Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Puqi was a truly delightful town. It was at the very edge of Yunmeng, far enough away so that residents were unlikely to be bothered by anyone important, such as the Jiangs or even Lans. Once upon a time, its name was Yiling. But only the older residents called it that, now. Apparently.

Yes, that’s right. Lan Wangji was trying to avoid his family. Not for malicious reasons, just…he needed a break. With Xie Lian still mourning his parents and Lan Wangji’s new, adopted child, it was easiest to get away. A new town, a new house, a new life.

That’s all he needed.

Unfortunately, Uncle had frozen Lan Wangji’s account as punishment for his “rebellious escapade.” So he and his best friend, Xie Lian, were a bit short on money at the moment. Which meant their only house option was the one at the far end of the village; run-down, abandoned, and rumored to be haunted. Not exactly the mansion Lan Wangji had grown up in, but it was better than nothing.

The house in question was exactly what Lan Wangji would imagine a haunted house to look like. The shutters were hanging on a single hinge, the gutters looked to be stuffed with rotting leaves and years-old rainwater, every window was cracked in a way that made them look to be covered in giant spiderwebs, and the gray paint was half peeled off to reveal the neglected walls beneath.

“This looks lovely!” Xie Lian observed cheerfully, swinging A-Yuan’s hand that was linked with his. “I think we could make a very nice life for ourselves here. Don’t you?” He looked at Lan Wangji, who realized that he was being one hundred percent genuine in his eagerness about the dilapidated house.

At least someone could be optimistic for A-Yuan, whom Lan Wangji could not lie to. 

“We could certainly make it work,” Lan Wangji acknowledged. Mentally, he began weighing the pros and cons of returning to Gusu with his tail between his legs. Living here was certainly not the life he wanted to provide for A-Yuan. But reasoning and pleading with his uncle to unfreeze his account hasn’t worked. Uncle had told him that he could have his money back when he returned to his home.

Which Lan Wangji couldn’t do, because his family had refused to accept A-Yuan as one of their own. And he would not live in a place that viewed his son as “other.”

“Let’s see what it looks like inside!” Xie Lian said to A-Yuan, who gave a little cheer and began running inside, dragging poor Xie Lian behind him.

Lan Wangji bit back a sigh. Perhaps Xichen would be able to do something. He followed his son and friend inside, batting away a cobweb at the very top of the doorway that the others were too short to reach. 

The interior of the house wasn’t much of an improvement. The front door opened into a hallway that led into a kitchen straight ahead, with a set of stairs to the left of the door. There were two closed rooms past the stairs as well, but Lan Wangji headed into the kitchen first. 

The kitchen was large and furnished, which was appreciated, but that was where the positives ended. The appliances seemed as though they were last used a century ago, and the only light fixtures were a few flickering light bulbs hanging throughout the ceiling. 

Then there was the furniture, if it could even be called that. A dinner table with four chairs stood proudly to the right of the actual kitchen, but they were decorated with a layer of dust an inch thick and it looked like there were holes in the wood. 

“I can make this work,” Xie Lian said approvingly as he surveyed the first room. “With a little bit of this and that, we could have a kitchen good enough to be featured on HGTV!”

A-Yuan wrinkled his nose and sneezed violently. “It’s dusty,” he complained. “And gross.”

“It’s not gross, it just needs a bit of cleaning,” Xie Lian soothed him. “Here, let’s open a window.” He started moving towards the window over the sink. The window in question began trembling, its shades opening and closing before collapsing into the sink with a crash. It kept shaking, getting more and more violent until the glass completely shattered, falling down to the ground like rain.

“Oh my,” Xie Lian said. “That was weird. Let me go find a broom…there must be one somewhere.”

“We can clean it later,” Lan Wangji said, already exhausted from the mental checklists he’d been making of all they had to do to get the house functional. “Let’s complete the tour before we try to mess with anything.” He noticed A-Yuan trying to get closer to the sink and added, “A-Yuan, don’t go over there. You could hurt yourself on the glass.” The boy froze and backpedaled into Xie Lian, nodding vigorously. 

