dim, the music thumping, and the smell of alcohol heavy.

“I don’t drink,” Wei said, shaking his head.

“Come on,” the doctor said, ignoring him. “You’re old enough. Let loose.”

Wei moved cautiously, unwilling to let the man pull him too close. When the music shifted to a faster rhythm, the doctor grabbed him for a dance. Wei stepped back instinctively, trying to maintain distance.

The doctor’s smile faltered, lips thinning. He blinked rapidly, a flush creeping across his cheeks. “Boring,” he muttered. Then, in a surge of recklessness fueled by drink, he grabbed another girl and danced aggressively in front of Wei, lips pressing hers in a public display.

Wei’s chest constricted, anger and betrayal mixing into a hot pulse behind his ribs. Without thinking, he grabbed the doctor’s arm and yanked him outside into the cold night.

“Do you think this is right? Do you think I like this?!” Wei shouted, tears stinging his eyes. “Do you even care how I feel? You… you treat me like I’m nothing!”

The doctor, swaying from drink, smirked, half-laughing, half-annoyed. “You’re… sexy, yes. But so boring! What if you leave me? Huh? I’ll find someone more beautiful, more exciting. Not a mental patient like you. I’m going to have fun with her… you… go to hell.”

The words cut Wei deeper than any knife. His chest heaved, tears spilling freely. “I… I never… I never wanted this from you! I trusted you! You… you’re sick!”

With one last glance at the man who had twisted care into cruelty, Wei turned and ran. His small feet pounded the pavement, tears streaming down his face, heart shattered, and mind screaming in confusion.

Behind him, the doctor’s laughter rang hollow, the city lights reflecting off the bars, a mocking echo of the chaos he had created.

Wei’s sobs carried into the night, mingling with the wind and the distant hum of traffic. He had escaped, yes—but the weight of betrayal pressed heavily, and the shadow of Lan Wangji, silent and unseen, hovered somewhere in the distance of his mind.

Chapter Text

Wei Ying returned home late that night, the streets still glowing faintly under streetlights. His body was heavy, muscles aching from the adrenaline, the emotional storm of the doctor’s recklessness still pounding in his chest. He didn’t speak to his parents, didn’t explain anything. He barely managed to drag himself to the bathroom, let the warm water rinse off the grime of the night, and then, damp in a thin robe, collapsed onto his bed. Sleep claimed him almost instantly, deep and unrelenting.

Morning came with sharp sunlight and louder worries. His parents knocked repeatedly on the door, calling his name. When there was no response, worry deepened into fear. “Wei Ying, please answer! Are you awake?”

Still nothing.

Panic edged into the air. His mother’s hands trembled, and his father’s brow furrowed with helpless frustration. They dialed Lan Wangji even before breaking the door. Wangji arrived swiftly, his expression unreadable, calm but coldly efficient. His eyes scanned the room, immediately catching the disheveled bed and Wei lying there, drenched in the wet robe, body shivering under the covers.

The door broke under gentle force, and Wangji strode in. “Wei Ying,” he said sharply, kneeling beside the bed. His hands checked the boy’s forehead, lips pressing into a line. The fever burned hotter than he expected.

Without hesitation, he called the doctor, his fingers drumming against the phone with silent urgency. His mind raced—medicines, care, steps to stabilize Wei—but he didn’t speak a word aloud. His presence alone exuded a quiet authority, an unshakable determination to protect.

Wei’s mother guided them both out, her hands brushing her face nervously. “I’ll change his wet robe,” she whispered, stepping close. The air was thick with anxiety as she replaced the soaked fabric with warm layers, careful and gentle.

The doctor arrived quickly, checking Wei thoroughly, listening to his pulse, administering the right medicines, and adjusting his blanket. Wangji watched, tense, standing just beyond the bedside, yet closer than anyone dared to be.

An hour later, Wei lay propped against pillows, small sips of soup in his hands, his mother feeding him tenderly. His eyes, sharp and piercing, scanned the room. They landed on Lan Wangji like lasers, analyzing, measuring, seeing past the calm mask to the silent worry he carried for Wei.

“You…” Wei whispered, voice low but edged with clarity, “why are you here? You… always appear, don’t you?”

Wangji’s lips twitched, but he said nothing. He merely watched, letting the boy’s gaze pierce him, steady and unflinching. No words were necessary—his presence, silent and unwavering, spoke louder than any confession.

Wei continued eating, each bite measured, yet every glance at Wangji was sharp, examining him as though trying to read every hidden thought. Wangji’s heart tightened, unspoken words lodged in his throat. For once, the world outside, the lies,everything, faded to a single point: Wei Ying, vulnerable yet piercing, and Lan Wangji, sworn to protect him at any cost.

Chapter Text

After Wangji left that morning, the house carried a heavy quiet. Wei Ying dozed in and out of sleep, fever still making his body weak. His parents, however, whispered softly in the living room, their voices hushed yet warm.

“Lan Wangji is really something,” his father murmured, adjusting his spectacles. “The way he took charge, how quickly he called a doctor—he didn’t panic. He only thought about Wei.”

His mother nodded, her eyes still moist from worry. “And the way he stayed beside the bed, even when the doctor came. He didn’t leave for a second, just stood there watching. I could see it—he cares.”

Both parents glanced toward the closed bedroom door. A smile, small but certain, touched his mother’s lips. “If he wishes to speak with Wei again, I won’t stop him. Maybe… maybe he is the one.”

That evening, after some insistence, Lan Wangji returned. He arrived precisely at the hour promised, his posture immaculate, eyes calm as ever. Wei’s parents greeted him warmly this time, offering tea before gently excusing themselves. “He wants to talk with you,” his mother said with a meaningful smile.

Inside the room, Wei Ying was already sitting upright on the bed, blanket pooled around his lap. His face was paler than usual, but his eyes were clear, sharp, assessing every step Wangji took as he entered.

There was no hesitation in his voice when he spoke.
“You drink?”

Lan Wangji paused, just a fraction of a second, his composure flickering with surprise. He turned his gaze fully toward Wei, expression open yet steady. “Once,” he admitted quietly. “When I was studying abroad. No more than that.”

Wei tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly as though dissecting the honesty of the answer. His lips curved into the faintest smirk, but it didn’t last long. Another question followed, swift and blunt:
“You can flirt?”

This time, Wangji almost blinked. His fingers curled slightly at his side before he answered. “I never tried,” he said truthfully. “And I think… I am not good at it.” His voice was low, even, every word chosen carefully. “My brothers often say I am not good with words.”

Wei studied him for a long moment, silence stretching in the room. The sharpness in his eyes softened, just slightly, as though something within him weighed Wangji’s honesty against the doctor’s charm. One was smooth, polished, practiced sweet talk. The other—this man—was bare truth, steady as stone.

“Not good at words,” Wei repeated softly, almost to himself. “But you came, even when no one asked you. That says more than words.”

The silence between them grew thick again, but this time, it wasn’t cold.

Chapter Text

Wei Ying leaned back against the pillows, his lips quirking though his gaze stayed sharp. “Not good at words, hm?” His voice carried that familiar playful lilt, though his body still felt weak. “Then tell me—how do you win someone’s heart if you can’t flirt? People don’t just… hand themselves over to a man who stares and says nothing.”

Lan Wangji stood silently for a moment, his steady presence filling the room. His lips parted slightly, then closed, then finally, he answered in his deep, deliberate tone.
“I do not… win hearts.”

Wei’s eyebrows shot up. “Then what do you do? Just wait and hope someone trips and falls into your arms?” He gave a soft, breathless laugh, but it was half-exasperated. “Life doesn’t work that way, mister serious.”

Lan Wangji’s eyes didn’t waver. “If the person I want… is meant for me, I do not need to trick them. I will stay until they see it.”

Wei’s smirk faltered at that. His chest tightened unexpectedly, though he quickly tried to cover it with another jab. “Stay? Sounds boring. What if they never see it, hm? What if they decide you’re nothing but a stone statue, too stiff, too dull?”

For the first time, Wangji’s gaze softened—not defensive, but quietly vulnerable. His voice dropped lower.
“Then I will still stay. Even if they never see me.”

Wei Ying froze. The teasing words he’d prepared slipped away, leaving only silence. He searched Wangji’s face as though expecting to find a crack, a hint of dishonesty—but there was nothing. Just unwavering sincerity, so steady it almost hurt to look at.

The room felt suddenly heavier, the air thick between them. Wei swallowed, shifting under the blanket. His tone wavered, softer now.
“You’d… really wait like that? Even if the person called you names, told you to go away?”

Lan Wangji didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

That single word hit like a stone dropped into still water, rippling through Wei Ying’s chest. His eyes darted away, unsettled, as though he could not bear the weight of being looked at like that.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Lan Wangji’s phone lit up with an unexpected message.

Come with me somewhere. Pick me up. I can’t drive today.

There was no explanation, only a pin location. Wangji’s brows furrowed, but his steps were already moving. By the time he arrived, Wei Ying was waiting outside, casually tossing a set of keys in his hand.

“You drive,” Wei said, dropping the keys into Wangji’s palm with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll be the navigator. Now… right turn. Next left. Straight. Another right.”

Wangji followed without a word, his knuckles pale around the steering wheel, sensing something beneath Wei Ying’s cheer. Finally, the car rolled to a stop in front of glowing neon signs.

Lan Wangji’s chest tightened. “Here?”

Wei Ying leaned across him to point. His smile looked sharper than usual. “Don’t mind, hmm? I want to drink.” Before Wangji could respond, Wei had already stepped out, tugging at his sleeve until the taller man reluctantly followed.

Inside, music throbbed through flashing lights. Wei Ying slid onto a barstool and downed his first glass in one swallow. His throat bobbed as he placed the glass back with a clink.

“Not good for your health,” Wangji said, his tone low but firm.

Wei shot him a crooked smile. “You sound like my mother. Relax.” He reached for another glass but this time spun on the stool, pointing toward the dance floor. “Come on. Let’s dance.”

Lan Wangji resisted the tug, his feet heavy, but Wei Ying dragged him into the crowd anyway. Bodies pressed around them, music shaking the floor. Wei swayed closer, his breath tinged with alcohol.

