Chapter 94: Waking and Dreaming 20.5

To this overblown praise Lan Wangji submitted serenely, drawing open Wei Wuxian's sleeve and tipping every one of the stolen dates into it as he said, ‘For you. All of it, for you.’

Wei Wuxian played along. ‘Thank you.’

But all at once Lan Wangji drew his hand back. A flick of the sleeve, and the whole heap of dates tumbled out, rolling and scattering across the ground. Wei Wuxian stooped in haste to gather them, caught a few, could not keep up. Lan Wangji said, ‘Not giving them to you anymore.’

He seized as well the hen tucked beneath Wei Wuxian's left arm, and cradled one in each of his own. Wei Wuxian caught the trailing end of the ribbon at his brow and tugged him back. ‘Hey, you're not allowed to leave! You were perfectly fine just now — what's set you off this time?’

Lan Wangji shot him a glance. ‘Don't pull.’

His tone, by the sound of it, was none too pleased, and carried something of a warning besides. Without meaning to, Wei Wuxian let go. Lan Wangji lowered his head, shifted both dumbfounded hens into his left hand, and only then freed his right to set his forehead ribbon and his hair to rights.

Wei Wuxian thought to himself, ‘He never once stopped me before, no matter how I played with his ribbon — is he truly angry today?’

He felt it quite necessary to make amends, and pointed at the hen. ‘All right, let the dates go, then — you give me this instead. Didn't we agree you'd make a present of it to me?’

Lan Wangji raised his eyes and regarded him as if weighing him. Wei Wuxian spoke from the heart. ‘I'm begging you. I really do want it. Give it to me.’

At the words, Lan Wangji let his eyelids fall. A good long moment passed before he at last handed back the first hen. Wei Wuxian took it, drew out a date and rubbed it against the cloth over his chest, then bit off half with a crisp crack, thinking that if Lan Zhan wanted to play he might as well play along, and asked, ‘So what is it you want to do next?’ He bit back the words and managed not to say, ‘Whose home are we going to wreck now?’

Lan Wangji knit his brows a fraction and corrected him. ‘We.’

Wei Wuxian said, ‘Fine, fine, fine — we.’

At that Lan Wangji gave a nod, and handed him the date once more after all. Wiping it on his clothes and biting off a few idle mouthfuls, Wei Wuxian thought that for Hanguang-jun, in the dead of night, to want the Yiling Patriarch to keep him company in tormenting the townsfolk and plaguing the innocent — were word of it ever to get out, it would be the death of them both.

The two of them came to a wall, and Lan Wangji looked left and right, made certain no one was about, and drew Bichen from his waist. A few dazzling flashes of white slashed through the dark, swish, swish, swish, leaving a row of great characters upon the wall.

Wei Wuxian leaned in to look, and found written there nine great characters: ‘Lan Wangji of Gusu was here.’

Wei Wuxian: ‘…’

A date still clenched between his teeth, he stood thunderstruck. Lan Wangji, meanwhile, drew Bichen back, admired his handiwork a while, and presently turned his head to ask, ‘Well?’

Wei Wuxian said, ‘Mm? What? Well? …Good. Very good. I bow to your superior skill!’

And it was the plain truth. Even deep in his cups, Hanguang-jun's hand remained a regular script of impeccable gravity, against which Wei Wuxian felt himself fall short. Lan Wangji nodded and held Bichen out to him.

Wei Wuxian: ‘?’

Lan Wangji held Bichen out to him a second time, and Wei Wuxian took it, saw the broad expanse of blank wall left after the three characters of ‘Lan Wangji,’ and understood.

Lan Wangji was waiting for him to add his own name as well!

Lan Wangji kept his gaze fixed on him, and Wei Wuxian, unable to bear being stared at any longer, said, ‘Fine, fine, fine, I'll write, I'll write.’ Resigning himself to his fate, he wrote after ‘Lan Wangji of Gusu’ the words ‘Wei Wuxian of Yunmeng.’ And now the two great names hung side by side upon the wall.

‘Lan Wangji of Gusu, Wei Wuxian of Yunmeng — were here!’

Lan Wangji seemed well satisfied, and at last took Bichen back, gathered his focus a moment, and raised his hand again. This time it was not writing but drawing: a few flares of the blade swept across, and there on the wall appeared the likeness of two little figures, heads pressed close and tender against each other, as though in the act of kissing. The rigor of the brushwork, the filth of the subject — Wei Wuxian dropped his head and slapped a palm to his own brow.

