"WHAT? You can't be serious! Never! I will NOT do this!"
Wei Wuxian's shriek could probably be heard from the gates of Cloud Recesses. He was waving a formal, gilt-edged scroll in the air as if it were a poisoned snake. The offending document? A marriage proposal. The proposer? Lan Wangji. The reason? Utter, celestial nonsense.
"This can't be happening! I'm not some… some spiritual product to be sold!" He whirled on the two serene men in his room—Lan Xichen with his diplomatic smile, and Lan Qiren with his long-suffering sigh. "Which freakish, bored-to-tears 'specialist' decided that my qi and Lan Zhan's qi could 'fix the balance of the cultivation world'? Did he hit his head on a mountain?!"
Lan Qiren let out a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of a thousand rule lectures. "Wei Wuxian," he began, in that tone that suggested he was speaking to a particularly noisy, disobedient squirrel. "This is not a sale. It is a sacred union for the stability of all we hold dear."
"Stability? By marrying me off to the Second Jade?" Wei Ying scoffed, flopping onto the floor in a dramatic heap. "Brother Xichen, you can't be serious!"
Lan Xichen, the picture of compassionate reason, stepped forward. "The findings are… compelling. The analysis shows a perfect, complementary resonance between your energetic signatures. It is a rare harmony that could, indeed, mend certain foundational fractures." He said it as if discussing the weather, not Wei Wuxian's impending doom.
"But why me?" Wei Wuxian wailed, popping back up to his knees. He pointed accusingly at the scroll. "I'm a guy! He's a guy! Since when does the venerable Gusu Lan advocate for… for this?" He gestured wildly between two imaginary people.
Lan Qiren's eyebrow twitched. "The cultivation world is not bound by the mundane," he stated, his voice like grinding stones. "It is bound by necessity. And spiritual logic."
Lan Xichen placed a gentle, placating hand on Wei Wuxian's shoulder. "It is not about identity, Wei-kumsun. It is about compatibility. A once-in-an-era alignment."
Wei Wuxian's eyes darted between them, a sly, desperate hope dawning. He looked at Xichen from the corner of his eye. "Okay… okay, fine. Hypothetically," he whispered, as if sharing a great secret. "Do I have to do all the… marriage rituals with him? The whole… ceremony? Or is it just, you know, a signed paper and we're done?" He leaned in, eyes wide. "Please say it's the second one. I'm begging you."
Lan Qiren pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture Wei Wuxian had personally perfected over years of being his student. "Marriage is a sacred union," he intoned, weary. "Not a bureaucratic formality."
Lan Xichen's smile turned sympathetic, a silent 'I'm sorry' in his eyes. "While the… full union is traditional," he said delicately, watching the color drain from Wei Wuxian's face, "it is not strictly mandatory for the bond to be recognized by heaven. A binding ceremony and shared cultivation practices would suffice to channel the required energy."
He did not mention that he had already had a very quiet, very tense conversation with his brother about expectations. Some things were better left unsaid.
Wei Wuxian clutched the front of his robes as if struck. "So—no—bed business?" he gasped.
Lan Qiren's teacup rattled. "Must you be so crude?"
Xichen cleared his throat. "Not unless it is a mutual… desire."
"OH, THANK ALL THE HEAVENS AND THE EARTH!" Wei Wuxian collapsed backwards onto the floor with a thud, limbs splayed in utter relief.
(Somewhere in the Jingshi, a solitary white jade teacup met a sudden, silent, and catastrophic end against a wall.)
A new thought struck Wei Wuxian. He sat bolt upright. "Then! Once this 'qi balance' business is stabilized… the marriage is over, right? We go our separate ways? Deal?" He held a hand over his heart, his expression one of a man negotiating his release from prison.
He saw Lan Qiren's mouth open to protest and threw himself forward, gripping the elder's robes. "Say yes! Or you'll find my cold, dead body at the foot of the Yiling Mountain! I swear it!"
Xichen's lips pressed together, fighting a laugh. Lan Qiren looked between the dramatic youth and the scroll of destiny, his face a battlefield of duty, exasperation, and the faint, desperate hope of finally solving this problem.
Finally, he let out a long, defeated breath. "Deal," Lan Qiren grunted.
"On one condition," Xichen added smoothly, his eyes glinting.
Wei Wuxian froze mid-celebration. "What… what now?" he whispered, dread pooling in his stomach.
Xichen folded his hands serenely. "Condition one: You do not, under any circumstances, actually get yourself killed near Yiling Mountain."
Lan Qiren massaged his temples. "And condition two," he added, voice stern, "you will comport yourself as a proper, respectable spouse in public until the spiritual balance is fully restored. No scandals. No… incidents."
Wei Wuxian groaned, dragging his hands down his face. "Lan Zhan's going to murder me long before the mountain gets a chance!"
(In the Jingshi, the stand that had held the first teacup also met a tragic, splintering demise.)
Wei Wuxian huffed, letting his head drop. "Fine, fine! I'll… try not to die. And I'll be the picture of marital bliss. Or whatever."
Lan Xichen patted his shoulder, his smile a little too knowing. "Excellent."
Lan Qiren gave a sharp, final nod, as if closing a particularly vexing ledger.
Then, a presence.
A chill seeped into the room, a silence so profound it had weight.
From the shadowed doorway, a figure emerged.
White robes, pristine. A face of jade, impassive.
But the air around him crackled.
"Mn."
Wei Wuxian spun around so fast he nearly tripped. "LAN ZHAN?!"
There he stood. Lan Wangji. His golden eyes were fixed on Wei Wuxian with an intensity that could melt rock. His grip on Bichen's hilt was so tight the knuckles shone white.
Xichen coughed delicately into his sleeve. "Ah, Wangji. Were you… listening?"
Silence. A heavy, loaded, terrifying silence.
Wei Wuxian's throat clicked as he swallowed. He offered a wobbly, manic grin. "S-So! About that 'not dying' thing! Very committed to it! Full of life, me!"
Lan Wangji took one slow, deliberate step forward.
Wei Wuxian scrambled one rapid step back.
Lan Qiren sighed, the sound of a man watching his carefully ordered world burn. "This union will be the death of me."
"D-don't you look at me like that!" Wei Wuxian yelped, pointing a shaky finger at Lan Wangji. "Like… like one of those men from the spring books I once showed you!" He edged towards the door, where a bundle containing a set of pristine white and red wedding robes and a ceremonial hairpiece sat, delivered by the Lans. "I've accepted this… this pain in the backside, haven't I?!"
With a final, desperate squeak, he snatched up the bundle and fled down the corridor in a whirl of black and red robes.
Lan Qiren stared after him, muttering about "unruly, impertinent, chaotic children destined to shatter my peace."
Xichen shook his head, the laughter finally breaking through as a soft chuckle. "He is certainly… spirited."
"'Spirited'," Lan Qiren echoed, his tone implying the word was a synonym for 'catastrophe waiting to happen'.
Lan Wangji said nothing. He remained in the doorway, a statue of perfect, furious composure. Only the faint, telltale tension along his jawline betrayed the tempest within.
Xichen observed his brother, noted the shattered stillness, and wisely chose not to comment.
After a long moment, Lan Qiren sighed again, a sound of profound, existential weariness. He looked from his perfectly furious nephew to the empty hallway where chaos had just vanished.
"…We," he announced to the silent room, "are utterly doomed."