“Should we explore upstairs first, or take a look downstairs first?” Lan Wangji asked A-Yuan.

He puffed out his cheeks, clearly trying to make a thoughtful expression. “Ummmm…upstairs! Where my room is!”

“He has his priorities straight,” Xie Lian noted with a laugh. “Alright, upstairs we go!”

They backtracked to the foyer and headed up the staircase. Each step creaked and bent under Lan Wangji’s weight, causing him to worry over its structural integrity. But the three of them arrived upstairs in one piece, so he forced himself to relax.

It’s fine. This was a good idea. Xie Lian needed to get away, and it’s better for A-Yuan if he is not constantly belittled by your family. The house will get fixed. 

The stairs led up into a hallway with several doors attached. A-Yuan pushed open the closest one, surging into what looked like the master bedroom. A large, surprisingly intact bed took up about a third of the room, leaving the rest completely bare save for two dressers and nightstands. It continued into a walk-in closet and master bathroom, both looking acceptable enough if the dust was ignored.

A-Yuan sneezed again, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. Lan Wangji was quick to produce a tissue and bottle of hand sanitizer from his pocket, offering both to his son.

He accepted them without complaint and wiped his nose with the tissue before squeezing out an ungodly amount of hand sanitizer, handing both back to Lan Wangji.

“This will be your bedroom, Wangji,” Xie Lian said to him. “We can probably get you some furniture to liven the room up a little, but for the time being this should be passable.”

“Where will your room be?” Lan Wangji asked. He felt terribly guilty about the whole arrangement; everyone knew the master bedroom was the biggest bedroom. It would be unfair if he got it and Xie Lian got a smaller one.

“I guess we’ll find out!” Xie Lian paused and narrowed his eyes accusingly at Lan Wangji. “And I know you’re feeling guilty about the whole room situation, but this one is yours. I will not be sleeping here even if you refuse it. So stop coming up with ways to get me to take this one instead of you.” And then, and then, he used the most powerful card in the deck by turning to A-Yuan. “Don’t you want your father to have this room?”

A-Yuan, who had been examining a spider in the corner, turned around and toothily grinned. “Yeah!” he agreed happily. 

“So it’s settled,” Xie Lian said firmly to Lan Wangji before striding out of the room. “A-Yuan, let’s find your bedroom!”

“My bedroom!” he cheered, racing after Xie Lian. 

Lan Wangji ran a final scan over the room. It needed a good cleaning, but otherwise there was nothing inherently wrong with it. Curtains would need to be put up for privacy reasons, and the windows had to be replaced at some point, but those were trivial compared to other things the house required.

He trailed out of his bedroom and into the next room, which looked to be some sort of study.

“I’m thinking that this can double between an office and a room for the animals,” Xie Lian said when he walked in. The animals being Xie Lian’s snake, Ruoye, and Lan Wangji’s rabbits, Buttercup and Cottontail.

“We should get a third bunny,” A-Yuan said stubbornly. He was continuing a negotiation that had been going on for weeks now. Lan Wangji refused to get a third rabbit, mostly due to money problems. They simply couldn’t afford another animal in the house, not with the expenses needed to make this one livable.

“Maybe once we’re settled in,” Lan Wangji told him. It wasn’t technically a lie; they could consider getting one once the house was renovated. For now, it was off the table. 

A-Yuan stuck out his lip but didn’t protest further. Instead, he began skipping out of the study. Lan Wangji quickly surveyed the room — no furniture, lots of worn-down windows, loose floorboards — before starting to go after his son. 

But before he could, the door slammed shut, sending dust flying into Lan Wangji and Xie Lian’s faces. They both began coughing, eyes watering. 

“What was that?” Xie Lian sputtered. “The…wind, or something? A-Yuan playing around?”

There wasn’t enough wind to produce that sort of effect, and A-Yuan wouldn’t play around like that, and they both knew it. Lan Wangji didn’t want to put that into words, though, so he simply made a vague sound of affirmation and pulled open the door to follow A-Yuan.