Filching chickens, dodging dogs, wreaking havoc, scrawling and daubing and defacing every which way… now he was certain —

Earlier, at Lotus Pier, Wei Wuxian had recounted to Lan Wangji no end of amusing things he had done as a child. The Gusu Lan Clan kept its discipline strict, and as a boy Lan Wangji could surely never have run wild like this; he must have heard Wei Wuxian tell of it and kept it in mind, and now, drunk, was repeating each episode one by one. It could be nothing else — why, even the subject of the doodle was much the same as what Wei Wuxian had described to him!

Once he had pieced together what was actually going on, he hardly knew whether to laugh or cry. ‘But these are all the sort of things I only got up to when I was twelve or thirteen!’

Watching Lan Wangji warm more and more to his drawing, its subject growing ever stranger and more outlandish, Wei Wuxian winced for Bichen on the one hand and ached over the wall on the other. ‘In a moment I'll have to wipe out both our names up there — can't have anyone knowing who did this. No, no, no, faster just to pull the whole wall down…’

‘Woof woof woof woof woof — awoooo!’

All at once a savage burst of barking erupted, and Wei Wuxian, as though a firecracker had gone off at his ear, let out a shriek on the spot and, out of his wits, leapt clean onto Lan Wangji. ‘Lan Zhan, save me!!!’

This household, of all things, kept a dog!

In all honesty, in the hush of night Wei Wuxian's ghastly howling was a far more hair-raising thing than any dog's. He was scared out of his soul; Lan Wangji's expression never changed. One hand braced Wei Wuxian and patted him soothingly, while the other held his sword, and he sprang up onto the top of the wall to look down from on high upon the fierce watchdog, his face cold, as if squaring off against it. Wei Wuxian had twisted all four limbs about him like a twist of fried dough, his face buried deep against the side of his neck, his whole body rigid, and he roared, ‘Stop squaring off with it! Go, just go, hurry! Lan Zhan, hurry, get me out of here!!! Aaaaaaaah!!!’

While he was all but screaming himself mad, the dog, the instant Lan Wangji showed himself, tucked its tail, let its tongue loll, dropped its head low to the ground, and lay there whimpering, not daring to bark again. His victory complete, Lan Wangji gave Wei Wuxian two more pats and, holding him close, leapt down from the wall.

Only when they had walked a good way without another sound from the dog could Wei Wuxian at last peel himself off Lan Wangji. His eyes were glazed, his legs still trembling; Lan Wangji patted his shoulder and gazed at him with intent concern, as though asking whether he was all right. His fright not yet settled, scarcely able to catch his breath, Wei Wuxian offered offhand praise, ‘Hanguang-jun, you really are valiant beyond compare!’

At the words, Lan Wangji seemed to smile a little.

That faint ripple was gone in an instant, and Wei Wuxian, thinking his eyes had played him false, stood stunned.

After a moment he let out a long breath, rubbed his chin, lifted his head and said with a smile, ‘Lan Zhan, now you regret not coming to Lotus Pier with me back then, don't you… wait, where are you off to now! Don't go wandering off!’

It cost him no small effort to haul Lan Wangji back to the inn. Seeing that the two of them had, in the dead of night, brought home a pair of mottled hens and now thrust them upon her, the innkeeper's mistress wore an expression beyond all words. Wei Wuxian dragged Lan Wangji up the stairs, shut the door, and turned around. Out in the street the night had been too dim to make things out clearly, but here in the room, by lamplight, he saw that Lan Wangji's robes, his face, his hair were all stuck over with chicken feathers, shredded leaves, and powdery white plaster from the wall — a sorry state for so dignified a figure. Brushing him off, Wei Wuxian laughed, ‘So filthy!’

Lan Wangji said, ‘Wash my face for me.’

Wei Wuxian could not help giving his forehead ribbon another tug. ‘So now you've learned to order me about!’

The first time he had been drunk, when Wei Wuxian washed his face Lan Wangji had shown himself remarkably pleased — and sure enough, this time he had asked for it himself. The man had got himself into such a state that a mere face-washing would never do, so Wei Wuxian said, ‘Why don't I just give you a proper bath, how's that?’