“Lan Zhan,” he whispered, looking up through damp lashes, “kiss me.”

The words landed like thunder. Lan Wangji froze, his pulse pounding at his throat. His hands twitched at his sides before he pulled Wei sharply toward the exit instead, ignoring the whistles and complaints of strangers around them.

“Wei Ying,” he said once the night air hit their faces. “Enough. Go home. You are drunk.”

Wei’s eyes shimmered red in the streetlight, his lips trembling. “So now…” His voice cracked. “Now I look boring, don’t I?”

Lan Wangji’s breath caught. “No.” His answer was immediate, unshakable. “You never were boring.”

Wei let out a broken laugh and rubbed furiously at his wet eyes. “Then why did he say it? He said I was boring. Old. A patient no one wants.”

Lan Wangji’s control frayed. He stepped closer, his voice fierce yet steady. “He is wrong. He is boring. Not you.”

Wei Ying blinked at him, eyes wide, lips parting in stunned silence. Then, suddenly, he folded forward, burying himself against Wangji’s chest. His voice muffled against the crisp fabric.

“You smell… very nice,” Wei whispered, tears soaking into Wangji’s shirt. “Very safe.”

Lan Wangji’s arms wrapped around him, holding him as if he might disappear. He guided Wei into the car, buckled him carefully, and began the drive.

The ride was a haze of soft streetlamps and slurred words. Wei Ying tilted his head toward the window, giggling faintly. “Lan Zhan… tell me. Is my waist sexy? Hm? The doctor said it was.”

Wangji gripped the wheel tighter, answering quietly, “Your waist… is yours. That is enough.”

Wei pouted. “Not fair. You didn’t say yes or no.”

“Then…” Wangji’s lips curved just faintly, “No one has the right to say. Only you.”

Wei blinked at him, drunken confusion giving way to something softer. His head lolled against the seat, eyes slipping shut as he murmured, “You always… answer so gently. Stupid Lan Zhan.”

By the time they reached the familiar gate, Wei Ying had fallen asleep completely, lashes damp, mouth parted slightly. Lan Wangji circled the car, opened the door, and carefully lifted him. Wei curled instinctively against his chest, sighing.

Carrying him in arms, Wangji walked through the quiet night toward the door. For that moment, with the weight of Wei Ying warm against him, he allowed himself to imagine that this was not fleeting. That maybe, just maybe, Wei was already his.

Chapter Text

The morning light filtered through pale curtains, painting stripes across Wei Ying’s face. He stirred under the quilt, groggy but clear-headed enough to remember the blur of last night—the smoky bar, the dizzy lights, his desperate plea for a kiss, and then… Lan Zhan’s arms. The memory of that embrace clung to him like the faint trace of a fragrance, clean and steady.

He touched his lips without meaning to. Never boring… he said.

For the first time in a long while, Wei Ying didn’t feel the weight of loneliness pressing down. Instead, his chest was restless with thoughts he couldn’t name.

The bell rang. His parents moved to answer, and Wei Ying pushed himself upright, hair mussed, still half lost in last night’s haze.

It was the doctor. He stood in the living room with a carefully arranged smile that faltered the moment he saw Wei Ying.

“Lan Wangji,” he began quickly, but Wangji wasn’t there. His eyes darted, landing on Wei instead. “Wei Ying… about yesterday, I— I behaved badly. It was the alcohol. I shouldn’t have spoken that way.”

Wei’s parents exchanged glances, awkward but polite, while Wei Ying crossed his arms. “So you came to apologize?”

“Yes,” the doctor nodded, stepping closer. “And to ask for another chance. Don’t punish me for one mistake. I can make you happy.” His voice softened, syrupy, as though to coax a child.

Wei Ying’s eyes narrowed. The taste of last night returned, bitter and raw. “No,” he said sharply, cutting through the man’s act. “I won’t marry you.”

The air stilled. His parents turned sharply toward him, surprised at the firmness in his tone.

The doctor’s smile cracked. For a moment he simply stared, then his expression twisted. “Wei Ying, you don’t know what you’re saying. You’re mine.” His voice deepened, shaking with a possessiveness that made Wei Ying’s skin crawl. “I won’t let you go.”

The atmosphere shifted immediately—his parents stiffened, Wei Ying’s heart thudded in his chest.

“You should leave,” Wei’s father said firmly, stepping forward.

The doctor didn’t move. His eyes were locked on Wei Ying, as though trying to burn him in place. Finally, after a tense silence, he forced a strained smile, straightened his coat, and headed for the door.

But before leaving, he looked back, his gaze sharp and unsettling. “Think carefully, Wei Ying. If you walk away, you’ll regret it. You’ll see I don’t give up what’s mine.”

The door closed with a heavy click.

Wei Ying let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His hands trembled slightly as he pressed them against his knees. And yet, despite the unease crawling under his skin, his thoughts did not linger on the doctor’s threat.

They returned, stubbornly, to a voice softer than morning light.

You never were boring.

Chapter Text

The storm of the doctor’s visit had barely settled when Wei Ying’s parents sat with him in the quiet of the living room. His father’s tone was gentle, softer than before.

“Wei Ying,” he said, “you’ve seen it yourself. Lan Wangji has cared for you in ways no one else has. He visits you, brings you things you like, worries over you. Would it be so wrong to… consider him?”

Wei Ying chewed his lip, restless. The thought of Lan Wangji did stir something in him, something confusing—warmth, safety, but also a pressure he wasn’t ready to name. He shook his head. “Not now. I don’t… I don’t agree to marry anyone right now.”

His mother tilted her head. “So later, then? You’ll think about it?”

Wei Ying sighed, his eyes dropping to his hands. “Maybe. But right now, I just want to study. I’ve missed too many years. Everyone’s ahead of me, and I’m still…” he trailed off, his voice quieter, almost childlike. “…still stuck.”

The words carried to Lan Wangji later that day. For a long moment, Wangji stood silent in his office, the city skyline glimmering beyond the glass. Then, without a word, he reached for his phone.

By evening, three of the best tutors in different subjects were seated in front of him.

“Your student is Wei Ying,” Wangji said, his tone calm but carrying a weight that made none of them dare interrupt. “You will teach him with patience. No pressure. No harshness. He is to enjoy learning. If he struggles, you adjust. If he refuses, you wait. Your task is not grades, but confidence.”

The tutors nodded nervously, sensing the gravity of their assignment.

Later, as he drove past the quiet street near Wei Ying’s home, Wangji allowed himself a small thought: Wei Ying’s future didn’t have to be rushed. If marriage was not possible now, then he would wait. He would make sure Wei Ying stood firmly on his own feet first—no matter how long it took.

And in Wei Ying’s room that night, under the soft glow of a lamp, the boy scribbled on an empty notebook, whispering to himself, study… I’ll study. For the first time in years, the thought of tomorrow did not seem so heavy.

Chapter Text

Chapter — The First Lesson

The next morning, Wei Ying sat cross-legged on the carpet of the living room, scribbling nonsense doodles on the corner of his notebook. His parents had gently reminded him: “The teachers Lan Wangji arranged will come today.”

At the mention of that name, his ears twitched. He didn’t say anything, but his heart gave an odd little jump.

By afternoon, a young math tutor arrived with a polite smile and stacks of books. “Hello, Wei Ying. Today we’ll start with something light—”

But before he could finish, Wei Ying tilted his head. “Do you know two plus two equals fish?”

The tutor blinked. “…Excuse me?”

Wei Ying leaned closer, eyes sparkling with mischief. “And three plus three equals eight! Look, if you draw them sideways—” He sketched on the page, grinning at his own cleverness.

The poor tutor chuckled awkwardly. “That’s… creative. But maybe let’s start with—”

“No, no!” Wei Ying wagged a finger. “You must promise me first. No boring things. If it’s boring, I’ll run away.”

In the hallway, Lan Wangji stood quietly, half hidden by the doorframe. He had come without announcing himself, only to see how things went. His gaze softened as he watched Wei Ying’s energy fill the room. Chaotic, he thought. But alive.

The tutor tried again, patient but nervous under the weight of Wangji’s presence outside. “What if I make it a game? If you solve a question, you get a candy. Deal?”

Wei Ying’s eyes lit up instantly. “Candy? Okay! But no green ones. I hate green.”

Behind the door, Lan Wangji’s lips curved, just slightly. He made a mental note to send a large box of every color candy—except green.

The lesson stumbled along, half-study, half-chaos. Wei Ying hummed under his breath, tapped his pencil like a drum, and every time the tutor looked close to giving up, he would suddenly solve a problem perfectly, flashing a grin as if to say See? I’m smarter than you think.

When the session ended, the tutor left with sweat on his brow and relief in his voice: “It went… well, I think.”

Only then did Lan Wangji step inside. Wei Ying looked up, blinking at him, not surprised at all. “Oh. It’s you again. Did you come to spy on me?”

Wangji paused, then gave a single nod.

Wei Ying smirked, leaning back against the sofa. “Hmph. Then remember—I’m not boring. Even if I fail math, I’ll never be boring.”

For the first time that day, Wangji allowed himself to answer aloud, voice steady but low:
“You never were.”

Wei Ying blinked, caught off guard, and for a moment he forgot to tease.

Chapter Text

The next week, the house echoed with Wei Ying’s voice more than the sound of pens or turning pages.

The English tutor sighed as Wei Ying leaned over the table, chin propped on his hand.
“If mouse becomes mice, why not house becomes hice? Hmm? Tell me, Teacher, are you lying to me all these years?”

The tutor tried to explain patiently, but Wei Ying only laughed and pointed his pencil like a sword. “Admit it! English is nonsense. Nonsense!”

From the corner, Lan Wangji sat silently with his laptop open, pretending to work. But his ear tilted every time Wei Ying spoke, and his eyes softened with each grin.

Math was no easier.
“If two wrongs don’t make a right,” Wei Ying announced, scribbling equations upside down, “then why do two negatives make a positive? See? Even math cheats!”

The tutor buried his face in his notes.

But then, just when they thought nothing had entered his head, Wei Ying would solve a long problem correctly, shrugging as if it were nothing. “See? I told you I’m not boring.”

And each time, Lan Wangji’s heart clenched tighter.