He had made it into another bedroom, and was eagerly walking laps around it. “My room!” he announced when the two adults entered. “This is my room!”

“Your room, huh?” Xie Lian said, placing his hands on his hips. “I’m sure that can be arranged.”

The room was a perfect size for a child. It was square-shaped, with a closet to the left of the bed and a set of drawers in front of it. Two windows to the right sent light bouncing into the room.

“Your Lian-gege is going to choose his bedroom first,” Lan Wangji told A-Yuan. “You can have whichever one he doesn’t pick.”

A-Yuan’s eyes welled with tears and his lips started to quiver. Once Lan Wangji didn’t retract his words, he let out a howl of despair and began sobbing. “I…want…this…room!” he wailed. “My room! A-Yuan’s room!”

“Of course you can have this room,” Xie Lian assured him. Lan Wangji sent the other man a look, which was promptly ignored. “See, Lian-gege is going to take the other room. How does that sound?”

As if a flip was switched, the tears immediately stopped. “A-YUAN’S ROOM!” he shouted, throwing his hands in the air with joy. “My room!”

“You can’t just give him whatever he wants,” Lan Wangji admonished. 

“Watch me,” Xie Lian said cheerfully. “I’m gonna go check out my room. Come with, and tell me all about how none of it is up to code?”

Lan Wangji didn’t bother rewarding him with a response, but he did dutifully follow his friend into the remaining bedroom.

It seemed that Xie Lian had made the correct choice, with or without A-Yuan’s blatant manipulation. The third bedroom was larger, including an en-suite bathroom. It was several steps down from the master suite, but a definite improvement from A-Yuan’s room.

And, if only because Xie Lian had told him to do it, Lan Wangji pettily did not scrutinize every flaw of the bedroom. That was not his problem.

A-Yuan had followed them curiously, only to discover that his Lian-gege’s bedroom was much better than his own. And so, he decided to do whatever it took to change rooms. 

“I like this room better,” he declared. “This is my bedroom now.”

“No,” Lan Wangji corrected him. “You chose yours. This is Lian-gege’s bedroom.”

The four-year-old scrunched up his face, preparing to unleash the tears once more. “No!” he shouted. “I want this one!”

“This is mine, kiddo,” Xie Lian informed him sympathetically. “But do you want to map out how you want to decorate your room in the future?”

At once, A-Yuan untensed and beamed once more. He grabbed Xie Lian’s hand and pulled him into his bedroom, which he was now perfectly happy about. “There are gonna be dinosaurs! From space! And cars that go vroom! And bunnies! Lots of bunnies!”

With the two of them disappearing into A-Yuan’s room once more, Lan Wangji decided to check out his son’s bathroom, which was adjacent to his bedroom. It was simple enough; bathtub, sink, toilet. More dust and some mold decorating the ceiling, but nothing urgent. 

He turned around to head back out, investigate downstairs, but was stopped in his tracks by the mirror. Or, more specifically, what was on the mirror. Because even though the shower hadn’t been on, the mirror was fogged up. And traced throughout the fog was a message reading:

LEAVE NOW WHILE YOU STILL CAN

The words were so terribly written that they were barely legible. But luckily, Lan Wangji had experience with bad handwriting, so he could read it after some squinting.

Once he read it once, twice, three times, he felt his eyes go wide. No one had been in here before him, so how had this gotten here? He thought back to the window shattering, the door slamming, and now this. Was it possible that the house truly was haunted? He wasn’t one to believe in the supernatural, but there was no explanation for this. 

At the sound of A-Yuan’s chatter emerging from his bedroom, Lan Wangji quickly pulled down his sleeve and used it to wipe at the mirror. The fog dissipated, and he relaxed his arm. 

A second later, however, the mist and message returned. 

Lan Wangji had never been so grateful that his son couldn’t yet read. They’d been working on it, but A-Yuan wasn’t yet there. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for Xie Lian.

“What is that?” he asked immediately when he stepped foot into the bathroom. “Wangji?”

“It won’t go away,” he said, frustrated, trying once again to rub away the message. “I am unsure of its origins.”