At the words, Lan Wangji's eyes widened a fraction. Watching his expression closely, Wei Wuxian said, ‘Yes or no?’

Lan Wangji nodded slowly. ‘All right.’

The inn's hands were all women, and naturally Wei Wuxian would not trouble them with the heavy labor. He told Lan Wangji to sit tight in the room, went down himself to heat the water, and carried it up bucket by bucket. Once the bathtub was filled and he had tested the warmth of the water, he turned to tell Lan Wangji to undress — and turning back, found that Lan Wangji had already, of his own accord, stripped himself bare.

True, the two of them had stood naked before each other in the Cold Spring at the Cloud Recesses in their youth — but back then they had both been boys with no idle thoughts in their hearts. And when he had once chanced upon Lan Wangji bathing, his mind had held nothing untoward either; besides, on both those occasions the greater part of Lan Wangji's body had been sunk beneath the water. So now, to come upon a Hanguang-jun laid wholly open all at once… it must be said, Wei Wuxian took an enormous blow. For a moment he honestly did not know whether it was better to follow his heart and look his fill without restraint, or to drape something over Lan Wangji and play the gentleman, and his scalp prickled as he found himself retreating step after step. But while he retreated, Lan Wangji kept advancing. Wei Wuxian had backed himself clear into the corner, with nowhere left to flee, and could only steel himself and watch Lan Wangji draw nearer and nearer, his face expressionless. That distinct throat, that fair skin, those clean and graceful lines of muscle came swaying right up before his eyes, and the swaying of it left him not daring to look straight on; his gaze flinched slightly aside, his throat swallowed of its own accord, and he found his mouth gone dry.

Wei Wuxian was very nearly in despair. He gritted his teeth and feigned indifference. ‘I'll just pour your bathwater for you — there, the rest you can manage yourself.’ And with that he made to slip away, but Lan Wangji's hand shot out and tore the sash of his robe clean through.

His face was sober and proper as ever, yet his movement was thoroughly rough. Wei Wuxian had not reckoned on so sudden a move and gave a start, clutching at his own collar in haste. ‘Stop, stop! I'm not bathing! I'm not bathing! You do it.’

Lan Wangji knit his brows, and Wei Wuxian said, ‘You bathe first. I like — er — a big tub. This one's a bit of a squeeze for two.’

Lan Wangji cast an indifferent glance at the tub, confirmed that it was indeed not large enough, and only then grudgingly gave it up, groping his way slowly into the tub and sinking little by little until he lay steeping in the hot water. Wei Wuxian breathed a sigh of relief. ‘There, you soak at your own pace, I'll step out first.’ With that he was about to flee in disarray and cool his head in the night air, when a great splash sounded behind him; he looked back and said, ‘Why have you climbed out again!’

Lan Wangji said with a cold face, ‘Not bathing anymore.’

Wei Wuxian said, ‘Why not? Think how filthy you'll be if you don't.’

Lan Wangji was sullen and out of sorts and would not say why; he walked over to the screen to put on the clothes he had taken off. Wei Wuxian hurried back, having more or less guessed the reason, and said, ‘Is it that you want me to wash you?’

Lan Wangji lowered his eyelids, neither owning to it nor denying it.

Seeing him like this, something in Wei Wuxian's heart softened past all reason, and he found it funny besides — the man had been just so since childhood, never saying aloud what he wanted yet chasing after it relentlessly in deed. So he dragged Lan Wangji back toward the tub. ‘All right, I'll wash you, come here.’ And he thought, ‘I lose, I lose. Fine, I'll just wipe him down a few times and do nothing else.’

Only then did Lan Wangji let himself be hauled back and settled once more into the water. Wei Wuxian, too, rolled up his sleeves and stepped to the side of the wooden tub.

Lan Wangji's skin was fair, his long hair black as ink, and amid the curling, rising steam he seemed for an instant some immortal of jade-terrace and faerie pool, beautiful and cold as ice and snow. Wei Wuxian watched and thought it a pity, feeling he ought to find some petals or the like to float upon the water and make the scene finer still. He scooped up the wooden ladle from the tub and carefully let the warm water stream evenly down over Lan Wangji's head. Because Lan Wangji had been staring at him without a single blink, Wei Wuxian, afraid the water would run into his eyes and trouble him, said, ‘Close your eyes.’