A few days later, the history tutor tried to make him read quietly. Wei Ying lasted ten minutes before slamming the book shut.
“Too many dead emperors! I need fresh air.”

He leapt up, eyes gleaming with mischief, and pointed toward the door. “Come on, all of you. We’re going outside.”

The tutors froze. “O-outside?”

“Yes! Learning trip! Nature! Air!” Wei Ying was already pulling on his shoes. Then his gaze fell on Wangji, who had just entered the hall. “And you. Especially you, Mr. Dirty Handsome. You’ll drive.”

Lan Wangji raised an eyebrow, but when Wei Ying pressed the car key into his palm and tugged him toward the door, he didn’t resist.

The park wasn’t far, but it was alive with people, children laughing, kites flying. Wei Ying twirled in the grass, arms out like wings.

“This is better! Fresh air is good for studying.” He dropped suddenly onto the grass and spread his papers across the ground. “Now, Teacher, ask me questions!”

The tutors, bewildered but trying, began. Wei Ying answered while lying on his stomach, kicking his feet lazily. When he got something right, he looked up at Wangji expectantly.

Wangji only said, “Mn.” But his eyes warmed each time.

At one point, Wei Ying plucked a flower, held it up, and grinned. “See this? This is what real learning is. Not boring books. Do you agree, Lan Zhan?”

Lan Wangji met his gaze, long and steady. “…I agree.”

The words landed heavier than Wei Ying expected. His grin wavered, just a little, before he shoved the flower into Wangji’s pocket. “Good. Then keep it.”

Chapter Text

The weeks passed in a blur of books, tutors, and Lan Wangji’s quiet presence.
At first, Wei Ying complained about studying every day, but secretly he was enjoying it—mostly because Wangji always came by. Sometimes he just worked in the corner with his laptop; sometimes he silently reminded the tutors not to push too hard. Slowly, Wei Ying’s parents began to notice.

“He’s always here,” Wei Ying’s mother whispered one evening as she set tea on the table.
Wei Ying’s father nodded. “Not only that, he watches A-Ying like he’s the only person in the world.”
There was no teasing in their voices anymore, only quiet approval.

Finally, the morning came—Wei Ying’s first day of college.

He stood in front of the mirror in a crisp new shirt, brushing his damp hair again and again. For once, he wasn’t smiling. His heart beat too fast, and he almost tripped over his own shoelaces when his mother called out, “A-Ying! Lan Wangji is here!”

“Why him?!” Wei Ying groaned, but his ears turned red as he rushed down.

Outside, Lan Wangji waited by the car, calm as ever, holding open the passenger door. Wei Ying’s parents waved from the porch.

“You’ll be fine, A-Ying,” his mother said warmly. “And we’re glad Wangji is with you.”

Wei Ying ducked his head, cheeks hot. He climbed into the car without looking at Wangji, mumbling, “Don’t look at me like that. I’m nervous, okay?”

“…Mn,” Wangji said softly, his eyes lingering on him anyway.

The college courtyard was buzzing with new students, laughter, and introductions. Wei Ying hopped out, trying to look casual, but every step felt heavy.

Of course, that was the moment a group of curious students noticed him—and the tall, striking figure by his side.

“Hey, Wei Ying!” one of them called. “Who’s that handsome guy? Your brother? Or—”

Wei Ying froze. His face went crimson. He could feel Wangji’s gaze on him, calm but unmovable. His heart thudded in his ears.

Before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out:
“…He’s my boyfriend.”

The group erupted in shocked laughter and teasing whistles. Wei Ying wanted to vanish into the ground, but when he dared to glance sideways, Lan Wangji’s expression didn’t change. His lips pressed the faintest bit tighter—almost a smile.

Wei Ying covered his face with his hand. “Ugh, why did I say that? I’ll die of shame.”

But Wangji only walked beside him, silent, steady, as if that single sentence had carved itself into truth.

Chapter Text

The first day in college was not as easy as Wei Ying had hoped.
The moment Lan Wangji left him in the courtyard, his heart dropped into his stomach. He tried to smile, wave goodbye, and walk in confidently, but the second Wangji turned to leave, the campus suddenly felt huge, noisy, and unfriendly.

What if no one talks to me? What if I say something stupid? What if I trip in front of everyone?

Wei Ying clenched his notebook, almost wishing Wangji would stay. But, of course, Wangji disappeared like mist.

By noon, though, Wei had already made a handful of new friends. His easy grin and playful remarks drew people in like moths to a flame. They laughed at his jokes, invited him to sit with them in the cafeteria, and even asked him to join a study group.

But when classes ended and everyone poured toward the gate, Wei Ying froze again.

Because there, leaning against a sleek black car, was Lan Wangji. Waiting.

Students immediately noticed.
“Whoa, Wei Ying, isn’t that the guy who dropped you off?”
“He’s here again?”
“Bro, he looks loaded. Is he… seriously your boyfriend?”

Wei Ying’s ears turned bright red. He waved his hands frantically. “Don’t—don’t say it so loud!”

But his new friends only smirked. One of them nudged him.
“If he’s really your boyfriend, you should tell him to treat us! Come on, look at that car. He can definitely afford it.”

Wei Ying’s heart sank.
Treat them? With Wangji’s money? No way! How am I supposed to ask him that? It’ll be so shameful! He’ll think I’m using him!

But before he could protest, his friends began chanting, “Treat! Treat! Treat!” like mischievous kids.

His legs felt like jelly as they dragged him toward the car. Wangji’s eyes found him instantly, calm and unreadable. Wei Ying’s throat went dry.

“Uhh…” he started, scratching the back of his neck. “So… my friends… they kind of…”

“Mn?” Wangji tilted his head slightly.

“They… um… want… a treat.” The words came out in a squeak. Wei Ying covered his face. This is it. He’ll think I’m a greedy pig just like that doctor said. He’ll hate me.

But instead of frowning, Lan Wangji simply looked at the group of wide-eyed students and said, in his usual calm tone—

“Where do you want to go?”

The courtyard exploded. His friends shouted suggestions—barbecue, hotpot, karaoke. Wei Ying just wanted the earth to swallow him whole.

He pulled Wangji aside, whispering harshly, “Why did you agree?! I didn’t mean it seriously! They were just teasing!”

Wangji looked at him, eyes steady. “If they are your friends… then it is fine.”

Wei Ying’s heart did a somersault. He wanted to scream and hide and laugh all at once.

Chapter Text

The restaurant buzzed with noise and chatter, but at the center table, Wei Ying sat stiff as a board. His friends were practically glowing, laughing and eating like kings, plates stacked high with food they would never have been able to afford on their own.

And at the head of the table, Lan Wangji sat with the same unshaken calm as always, silently refilling cups of tea and making sure dishes were placed within reach. Every time a friend said, “This is amazing, thank you, gege!” Wei Ying wanted to crawl under the table and die.

Why is he so calm? Why is he acting like this is normal?

He could barely touch his food, cheeks hot as fire. Whenever one of his friends teased, “Wei Ying, you’re really lucky, ah. Your boyfriend’s too good!” he only coughed, waved his hands, and stuffed rice in his mouth to shut them up.

On the way back, the teasing continued. His friends skipped off happily with full stomachs, leaving Wei Ying and Lan Wangji alone.

Wei Ying stared at the road ahead, lips pressed tight. He couldn’t say a single word. Not “thank you,” not “sorry,” not even a stupid joke. His entire brain felt like cotton.

Beside him, Wangji drove quietly, glancing once at the rearview mirror before fixing his gaze forward again. The silence was heavy, but not uncomfortable — at least, not for him.

Wei Ying, on the other hand, wanted to scream. Say something! Anything! But what? “Thanks for treating my friends”? Ugh, they ate like pigs, it’ll sound awful. “Thanks for embarrassing me”? That’s worse. I’m doomed.

He pressed his forehead to the window, watching the city lights blur past. Then, in the sky above, a bunch of balloons slipped free from a street vendor’s stall, floating upward in bright colors.

His eyes caught them for a split second, lingering just a little too long. He quickly looked away, pretending he hadn’t seen anything.

But Lan Wangji noticed. Of course he noticed.

When they stopped at a red light, Wangji’s hand left the steering wheel. Wei Ying blinked as the car door opened.

“Eh? Where are you going?”

Wangji didn’t answer. He crossed the street with steady steps, spoke briefly to the balloon seller, and returned with a bunch of floating balloons held in his elegant fingers. He opened the passenger door, placed the string into Wei Ying’s lap, and sat down again without a word.

Wei Ying stared at the balloons. Stared at Lan Wangji. Stared at the balloons again. His face turned scarlet.

“….”

He didn’t dare look sideways. Didn’t dare look upward. He kept his eyes glued to the road in front of them, sitting with his back straight, as if even one glance at those balloons would kill him on the spot.

Wangji’s lips curved ever so slightly, but he said nothing either.

The ride home continued in silence — one warm, one flustered, both lost in their own thoughts.

Chapter Text

Wei Ying sat in the car, head resting against the window, watching the city blur past. His thoughts kept swirling.

What if every day Lan Wangji came with me? I… I can’t handle it. I’ll be too flustered. My friends, the teasing… the attention… it’s too much.

He sighed, turning to his parents who were sitting beside him in the back.
“Mom, Dad… arrange a car with a driver for me, please. Wanji… no need to come every day. We’ll meet in the evening.”

His parents exchanged a glance but nodded. Wei Ying looked satisfied.

But as the car crawled slowly through traffic, his thoughts betrayed him.

No… wait. Maybe if he came with me, the wait wouldn’t feel so boring. Even traffic wouldn’t be so bad…

He frowned at the thought, cheeks warming involuntarily. Quickly, he tried to shove it away, glaring at the passing cars.

Then something caught his eye — a street vendor selling bright, colorful toy parrots. A mischievous grin spread across his face. He bought one, turning it over in his hands as he plotted.

Perfect. After college, I’ll give it to the driver with instructions. He’ll deliver it to… Lan Wangji’s office. He’ll never see it coming.

Meanwhile, in Wangji’s office, he was buried in work. Reports, spreadsheets, meeting schedules — everything demanded precision. He barely noticed the ticking of the clock.

Until the assistant approached hesitantly, holding a small package.