“Let me try,” Xie Lian suggested, removing A-Yuan from his leg and approaching the mirror. He wiped it and this time when the message vanished, it didn’t return. With a triumphant smile, he turned to Lan Wangji. “See?” he said. “You just need a magic touch!”

“Of course,” Lan Wangji deadpanned. He bent down to look at A-Yuan, picking the boy up and heading downstairs. There were still three more rooms to investigate, after all.

They didn’t turn out to be much. The one closest to the stairs was some sort of coat closet/laundry room hybrid, which was certainly an interesting design choice. The other room turned out to be a half bathroom. Both were blanketed by an inch of dust and neither had working lights. 

Then there was the living room. It was fairly normal, all things considered. The two couches seemed stable enough and the rug only had one suspicious stain on it. So Lan Wangji considered that a win. And, after a wary test from Xie Lian, the miscellaneous-shaped light bulbs worked.

All in all, Lan Wangji deemed the room passable enough. For the time being, anyway.
After the tour of the house, he and Xie Lian began unpacking. As a favor to Lan Wangji (read: Lan Xichen), Nie Mingjue had driven up earlier to deposit all their things. He had enough tact to not comment on the state of the house, thankfully. Nie Mingjue had, however, Venmoed him a hundred bucks under the claim that it was repayment for that one time Lan Wangji covered the bill for  a twenty dollar meal. 

It was not a coincidence that Xichen later Venmoed him twice as much. Lan Wangji responded by Venmoing both of them back — the exact same amount, plus one dollar. Never let it be said that he was not petty.

After cleaning the bare minimum of A-Yuan’s room and putting him to sleep, Lan Wangji and Xie Lian retired to the living room. “We will need to get to work as soon as possible to make the house into a functional environment for A-Yuan’s needs,” Lan Wangji said to him as they descended the stairs. “I have already begun to make a list of everything that needs to get done, ordered from most to least urgent.”

“Of course you have,” Xie Lian huffed, shaking his head with a small smile. “Share it with me and I’ll start on it tomorrow.”

Lan Wangji grimaced as he realized the list was only in his head and he would actually have to write it out. He dug through his endless pockets to find a notepad and pen and decided he’d get to work on it once he sat down with a strong cup of tea.

After a quick look through the food they’d unpacked, though, he realized that they were out of tea. Xie Lian offered to brew something off the top of his head, but Lan Wangji politely declined, more than familiar with the former’s cooking habits. He sighed and headed into the living room, giving up on their inventory. Shopping was now at the very top of the list.

When he and Xie Lian entered the room, however, they found it already occupied. Lounging on the two couches were two (handsome) men, each taking up an entire couch.

The one closest to Lan Wangji had his hair up in a messy ponytail, his long (attractive) limbs lazily arranged across the cushions. On the other side of the room was the other man, an eyepatch over his right eye and a small braid framing one side of his face. 

They noticed Lan Wangji and Xie Lian enter, and smirked at each other. “How long do you think these ones will last?” Eyepatch asked. “I give it a week at most.”

“Nah, did you see the hot one’s reaction to your message? Barely even flinched.” Ponytail, who was becoming more and more attractive as Lan Wangji looked, laughed. (His laugh was beautiful, too) “A month at the very least.”

Eyepatch looked offended. “Hot one?” he repeated. “Don’t you mean the one in white?”

“They’re both in white, idiot. But if you mean the one with the fancy headpiece, then yes.”

“I meant the other one, actually. Thanks for confirming that your taste is just as terrible as it’s always been.”

Attractive Ponytail lunged up to shove a finger in Eyepatch’s face. “He is hot, I don’t give a shit what you say.”

Eyepatch snorted. “You don’t give a shit about your taste either, apparently, because the one with the normal hair is clearly more attractive.”

Thankfully, this was enough to spur Xie Lian into action. Lan Wangji certainly wouldn’t be the one to speak first, what with him being rooted to the spot and unable to tear his eyes from Attractive Ponytail.