“Sir… this just arrived… uh…”

Wangji looked up, eyes narrowing. “What is it? I said files, not—”

“The package… it’s from Mr. Wei, sir.”

Wangji froze for a fraction of a second. Then, irritation flared.
“You’re saying he sent… toys?”

“Yes, sir. He requested delivery to your office address.”

Wangji’s lips twitched, and before he knew it, he snatched the parrot from the assistant’s hands. For a long moment, he just stared at it, his fingers brushing against the string.

And then… he smiled.

A real, small, almost guilty smile that lit up the corners of his eyes. His assistant blinked, completely taken aback.

“Sir… are you… okay?” the assistant asked, stepping back nervously.

Wangji’s smile didn’t fade. Instead, he brought a finger to his lips, lightly tapping as if trying to remember a very delicate secret. His mind flashed back to Wei Ying — that shy, flustered boy in the car, trying to hide how much he wanted Wangji there.

The assistant whispered to himself, barely audible:
“Sir… sometimes… sometimes you act mad, then… sometimes… it’s like someone kissed your lips just now. Were you angry… or now smiling?”

Wangji didn’t answer. He only held the toy parrot close, letting the corners of his mouth curl ever so slightly, eyes softening as he thought of Wei Ying’s little trick.

Chapter Text

The day had started brightly enough. Wei Ying had felt oddly light when he stepped onto the college campus, a flutter of excitement still lingering from last night’s mischievous plan with the toy parrot. He thought maybe, just maybe, today would go smoothly.

He was wrong.

The first class began. The physics professor strode in, his voice booming and sharp, echoing off the walls like iron striking against stone.
“Silence! Sit straight! You will listen and learn!”

The sound drilled into Wei Ying’s ears like knives. His temples throbbed. He pressed his fingers lightly to his forehead, but the voice only grew louder, harsher, relentless. Every word pounded like a hammer against his skull.

A headache bloomed—hot, unbearable. His vision swam, but he gritted his teeth.
I can’t… show weakness. Just one class. I can bear it.

When the lecture ended, he stumbled out, gulping for air. His head spun, and all he wanted was to run far, far away. But just as he reached the hallway, he caught sight of someone.

His favorite professor. Biology.

That gentle smile, that soft voice, the one teacher he adored. Wei Ying’s heart clenched. I can’t skip this one. I’ll regret it forever.

So he turned around and walked back into the classroom, despite the ache splitting through his skull.

And then came physics. “Important topic,” the professor said. Important enough that Wei Ying forced himself to sit through it, his fingers gripping the desk to anchor himself while his brain screamed for mercy.

And then… mathematics. A test.

I can’t fail. I can’t look like a fool.

His pen scratched over the paper, his vision blurring, words and numbers melting together. He finished somehow, though his body screamed betrayal.

By the time he stumbled out of class, the world tilted dangerously. His knees trembled. The hall spun. He pressed himself against the cool wall and whispered, “Just… a little water…”

At the canteen, he downed a glass of cold water, hoping it would steady him. It didn’t.

The edges of his vision blackened. His chest tightened. His head throbbed like it would split apart.

Hands shaking, he fumbled for his phone.
“Driver… come… hospital,” he whispered. And then his eyes slid shut, tears leaking helplessly from their corners.

The driver panicked, speeding to his side. He saw Wei Ying slumped, trembling, and fear struck his heart. With shaking hands, he pulled out his phone—the number Lan Wangji had once pressed into his palm for emergencies.

He dialed.

Within minutes, another car screeched across the road, blocking theirs. Lan Wangji jumped out, face pale, eyes blazing with a storm he rarely showed.

He yanked open the door of Wei Ying’s car and climbed inside, gathering him instantly into his arms.

“Wei Ying!” His voice cracked, though low. He hugged him tightly, pressing Wei’s burning forehead to his chest, brushing his damp hair back again and again with trembling fingers.

Wei Ying stirred faintly, arms weakly curling around Wangji’s torso, clutching like a drowning man.
“Am… am I going mad again?” His voice was broken, fragile. “Tell me… am I…?”

Wangji’s jaw tightened, his heart shattering at the desperation in those words. He held Wei closer, breathing him in, his voice deep but trembling with suppressed emotion.

“You think? Foolish. You are not going mad.” He cupped Wei’s cheek firmly, forcing his gaze to meet his own blurred one. “You only pushed too far. You fight too much. That’s all.”

Wei Ying’s tears spilled freely. His chest ached, not only from pain but from a crushing fear he couldn’t name.
“I thought… if I left the class, they’d call me lazy, stupid… I didn’t want to disappoint anyone…”

Lan Wangji’s hand tightened against his back, protective, angry. His voice dropped to a growl.
“They? Those professors? Let them rot. They are blind, heartless. Not worthy of your worry.”

The driver, sitting in the front seat, swallowed hard at Wangji’s tone. The sheer fury restrained in that calm voice made his blood run cold.

Wei Ying pressed his face into Wangji’s chest, breathing shakily. “But… I stayed… I… now look at me. I’m weak.”

Wangji pressed a kiss—swift, barely-there—onto Wei Ying’s damp temple.
“You are not weak. You are strong. Too strong. Strong enough to destroy yourself.” His voice trembled as he whispered, “Don’t do this again. Don’t make me…” He broke off, words caught in his throat.

Wei Ying only clung tighter, sobbing silently, and Wangji rocked him gently, brushing his head again and again as if soothing a child. Wei Ying’s sobs softening. Wangji’s arms tightening. Two heartbeats pressed together, refusing to let go.

("Sometimes I feel like if I ever go crazy, it’ll be Physics ma’am’s fault."🙂) so this chapter I gift for my physics mam😛

Chapter Text

Sunlight streamed gently into the hospital room, golden warmth spilling over white sheets. Wei Ying stirred, blinking sleepily, the medicine still heavy in his veins. For a moment, he felt calm, almost… safe. Then his memory flickered—

Yesterday

Lan Zhan’s arms around him. His breath steady near his ear. The quiet, firm voice whispering reassurance. And then—oh heavens—the soft, grounding press of lips on his forehead.

Wei Ying buried his face in the pillow instantly. Why did he have to remember that now? His cheeks burned as if someone had painted them scarlet. And the worst part? He remembered clinging back, wrapping his arms around Lan Zhan’s waist himself, like a child.

So embarrassing!

Before he could compose himself, the door opened with its usual quiet click. Lan Wangji entered, carrying a thermos in one hand and a bag in the other. His white shirt was perfectly neat as always, though his eyes carried the faint shadow of not having slept.

“Wei Ying,” Wangji said softly, setting the things down.

Wei Ying peeked from under his blanket, then quickly turned his gaze away. His heart thumped wildly. He wanted to say good morning, but the words stuck like stubborn rice in his throat.

Lan Wangji noticed. His brows furrowed faintly. He moved closer to the bed.
“What happened?”

Wei Ying’s fingers tangled nervously in the blanket. Then, in a burst of reckless courage, he blurted, “Why did you kiss me yesterday?”

The room fell silent.

Lan Wangji froze. For once, the unshakable, composed man seemed utterly caught off guard. His ears turned pink at the tips. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.

Wei Ying, inside, was practically bouncing. Aha! He’s the one blushing now. Lan Zhan, the unshakable iceberg, can’t even look at me.

On the outside though, Wei Ying tilted his head with fake innocence, lips twitching at the corner.

Lan Wangji finally spoke, his voice lower than usual, almost as if dragged from the depths of his chest.
“… Because you needed it.”

The words hit Wei Ying like an arrow. His grin faltered, and the blush spread furiously across his face. He quickly pulled the blanket higher, hiding up to his nose.
“Y-you… you can’t just say things like that!” he squeaked.

Wangji’s gaze lingered on him, calm yet unwavering. “Truth should be said.”

Wei Ying kicked his legs under the blanket in frustration. Inside he was screaming, I wanted him speechless, not me! But now it was his own tongue that felt tied.

Still, he couldn’t help smiling under the covers. Lan Zhan’s words are few… but the few he says? They’re like arrows straight to the heart.

Lan Wangji reached out and gently pulled the blanket down just enough to see Wei Ying’s face. His thumb brushed a strand of messy hair away from Wei Ying’s forehead, careful and steady.
“Rest more. Do not think too much.”

Wei Ying, still flushed, muttered, “Easy for you to say. You drop one sentence and leave me speechless for hours…”

Lan Wangji’s lips curved. Just a tiny, almost invisible smile—but enough for Wei Ying to see.

And in that small hospital room, filled with sunlight and unspoken feelings, both of them knew: some words were few, but they carried the weight of entire worlds.

Chapter Text

The car screeched into the hospital gates, tires biting into the ground. The driver jumped out to fetch a wheelchair, but Lan Wangji didn’t wait. He lifted Wei Ying into his arms, and strode straight inside.

Doctors and nurses rushed forward.
disorientation, blurred vision, possible neural strain—quickly, bring him in!”

Wangji laid him gently on the bed, his hand never leaving Wei Ying’s wrist, thumb brushing over his rapid pulse. Wei Ying whimpered, eyes barely opening, and Wangji bent close.
“I am here,” he whispered, voice steady though his heart shook. “You are safe.”

The doctors moved around swiftly, checking vitals, setting up an IV drip, preparing an injection.
“Sir, please step back—” a nurse tried to say.

“No.” Wangji’s voice was low but firm. “He will not take it alone. I will hold him.”

So when the needle pierced Wei Ying’s skin, it was Wangji’s steady hand he clutched, Wangji’s sleeve he bit down on when pain made him whimper.

After a long tense hour, his breathing steadied. His eyelids fluttered, heavy with the medicine pulling him under. He drifted into sleep, his chest rising and falling evenly at last.

Only then did Wangji’s rigid shoulders relax, but his hand still didn’t let go.

By evening, Wei Ying’s parents arrived, their faces pale with fear. They hurried to the doctor, who explained in clipped but firm tones:

“Your son cannot be pressured like this. No more long classes, no noisy or sharp environments. His brain suffered trauma once; he cannot endure heavy strain. If this continues, the damage may worsen. He must avoid stress, loud voices, loud music… even overexertion.”

Wei Ying’s father nodded grimly.

Then the doctor added, “He needs calm. Gentle teaching. Step by step.”

In the silence that followed, Wangji’s voice finally broke through. Low, certain.
“He does not have to attend college daily.”

The parents turned,

Wangji looked straight at them, his tone unwavering.
“I will arrange for good professors to come home. They will teach him slowly, without pressure. I will instruct them myself—no extra work, no heavy load. Only steady preparation for his college path.”

Chapter Text

That night, the hospital ward was quiet. Wei Ying had finally convinced his parents to go home, and Lan Zhan had left only after making sure he drank warm milk and was tucked in like a child.

He drifted off.

In his dream, red lanterns hung in rows, glowing like fireflies. Music echoed faintly. Wei Ying blinked, looking down—and nearly fainted.

He was dressed in wedding robes. Bright crimson, golden embroidery, heavy crown, everything.
“What—what the hell!?” he squeaked.

Before he could move, a strong hand slid into his. He turned—and there stood Lan Zhan, immaculate in his own red robes, looking calm as ever.

“Wei Ying,” he said, voice steady, “come.”

Wei Ying’s legs wobbled as they were led into a room decorated with candles and silk drapes. The wedding chamber. His ears turned redder than the robes.

The next moment, Lan Zhan bent, scooping him up in his arms bridal-style.
“Lan Zhan!!! Put me down!” Wei Ying yelped, flailing.

“Mn,” Lan Zhan replied calmly, carrying him to the bed as if Wei Ying weighed nothing.

Wei Ying’s face burned. He scrambled mentally—this can’t be happening, this is a dream, right? This is definitely a dream!

Lan Zhan laid him down carefully. Then, leaning over, he pressed a kiss to his forehead. Soft, lingering.

Wei Ying’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

Then came a kiss to his eyes.
“Ah—Lan Zhan! Stop—” Wei Ying tried to cover his face, but those gentle lips slid lower, brushing his nose.

Wei Ying squeaked like a mouse.

Next—the lips pressed to his mouth. Warm, firm, stealing his breath. Wei Ying’s hands clutched at Lan Zhan’s sleeves, mind spinning like fireworks.

But Lan Zhan didn’t stop. A trail of heat brushed down to his jaw, then his neck.
“Lan Zhan! This isn’t PG-13 anymore!!” Wei Ying shrieked, half laughing, half panicking.

Lan Zhan ignored him, lips grazing his collarbone, chest, moving lower—

Wei Ying bolted upright in bed with a scream.
“Aaahhh!!!”

His heart thundered. His face was so hot he thought it might set the blanket on fire.
“What—what was that!? Why did my brain show me that!?!” he groaned, burying his face in the pillow.

He kicked his legs helplessly, whining like a child. “Stupid Lan Zhan! Even in my dream you don’t stop! And I—ugh, I let you, too! I’m finished! Wei Ying, you’re finished!!”

He tried splashing water on his face, but that only made him remember the forehead kiss—dream and real one both. He collapsed back onto the bed, rolling side to side like a tangled caterpillar in the blanket.

By the time sleep finally claimed him again, his last thought was:
Tomorrow, I’m not looking at him. Not his lips. Not his eyes. Not anything. Or… or maybe just a little. Ughhh, I’m doomed…

Chapter Text

After came home from hospital Weiying had decided he wouldn’t waste time anymore. Ever since tutors started coming, he had been studying properly, but now, with exams near, he was more determined than ever. He wanted to prove himself. Not only to his parents, not only to himself—but also, maybe, to that quiet man who always looked at him with eyes deeper than words.

The morning of his first exam, his nerves were dancing like firecrackers. But when he stepped outside, he froze. A sleek car was waiting at the gate, and leaning casually against it was Lan Wangji.

“Lan Zhan?” Wei blinked, clutching his penbag.
“You will come and go with me during your exams,” Lan Wangji said simply, opening the door for him. His tone wasn’t a request—it was care disguised as command.

Inside the car, Wei fidgeted with his penbag. The silence was comfortable, but his restless heart wanted to break it. So he unzipped the bag, pulling out a collection of ridiculous pens—one shaped like an ice cream, one with a Mickey Mouse head, a rose pen, a kitten, a carrot, and, finally, a small fluffy bunny.

“Lan Zhan,” he asked dramatically, waving them like he was presenting treasures, “which one should I use in the exam?”

Lan Wangji glanced at them, expression unreadable.
“Which one is your favorite?”

Wei didn’t even hesitate. He lifted the bunny pen high, grinning. “This one! It’s cute, like me, right?”

For a second, Wei thought Lan Zhan would ignore his joke. But then, calm and serious, he answered, “You are cuter than the bunny.”

Wei choked on air. His ears burned red instantly. Aiya, why does he always say things like this so calmly, like it’s just fact? He wanted to laugh it off, but his heart was racing too hard. He shoved the bunny pen back in his bag before it gave away his smile.

When they reached the college, Wei hurriedly got out, trying to escape before his face betrayed him further. But then—

“Weiying.”

The way Lan Zhan’s voice called his name stopped him in his tracks. He turned, curious.

And suddenly, he was pulled closer, not harshly, but firmly enough that he stumbled into the warmth of that presence. Lan Wangji leaned down, pressed a kiss gently against his forehead, and whispered:

“All the best.”

Wei’s brain blanked. His entire face turned scarlet—like a ripe tomato that had just fallen into the sun. Without a word, he spun on his heel and bolted toward the building. Behind him, Lan Wangji’s lips curved ever so slightly into a smile, rare and precious.

The exam itself was a blur. Questions, answers, time ticking. But Wei wasn’t sure if his hand was steady because of the bunny pen… or because of the kiss still burning on his forehead.

When it was over, he stepped out, exhausted but relieved. And then—there he was. Lan Wangji stood by the gate, tall and steady, holding a bunch of pale pink peonies.

Wei stopped dead. His heart jumped into his throat. People around him whispered, some pointing, some smiling knowingly.

Lan Wangji walked forward, offering the bouquet.
“Congratulations on your first exam.”

Wei stared, stunned, before slowly reaching out and taking the flowers. His fingers brushed against Lan Wangji’s, and he looked away quickly, ears red again. But his lips couldn’t stop curling into the tiniest, shyest smile.

Somewhere in his chest, he admitted—he liked this feeling.

Chapter Text

The last exam was finally over. Relief sat heavy on Wei Ying’s shoulders, but his heart was light, like he could run across clouds. When he came out of the college gates, Lan Wangji was waiting, as always. But this time, instead of flowers or pens, he said simply:

“Come with me. A treat.”

Wei Ying grinned, unable to hide his excitement. The restaurant was warm, filled with the smell of roasted duck and spices. They ate until their stomachs hurt, laughing at little things—Wei Ying insisting he could eat ten more bowls, Lan Wangji silently sliding another plate in front of him.

But when they stepped outside, the weather had turned wild. Rain poured in silver sheets, thunder rolled across the sky, and wind bent the trees nearly in half. The roads were already blocked.

Lan Wangji called Wei Ying’s parents, his tone respectful but firm.
“The road is closed. I will take care of him tonight.”

Wei Ying, overhearing, blinked in shock. His house?

The car glided through the storm until a tall, elegant house appeared, glowing softly in the night. It was quiet, vast, yet strangely warm. Wei Ying’s eyes widened as he stepped inside.

“You live here?!” he gasped.

“Mn,” Lan Wangji replied, setting aside his umbrella. He led Wei Ying upstairs. “This will be your room tonight.”

It wasn’t just any room. The bed was wide, soft, covered in pale linen, with books neatly stacked at the corner. Wei Ying turned slowly, amazed. Before he could tease, Lan Wangji handed him a folded shirt and trousers.

“Bath first. You will be comfortable.”

Wei Ying took them and darted into the washroom. Warm steam rose around him as he bathed, his skin flushing from the heat. But halfway through, he realized—he had left the towel and clothes outside, neatly placed on the bed.

“Aiya,” he muttered, dripping water. “What do I do now?”

Just as he peeked out, Lan Wangji entered quietly, carrying a tray with warm soup and noodles. He froze mid-step.

Wei Ying stood there, hair wet, water sliding down his neck, lips bitten red from nervous chewing.

For a heartbeat, time stopped. Lan Wangji’s fingers tightened around the tray.

Wei Ying noticed his silence, and a mischievous smile curved his lips. He tilted his body slightly, pretending to stumble.

Lan Wangji dropped the tray instantly, catching him in his arms. But momentum dragged them both backward—straight into the bathtub filled with warm water.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying gasped, laughing even as water splashed around them.

Lan Wangji tried to stand immediately, stiff, embarrassed. “I will leave—”

But soft arms wrapped around his waist, stopping him. Wei Ying’s voice was low, almost a whisper.
“Don’t go. Let’s… bath together.”

The words, the closeness, the heat of water—it all tangled around Lan Wangji’s control. He hesitated, but then lowered his head, lips brushing against Wei Ying’s. Once, twice—gentle, searching.

Wei Ying shivered, clinging tighter. When Lan Wangji kissed down his neck, his chest, tracing the line of his skin until his lips hovered at his bellybutton, Wei Ying let out a sharp breath and bit Lan Zhan’s shoulder, leaving a mark.

The air was hot, charged.

But suddenly, Lan Wangji pulled back, his forehead pressing against Wei Ying’s. His voice was husky, shaking with restraint.
“No more. Not yet. We are not married.”

Wei Ying blinked up, surprised, touched, his heart a mess.

Lan Wangji stood, dripping, and stepped out. He changed quickly, then returned with calm composure, as if nothing had happened. He fed Wei Ying with his own hands, spoon by spoon, until the bowl was empty. Then he tucked him under the blanket, smoothing his hair with long, gentle strokes.

“Sleep,” he whispered, voice softer than rain.

Wei Ying, warmth still burning on his lips and skin, slowly drifted off, his breath even.

Lan Wangji lingered by the bed, watching for a long time, before retreating to his own room. Lying in the dark, he closed his eyes, but all he could see was the bath—wet hair clinging to pale skin, laughter, the way Wei Ying hugged him and whispered. His body ached with restraint, but his heart ached even more—with longing.

That night, the storm outside raged on. But inside, two people slept in the same house, their dreams unknowingly reaching for each other.