Xie Lian cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the two strangers. “Um, sorry,” he said. “But. Uh.” He abruptly stopped talking, desperately turning to Lan Wangji for help.

Lan Wangji suppressed a sigh and said, “Are you aware that you’re trespassing? We bought the house. You are not allowed to be here. Please leave.” He did not ask how they got in, not wanting to know.

Eyepatch and Attractive Ponytail exchanged glances before looking back at Xie Lian. 

“You can see us?” Eyepatch asked suspiciously, narrowing his uncovered eye. Quite rudely, in Lan Wangji’s opinion.

Attractive Ponytail smacked him, rolling his own eyes. “No, idiot, they talked to us. Clearly they can’t see us.” He jumped out of the way just in time for Eyepatch to lunge for him.

Xie Lian managed an awkward smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “Are we…not supposed to see you?” 

The two strangers stopped trying to attack each other and looked at Xie Lian. “Well,” Attractive Ponytail said slowly. “Considering that we’re not exactly alive at the moment…no, you aren’t supposed to see us.”

Eyepatch kicked at his legs. “Way to soften the blow.”

“Oh, that is so rich of you,” he scoffed in return. “When have you ever pulled your punches, Hua Cheng? Besides, how am I exactly supposed to soften around the blow? ‘No, you’re not supposed to see us, but that’s because we are definitely, one hundred percent, breathing and living people.’”

“Well obviously not like that,” Eyepatch, who was apparently named Hua Cheng, snapped. “It’s not my fault you’re so stupid you don’t even know how to talk to anyone other than me.”

“In case it slipped your mind, asshole, I’ve been a bit short of people who I can talk to.”

Lan Wangji cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the others again. “Please explain,” he said in his way that was technically-polite-but-he-will-gut-you-with-a-knife-if-you-don’t-do-what-he- asked.

Attractive Ponytail grimaced slightly, moving away from Hua Cheng. “Yeah, no, of course. You’re probably really confused, huh?” He laughed with an awkwardness that could rival Xie Lian’s. “Yeah, so I’m dead. So is Hua Cheng.” This was said with a thumb jerk towards Eyepatch, who scowled. “We grew up together, worked together, and died together. And now we’re forced to ghost together too, so that’s delightful.”

Lan Wangji meant to ask about what he meant by that, but what came out of his mouth instead was: “Did you just use ‘ghost’ as a verb?”

“Yep!” Attractive Ponytail shot him a thumbs up. Hua Cheng rolled his eyes so hard that his eyes nearly got stuck in the back of his head. 

“So…you’re ghosts?” Xie Lian asked tentatively. “Do you have unfinished business tying you to the human world, or something?” He’d been watching too many paranormal TV shows. Lan Wangji made a mental note to buy him some nonfiction books for Christmas (along with some cookbooks in the futile hope that his cooking skills would improve).

“Uh, not rea–” Attractive Ponytail started, but Hua Cheng cut him off. 

“Exactly, gege,” he said with an encouraging nod.

Xie Lian flushed while Attractive Ponytail shot his fellow ghost an appalled look and hissed, “Gege?”

“Once we carry out our unfinished business, we’ll move on,” Hua Cheng continued. “Unfortunately, we’re tethered to the house and are unable to leave. And until you, no one has been able to see us.”

“So without any way to leave the house and complete our unfinished business, we’ve been stuck with haunting the house,” Attractive Ponytail finished, looking resigned. “That’s what we were trying to do earlier, actually, but neither of you were all that fazed.”

“The mirror too?” Xie Lian asked.

“That was Hua Cheng. He was supposed to keep rewriting it but someone got distracted by mmfph—!” Attractive Ponytail was cut off by Hua Cheng slapping a hand over his mouth.

“Your handwriting is abysmal,” Lan Wangji noted. “My son can write better than you.”

“Oh, burn!” Attractive Ponytail crowed, managing to remove the hand. “Isn’t he, like, four?”

Lan Wangji frowned, but allowed Xie Lian to speak. 