Chapter Text

The rain had washed the city clean by morning. The roads still glistened with water, puddles catching the pale sunlight. Inside Lan Wangji’s house, the silence was heavy, only broken by the faint clatter of dishes being set in the dining room.

Wei Ying came downstairs slowly, his wet hair neatly tied, dressed again in his own clothes that had been dried overnight. His steps were light, but his face was not. Every time his mind tried to recall last night—the warm water, Lan Zhan’s lips tracing his skin—his cheeks burned red.

Lan Wangji was already at the table, dressed in his crisp white shirt, calm as ever. Except his chopsticks paused midair when Wei Ying entered. Their eyes met.

Neither spoke.

Wei Ying sat, picked up a bun, and stuffed half of it into his mouth just to avoid words. His hand trembled slightly, but he acted as if it was nothing. Don’t think about the bath. Don’t think about him feeding you. Don’t think about the way he said not yet…

Lan Wangji’s gaze lingered on him longer than usual. He looked perfectly composed, but inside his thoughts were in chaos. Last night… I lost control. I touched too much, kissed too much. If I had not stopped—

The silence stretched. Finally, Wei Ying broke it, his tone deliberately casual.
“Um… thanks for… you know… letting me stay.”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji replied, voice low.

Wei Ying bit his bun harder, trying to hide his blush. Why can’t he just act embarrassed too?!

After breakfast, Lan Wangji drove him home. The car ride was painfully quiet. Wei Ying kept fiddling with his sleeves, staring out the window. He felt the weight of Lan Wangji’s presence beside him—steady, strong, but also unreadable.

When they reached the Wei residence, Wei Ying unbuckled quickly, eager to escape. But before stepping out, he paused, turned just slightly toward him.
“About… last night…”

Lan Wangji’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. He wanted to say something, but no words came. He only managed, “Take care of yourself.”

Wei Ying’s heart twisted strangely. He nodded fast and almost ran inside.

Lan Wangji sat in the car for a long time, unmoving. His reflection stared back from the windshield.

I lost control.

He touched his lips, remembering the taste of Wei Ying’s skin, the heat of his breath, the way he clung to him in the bathtub. His chest ached, not from regret—but from how much he wanted more.

For years, he had lived like a machine, cold and precise. But with Wei Ying… one night was enough to unravel all his restraint.

Chapter Text

The last night still clung to Wei Ying’s cheeks like heat after wine. Every time his mind wandered, he saw himself clinging to Lan Zhan in the bathtub, saw the man’s pale ears burning red, saw the way he had carried him like something fragile.

Morning came, but Wei Ying’s heart didn’t calm. If anything, it beat harder when Lan Zhan appeared again, silent and composed, to take him out for some fresh air.

Wei Ying thought, If I don’t tease him today, I’ll die of embarrassment instead.

So halfway down the quiet road, he leaned against the car window, lips curving.
“Lan Zhan…” he said in a sing-song tone.

A soft hum came from the driver’s seat.

“If one day I said I like you, would you believe me? Or would you think I’m joking, like I always do?”

The question was light, a trap hidden under his laugh. He wanted Lan Zhan to blush, maybe scold him, maybe stay silent.

Instead, Lan Zhan’s hand tightened on the wheel. His gaze stayed forward, but his voice was low, steady, almost trembling at the edges.
“I would believe you.”

Wei Ying blinked. He felt like the car had suddenly filled with thick air, impossible to breathe in.
“Huh—ah, really?”

Lan Zhan’s ears turned red. “En. I… would always believe you.”

Wei Ying swallowed, laughter dying in his throat. He’s serious. Dead serious. His heart skipped in a way that made his chest ache.

He quickly looked away, ears hot. “Aiya, you’re too honest, Lan Zhan. What if I was just teasing?”

Lan Zhan’s lips pressed into a line. “Then I will wait until you are not teasing.”

Wei Ying wanted to melt into the seat. His own trick had backfired—Lan Zhan’s rare words struck straight into his chest.

Later that day, after classes, Wei Ying spotted one of his new classmates laughing with Lan Zhan outside the gate. She was bold, leaning too close, asking if he was single. Lan Zhan, as always, answered politely but distantly.

But Wei Ying… his stomach twisted. His feet carried him forward before his brain could think. He wedged himself between them, glaring.

“He’s not free,” Wei Ying declared loudly. “He’s mine. Understand? M-i-n-e. My baby.”

The girl blinked in shock. “Your—your what?”

Lan Zhan froze, stunned by the word.

Wei Ying, realizing what came out of his own mouth, turned scarlet but lifted his chin. “You heard me. Baby. Mine. So stop buzzing around him like a mosquito!”

The girl fled, muttering.

Silence lingered. Wei Ying’s heart pounded. Oh no, oh no, did I really just say that?

Then Lan Zhan slowly leaned down, golden eyes burning. His voice was soft, but firm:
“…En. I am yours.”

Wei Ying felt his legs give out. “Lan Zhan, don’t just say things like that! My heart can’t—can’t handle—!” He clutched his chest dramatically, but inside he was grinning, thrilled and embarrassed to death.

Lan Zhan straightened, but his lips curved in the faintest smile, the kind Wei Ying rarely saw.
“You called me your baby. Then… you must also be mine.”

Wei Ying covered his face with both hands. “Aaaaaah, I regret everything!”

But secretly, he didn’t regret a single word.

Chapter Text

The day had been calm.when Lan Zhan came to pick him up after class, he jumped in the car with bright eyes.

“Lan Zhan, you look so serious again. Smile for me, ah?” Wei teased, poking his arm.

Lan Zhan glanced at him, a tiny curve brushing his lips. “En. For you.”

Wei Ying felt his ears burn. He quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the window. This man is going to kill me with only two words!

The road stretched ahead, rain clouds gathering above. They were talking about silly things—Wei’s tutors, weiyings dislike of vegetables —when suddenly, Lan Zhan’s expression sharpened. His foot pressed the brake.

The car didn’t slow.

Instead, it lurched forward, engine growling.

“Lan Zhan…?” Wei Ying’s voice wavered.

Lan Zhan pressed harder, his jaw tightening. Still no response. The brake had failed.

“Hold on,” Lan Zhan said firmly, one hand gripping the wheel, the other reaching across to clutch Wei Ying’s trembling fingers.

Wei Ying froze, panic flooding his chest. His breaths came sharp, shallow. The road blurred. “No, no, not again—!”

Lan Zhan looked at him sharply. “Wei Ying. Nothing will happen to you.”

But Wei couldn’t hear. His mind had already dragged him years back—to that school tour, the bus hurtling off-road, the screams of his classmates, the sound of metal crushing against rock. He remembered clutching the seat, praying, the smell of blood. He had survived, but the memory never left.

Now, trapped again, he was shaking violently. “Lan Zhan! We’re going to crash—we—”

Lan Zhan’s voice cut through like steel. “Wei Ying! Look at me.”

Wei Ying’s wide eyes turned to him.

“I will not let you be hurt.”

In the next breath, Lan Zhan jerked the wheel, angling the car toward the trees by the roadside. The metal screamed as the car slammed against the thick trunk. Glass shattered, flying like cruel rain.

Wei Ying cried out—but the world felt muffled.

Because Lan Zhan had pulled him into his chest, wrapping his arms around him like a shield. Wei Ying’s face pressed against warm fabric, his body completely hidden inside Lan Zhan’s embrace. He couldn’t even see the glass shards piercing through windows, couldn’t feel the jolt of the crash—he only felt Lan Zhan’s steady heartbeat, pounding like a promise.

The car groaned, then stilled.

Silence.

Wei Ying trembled, clutching Lan Zhan’s shirt. “Lan Zhan…? Are we—are we safe?”

No answer came immediately. Slowly, Lan Zhan loosened his hold, brushing Wei’s hair back. “You’re safe,” he murmured. His voice was calm, but his breathing was uneven.

Wei Ying blinked up at him—then his heart stopped.

On the back of Lan Zhan’s pristine white shirt, dark red was spreading. Blood, soaking through, running down. Shards of glass had embedded themselves deep in his shoulders, his back, cutting where he had shielded Wei.

Wei Ying’s throat closed. “You—you’re bleeding—Lan Zhan!”

He tried to push forward, to check the wounds, but Lan Zhan gently cupped his face, forcing him to meet his eyes. Those golden eyes were unwavering, even in pain.
“As long as you’re safe,” he whispered, “it doesn’t matter.”

Wei Ying’s tears spilled instantly. He clung to him like a child, voice breaking. “Don’t say that! Don’t—how can I be safe if you’re bleeding like this? You idiot, why would you—!”

Lan Zhan winced slightly, his body heavy, but still he tucked Wei Ying close again, as if he were afraid the world would snatch him away.

In that trembling moment, Wei Ying realized—Lan Zhan hadn’t just saved him. He had given everything without hesitation, as if Wei’s life was more precious than his own.

Wei Ying buried his face in his chest, sobbing. “Lan Zhan… never, never scare me like this again…”

Outside, the storm rumbled, but inside that ruined car, Wei Ying only heard one sound—the steady, bleeding heartbeat of the man who had chosen to protect him at any cost.

Chapter Text

The road was silent. No headlights, no engines—only the distant roll of thunder and the soft hiss of rain dripping from the leaves above.

The car sat crooked against the tree, its hood smoking faintly. Inside, the shattered glass sparkled like cruel stars.

Wei Ying’s hands shook as he pulled out his phone, dialing emergency services with trembling fingers. His voice cracked as he begged for an ambulance, giving the location with broken words. When the call ended, he turned back to Lan Zhan—and his heart split open.

Lan Zhan was still upright, still shielding him though the crash was over. His lips pressed tightly together, his golden eyes trying to remain calm—but the deep crimson staining his white shirt betrayed everything.

“Lan Zhan… why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?” Wei Ying whispered, his throat tight.

Lan Zhan’s reply was quiet, steady despite the blood running down his back. “Because you were afraid. I wanted you to feel safe first.”

Tears blurred Wei Ying’s vision. His hands hovered uselessly before he finally whispered, “Idiot… stupid, stupid idiot,” and began working with frantic care.

With shaking fingers, Wei Ying tugged at Lan Zhan’s shirt, unbuttoning it clumsily. The fabric stuck to his skin, heavy with blood. Every time he pulled it free, Lan Zhan winced faintly, but said nothing—just watched Wei Ying with that same steady gaze.

Wei Ying bit his lip so hard he tasted blood himself. “Don’t… don’t you dare close your eyes, Lan Zhan. Look at me. Stay with me.”

One by one, he carefully plucked the glass shards from Lan Zhan’s back and shoulders. Some were small and shallow, others long and buried deep. His fingers trembled, his chest heaved, but still he forced himself to be steady.

Each shard came out with a tiny sound of tearing flesh, a fresh well of blood. Wei Ying’s tears fell onto Lan Zhan’s skin as he worked. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—just a little more—don’t hate me—”

When the last shard was free, he had nothing but his own shirt. With a desperate motion, he pulled it off, pressing the fabric gently against the wounds. He wiped the blood in small circles, careful, as though Lan Zhan’s body were made of fragile porcelain.

“You saved me,” Wei Ying whispered, his voice breaking. “So let me save you, just once, okay? Just this once…”

Lan Zhan’s breath was ragged, but a faint, almost invisible smile curved his lips. “You… already saved me. The moment you… stayed.”

Wei Ying sobbed, pressing harder with the bloodied shirt. “Shut up—don’t talk like that. The ambulance is coming. You’ll be fine. You have to be fine.”

In the distance, the faint sound of sirens began to grow. Blue and red lights flickered through the trees. Relief crashed over Wei Ying, but he didn’t let go of Lan Zhan—not even for a second.

When the paramedics arrived, they pulled the doors open, voices urgent. “Sir, please move aside—let us handle him!”

But Wei Ying clung tighter, shielding Lan Zhan as if the world itself might snatch him away. His voice cracked, raw and trembling:

“Don’t you dare hurt him more. Don’t you dare. He’s mine to protect.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes fluttered open, golden light dim but warm, and for the first time he let himself lean against Wei Ying completely—trusting him to hold the weight of his body, his pain, his everything.

Chapter Text

The hospital smelled of antiseptic and cold iron. The white corridors echoed with hurried footsteps and distant calls. Wei Ying sat outside the emergency room, hands clenched so tightly together that his knuckles turned pale.

Minutes stretched into hours—or maybe it just felt that way. His ears rang with the sound of that crash, of Lan Zhan’s voice promising him safety. Over and over, Wei Ying whispered under his breath, please be okay… please be okay…

Finally, the door opened. The doctor stepped out, his face calm, professional. “Mr. Lan is stable now. We’ve cleaned the wounds, removed the glass, stitched and dressed them. He lost blood but nothing fatal. He’s going to be fine.”

The weight crushing Wei Ying’s chest vanished in an instant. His eyes flooded with tears of relief. He barely remembered standing up, only that his legs carried him quickly into the room.

Lan Zhan was sitting up on the bed, pale but composed, the steady lines of his face as calm as ever. His white shirt was gone, replaced by a loose hospital gown, the bandages peeking faintly beneath.

Wei Ying stopped for a moment, staring, his heart pounding. He crossed the room, grabbed Lan Zhan’s hand with both of his, and sat down heavily at his side.

“Lan Zhan,” he whispered, voice trembling. “I… I have something to tell you.”

Lan Zhan’s golden eyes softened. “Mn.”

Wei Ying’s breath hitched. His lips parted, and the words tumbled out, fragile yet strong:

“I remember.”

Lan Zhan blinked once. His fingers tightened around Wei Ying’s.

Wei Ying smiled shakily, tears sliding down his cheeks. “The first day… when I pushed you into the manhole because you say me nonsense and I am not. And later—you gave me peonies.” His voice cracked, breaking into laughter through tears. “Do you know, I even kissed you once, back then? I’m sorry I forgot everything… but I remember now. All of it.”

Lan Zhan’s composure broke, his throat moving as if he swallowed a hundred unsaid words. His grip on Wei Ying’s hand turned desperate.

Wei Ying leaned forward, pressing his forehead gently against Lan Zhan’s shoulder. His voice was muffled but clear. “When you went away… I didn’t know why I was so sad. Every evening I sat waiting, thinking—maybe someone will come with candies, or chocolates, maybe someone who smells warm and safe.”

Lan Zhan lifted his arms slowly, as though afraid this moment might shatter if he moved too fast, and wrapped Wei Ying into his embrace. His face buried into Wei Ying’s hair, his lips trembling against the strands.

“Mn,” he whispered against him, voice raw. “I never stopped coming back for you.”

Wei Ying clung tighter, his tears dampening Lan Zhan’s hospital gown. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry for making you wait so long.”

For a few blessed minutes, there was nothing in the world except their breathing, the steady thump of two hearts finally finding their rhythm again.

But then, the doctor came back, clearing his throat apologetically. “Mr. Wei… he needs rest now. Please allow him to recover.”

Wei Ying lifted his head reluctantly, still holding onto Lan Zhan’s hand. His lips quivered with the words he didn’t want to say.

“Then… I’ll come back tomorrow. Sleep well, Lan Zhan.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes held his, unwilling to let go. But the doctor’s gaze was firm. Wei Ying finally released his hand, the empty space between their palms aching like a wound.

As he walked out of the room, both of them turned once, eyes locking one last time before the door shut. Two unsatisfied hearts, burning with the need to stay, forced apart by circumstance.

And yet—now, they both knew. The memories were no longer lost.

They belonged to each other. Always.

Chapter Text

A very first morning Wei Ying woke up with swollen eyes and a heart full of restless energy. His memories had returned, but so had the guilt—years lost, words unsaid, love left waiting. He couldn’t sit still.

So, he began with the simplest thing.

He cooked.

His parents woke to the smell of slightly burnt congee, fried eggs, and something suspiciously sweet. In the kitchen, Wei Ying stood proudly with an apron far too big for him. “Breakfast!” he announced, waving a spoon like a sword.

When asked who it was for, he only grinned and said, “For my patient, of course.”

By noon, a food box filled with clumsily packed dishes arrived at Lan Zhan’s hospital room. Wei Ying didn’t come himself—too shy after yesterday—but the note inside read:

‘Eat this or else. Doctors feed you boring food. – Wei Ying’

Lan Zhan’s lips curved in the faintest smile as he ate every bite.

The second day, Lan Zhan’s assistant delivered flowers to his room—a whole vase of peonies, fresh and pink. The card was messily written but clear:

‘These are mine. Only I can give you peonies. – Wei Ying’

Lan Zhan touched the petals gently, remembering the kiss under the bed, the roses, the way Wei Ying had once called him “sweet prince.”

On the third day, Wei Ying finally gathered courage and visited again. He came with a stack of comic books under his arm, cheeks red as he pushed them into Lan Zhan’s hands. “I remembered you never laugh… so, here. Read these. But don’t say I gave them, or you’ll ruin my reputation.”

Lan Zhan said nothing, but later that evening, the nurse walked in and caught him quietly chuckling over the pages.

Each day brought something small—a silly note, a candy bar, a folded paper crane. Nothing grand. Nothing dramatic. But every gesture whispered the same truth: I remember you. I love you. I won’t forget again.

And with each gesture, the heavy ache inside Lan Zhan began to ease.

For the first time, Wei Ying wasn’t just waiting for Lan Zhan to chase him. He was chasing back.

Chapter Text

Wei Ying peeked into Lan Zhan’s hospital room with his usual grin, though his eyes still betrayed exhaustion.

“Lan Zhan,” he said, stepping closer. “Tomorrow’s your big release day. I’ll come and pick you up myself—so don’t you dare leave without me, okay?”

Lan Zhan nodded, his hand tightening slightly on Wei Ying’s wrist before letting go. “Mn.”

Wei Ying chuckled nervously, “Don’t look at me like that, I’m not abandoning you. Tomorrow, I’ll be there.”

That promise still lingered in the air when Wei Ying left the hospital late that evening.

The night outside was unusually quiet. Wei Ying shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket, humming softly as he walked down the narrow road by the hospital gates. But before he could take another step, a sharp smell filled his nose.

A hand pressed a handkerchief over his mouth from behind.

“Mmph—!” Wei Ying struggled, thrashing against the iron grip. The world spun, his limbs grew weak, and within seconds, everything went black.

The van door slammed shut, swallowing him whole.

The next morning, Lan Zhan was dressed and waiting in the hospital courtyard. A small bag hung at his side, but his eyes were only searching for one person.

Minutes stretched into hours. Still, no Wei Ying.

He tried calling—once, twice, five times—but Wei Ying’s phone was switched off. A faint crease formed between Lan Zhan’s brows.

Finally, he dialed Wei Ying’s parents.

“Aiya, Lan Zhan,” Auntie Wei said, surprised. “Isn’t Wei Ying with you? He didn’t come home last night. He told us he might be staying with you at the hospital.”

Lan Zhan’s blood ran cold.

“No,” he said, voice lower than usual. “He left last night.”

For the first time in years, a storm flickered across his calm face. He ended the call and immediately turned to the hospital guards.

“You,” his voice was sharp, demanding. “CCTV footage. Now.”

The guards exchanged uneasy glances, realizing this was no ordinary young man. The weight of his authority pressed down, and they scrambled to obey.

Lan Zhan stood rigid, heart pounding behind his calm mask. The image of Wei Ying’s grin last night—‘Tomorrow, I’ll come for you’—echoed in his head.

And now Wei Ying was gone.

Chapter Text

Lan Zhan’s jaw clenched as the grainy CCTV footage flickered across the monitor. He saw a tall figure in a white coat leading Wei Ying toward a black car parked at the edge of the hospital compound. His hands curled into fists.

“Doctor…” he whispered, eyes narrowing.

Without a word, he turned on his heel, the weight of his fury enough to scatter the guards who stood in his way. Within minutes, his car screeched to a halt outside an isolated house on the edge of the city. The police he had called followed close behind.

Lan Zhan walked up to the door, shoulders squared. He didn’t knock—he pushed it open.

Inside, the doctor sat calmly in an armchair, sipping tea like a man expecting company.

“Good evening,” the doctor said smoothly. “I knew you’d come.”

Lan Zhan strode forward in two long steps, grabbing the doctor’s collar and dragging him up from the chair. His voice was low, dangerous.

“Where. Is. Wei Ying?”

The doctor smirked faintly, though his hands trembled. “Sleeping. In the other room. Go.”

Lan Zhan shoved him back against the chair and ran.

He burst into a dimly lit bedroom. There, Wei Ying lay curled on a bed, breathing softly, his hair falling over his face. Relief washed over Lan Zhan’s face, cracking his stoic mask.

He rushed to the bed and scooped Wei Ying into his arms. “Weiying… Weiying! Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

Wei Ying’s eyes fluttered open. They were hazy, frightened. “W–who are you?” he whispered.

Lan Zhan froze. “It’s me. Lan Zhan. Your Lan Zhan.”

Wei Ying’s lip trembled. “Please… leave me. I didn’t do anything. Don’t take me.”

Something inside Lan Zhan cracked. “Weiying, no. I will not hurt you. What happened to you? You don’t remember me?”

Wei Ying pushed at his chest weakly, scrambling out of his arms and stumbling toward the door. But Lan Zhan caught him before he could run.

“Don’t touch me!” Wei Ying cried, thrashing.

Lan Zhan held him tight, his own heart hammering. “It’s me, Weiying. I waited for you. I searched for you. Please…”

He turned sharply back to the living room, dragging the terrified doctor forward. “What did you do to him?”

The doctor raised his hands. “I didn’t do anything! If he doesn’t like you anymore, that’s my fault? I gave him a mild sedative to calm him. Maybe it… interfered with his memory.”

Lan Zhan’s grip tightened. “Lies. Arrest him.”

The police officer hesitated. “Sir… we have no proof of a crime. We can’t—”

Lan Zhan’s voice cut like ice. “I said arrest him.”

Something in his tone made the officers pale. They handcuffed the doctor immediately.

Meanwhile, Wei Ying had pressed himself into a corner, trembling. “Leave me… leave me…” he whispered over and over.

Lan Zhan walked toward him slowly, then crouched and scooped him up again, ignoring the nails digging into his arms, the small bites and kicks.

He held him tightly to his chest like a frightened child. “Shh… Weiying. I will not let you go. I will not let you forget me. You are mine. You are the one I waited for.”

Wei Ying struggled weakly but couldn’t break free. Lan Zhan walked out of the house with him in his arms, his long coat fluttering in the cold night air. He opened the car door, settled Wei Ying in his lap like a baby, and held him close as the car pulled away.

Inside the car, Wei Ying pressed his palms against Lan Zhan’s chest, eyes wild. “Let me go…”

Lan Zhan stroked his damp hair gently. “No. I will never hurt you. You will remember. Even if the world forgets, I will not.”

Wei Ying stilled, trembling against him. Lan Zhan tightened his hold, his jaw set. You have to remember me, Weiying, he thought, staring out at the dark road ahead. I will not lose you. Not again.

Chapter Text

Lan Zhan drove straight to the hospital with Wei Ying trembling in his lap. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel; his heart thundered louder than the tires on the road.

By the time they arrived, Wei Ying was half-conscious, murmuring incoherently. Doctors and nurses rushed forward as soon as they saw the blood on Lan Zhan’s sleeve and the terrified boy in his arms.

They wheeled Wei Ying into an observation room, attaching monitors and shining lights into his pupils. Lan Zhan stood to the side, fists clenched, jaw set. He hated feeling helpless.

After a tense fifteen minutes, a senior doctor came out.

“Mr. Lan,” the doctor said carefully, “whatever that man gave him—it may have been a hypnotic or a drug. We’re not sure yet. If we give him anything without knowing what’s already in his system, it could worsen his condition. It’s safer to let his body clear it naturally.”

Lan Zhan’s voice was low and sharp. “Then what do we do?”

“We’ll give him a mild sleep injection,” the doctor replied. “If his mind rests, there’s a good chance he’ll recover some memory on his own after a proper sleep. Keep him somewhere quiet. Familiar faces. Gentle environment.”

Lan Zhan nodded once. “Do it.”

He stepped into the room. Wei Ying was sitting up weakly, eyes glassy. Lan Zhan brushed his hair back. “Weiying… I’m here.”

The nurse injected a small dose, and Wei Ying’s eyelids fluttered shut almost instantly. Lan Zhan caught him before he slumped sideways.

He called Wei Ying’s parents from the corridor. “He’s safe with me. The doctor drugged him, but he’s stable. Don’t come tonight—just rest. I’ll take care of him.”

With the sleeping boy cradled against his chest, Lan Zhan left the hospital, his long coat brushing the ground.

Back at the mansion, the storm clouds had gathered thick overhead. In the soft golden glow of his bedroom, Lan Zhan laid Wei Ying gently on the bed. He pulled off his shoes, tucked the blanket around him, and leaned down to press a kiss to his cool forehead.

Hours later, in the dead of night, Wei Ying stirred. His eyes blinked open. He saw the silhouette of Lan Zhan sitting at the edge of the bed, head bent, one hand gently covering his.

A tear slid down Wei Ying’s cheek. “Leave me… please,” he whispered, voice breaking.

Lan Zhan’s head snapped up. He reached out and wiped the tear with his thumb. “I will never leave you. I love you. I will never hurt you, Weiying.”

Wei Ying’s lips trembled. “I want to go outside…”

Lan Zhan stood immediately. “Then let’s go.”

He took Wei Ying’s hand, wrapping his coat around his thin shoulders, and together they slipped out into the night. The mansion gates opened silently, and Lan Zhan led him down the quiet streets until they stood near an old manhole cover, the very one where their strange story had begun.

Lan Zhan pointed at it gently. “Do you remember? I said you nonsense and you pushed me in.”

Wei Ying was silent. He tilted his head back, staring at the heavy clouds that pressed against the sky. The wind smelled of rain.

Lan Zhan’s voice softened. “You don’t remember?”

For a long moment, only the distant rumble of thunder answered. Then Wei Ying turned his eyes to Lan Zhan’s face.

“Are you…” his voice was barely a whisper, “…my dirty handsome?”

Lan Zhan’s heart lurched. He blinked. “Yes,” he said quickly, voice shaking, “yes. You remember me?”

Another roll of thunder cracked across the sky, louder this time. Wei Ying shuddered and, without thinking, threw his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck. “Your smell… it’s very safe…” he murmured into his chest.

Lan Zhan closed his eyes, holding him tight. He bent down and kissed Wei Ying’s forehead softly. “I know you remember me now.”

The first drops of rain began to fall. Within seconds, it was a steady shower. Lan Zhan scooped Wei Ying up bridal-style, cradling him against his chest as he hurried back to the mansion.

Inside, he laid Wei Ying back in the same bed, brushing damp strands of hair off his face.

Wei Ying’s fingers clutched at his sleeve. “Don’t go.”

Lan Zhan smiled faintly and climbed onto the bed beside him. Wei Ying immediately curled into him, head tucked under his chin.

Lan Zhan wrapped an arm around his back, closing his eyes. The storm rattled the windows, but inside the room it was warm.

“We’ll sleep,” he whispered against Wei Ying’s hair.

Wei Ying gave a tiny sigh of relief and held him tighter. And for the first time in days, both of them drifted off to sleep together, the sound of rain a lullaby to their unspoken fears.

Chapter Text

One week later, Wei Ying was finally back to himself. His laughter returned, his sharp tongue teased the tutors again, and even his parents relaxed after so many nights of worry.

Lan Zhan never left his side. Whether it was quietly watching him study, reminding him to drink soup, or sitting with him on the balcony when Wei Ying pointed at stars, he was there.

By the end of that week, Wei Ying’s parents gathered them both in the living room. His mother smiled softly, “Weiying, you’ve suffered enough storms in life. Lan Zhan has proved how much he loves you. Do you still need to think?”

Wei Ying turned, saw Lan Zhan sitting quietly beside him, his calm eyes only fixed on him. For once, Wei Ying didn’t crack a joke. He simply smiled, eyes glistening.

“I don’t need to think anymore.” He reached over and grabbed Lan Zhan’s hand. “I’m ready.”

The Wedding

The ceremony was simple but beautiful. Wei Ying wore white with a touch of red ribbon at his waist, and Lan Zhan wore a perfectly cut suit, eyes only for him.

Everyone said the CEO looked like a stone-faced god who finally found his sun. Wei Ying, on the other hand, winked and teased half the guests until Lan Zhan tugged him back to his side.

When it was time to exchange vows, Wei Ying’s voice trembled only once. “I… promise to never push you in another manhole. Probably.”

The hall burst into laughter, but Lan Zhan just looked at him, eyes burning with quiet devotion, and whispered, “Forever.”

Wedding Night

The house was silent when they entered their bedroom. Wei Ying stood by the window, looking out at the faint moonlight on the garden. He turned with a grin, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“My choice is good, right? I chose a CEO like you.” He poked Lan Zhan’s chest. “But you—” his voice lowered, “you chose a crazy like me.”

Lan Zhan didn’t hesitate. He leaned down until his breath brushed Wei Ying’s lips. “This is why my choice is special.”

Wei Ying’s teasing vanished, replaced by a blush. He bit his lip, then whispered, “Then… prove it.”

Lan Zhan lifted him in his arms bridal style, carrying him gently to the bed. He laid him down carefully, brushing his fingers over Wei Ying’s cheek as though memorizing every line.

He kissed his forehead first, then the corners of his eyes, then down to his nose, lips—slow, lingering, sweet. Wei Ying’s hands trembled slightly as they fisted into Lan Zhan’s shirt, pulling him closer.

“You’re mine,” Lan Zhan murmured against his skin.

Wei Ying laughed softly, breathless. “Then don’t stop showing me.”

The night was filled with whispers, laughter, and soft gasps—nothing rushed, nothing harsh. Just two souls who had fought storms finally finding shelter in each other.

By the time the first rays of dawn touched the curtains, Wei Ying lay curled against Lan Zhan’s chest, eyes closed, lips curved in a smile.

And Lan Zhan, brushing his hair back gently, whispered the last words before sleep claimed them both:

“My choice forever"

I am sorry I caught to mom so I have to remove my account I am really sorry