“So, if we help you finish your unfinished business, you can move on?” he said slowly. “Well, since Wangji and I are the first people to see you, why don’t we help you?” He ignored Lan Wangji’s frantic head shakes, like a terrible friend. 

“Oh, I don’t think it’s something you can help with,” Attractive Ponytail started, but Hua Cheng interrupted him with a doe-like look directed at Xie Lian as he said, “I think that’s a lovely idea, gege.”

“I will help as well,” Lan Wangji volunteered as he realized that the sooner these ghosts were out of his house, the sooner his life could return to normal. And the sooner this unfairly beautiful ghost could go away.

Attractive Ponytail was stared down by three sets of eyes and he was forced to relent. “Fine! Fine. If we’re going to be working together, then I should probably introduce myself, hm?” His eyes danced with a childlike delight that Lan Wangji had only seen once before. “My name is Wei Ying. Lovely to meet you.” 

Hua Cheng pushed him to the side and stepped closer to Xie Lian, smiling brightly at him. “And I’m Hua Cheng, but you can call me San Lang,” he said. Then he frowned and turned to Lan Wangji. “Not you, though. Only gege.”

Xie Lian giggled — actually giggled — and introduced himself and Lan Wangji. “I’m Xie Lian, and this is Lan Zhan or Lan Wangji. His family is traditional, so they gave him a courtesy name as well as a personal name.”

Wei Ying lit up. “Really? Mine too! My courtesy name is Wuxian. You don’t have to use it, though. No one does.”

“Everyone does,” Hua Cheng grumbled. He had somehow drifted even closer to Xie Lian. 

“And who is everyone? You? You don’t count, like, at all,” Wei Ying pointed out. 

“Even when we were alive, everyone called you Wei Wuxian.” Hua Cheng slid his eyes over to Lan Wangji. “But to him, he’s Wei Ying. Is there a reason, or…?”

“Everyone calls you Hua Cheng, but to him you’re San Lang,” Wei Ying retorted, gesturing to Xie Lian. “Is there a reason, or…?”

“Okay!” Xie Lian said, clapping his hands together and stopping both of them. “It’s getting late, so maybe we can pick this discussion up tomorrow? Will A-Yuan be able to see you?”

“No clue,” Hua Cheng said with a shrug. “We still don’t know why you can see us, so there’s no way to tell if he can or not.”

Lan Wangji glanced at his watch and realized that it was, in fact, nearing nine o’clock. That explained why his eyes felt so heavy. Not to mention that he would have to do some hasty cleaning before he went to bed. He’d spent the majority of the day getting A-Yuan’s room up to par, so there hadn’t been any time to work on his. They would have to break up this discussion, no matter how strange it was.

“We will speak in the morning,” he said stiffly, nodding once towards Hua Cheng and Wei Ying and softening his gaze towards Xie Lian. “I will go out to buy some food when I wake up. If I am not back, look after A-Yuan.”

Xie Lian grinned at him. “My favorite activity! Sounds good, Wangji. Good night!”

“Good night.” Let it be known, the good night was directed to Xie Lian and Xie Lian only. Definitely not gorgeous men with messy ponytails and dazzling smiles. Why would anyone ever think that?

But even as Lan Wangji laid in bed, his own sheets and mattress on the bed and the room cleaned ever so slightly, his thoughts kept straying to Wei Ying. And they stayed there. 

He pointedly pulled the sheets up to his chin. No thoughts of strange ghosts with stranger pasts, no matter how pretty they were.

Chapter Text

“What do you think?” Wei Wuxian asked once both humans had retired upstairs. “Any theories as to why they can see us?”

“None whatsoever,” Hua Cheng replied. He was still staring at the spot where Xie Lian had vanished up the stairs. Like a lovesick moron.

“Wanna talk about agreeing to let them help us complete our unfinished business?”

Hua Cheng scowled. “I didn’t want to make Gege sad,” he said. “Obviously they can’t actually help.”

“But if they really can see us, and it’s not a fluke…” Wei Wuxian began, but Hua Cheng cut him off. 

“Is that really a risk you’re willing to take?” he demanded. “You know what our business entails. It’s dangerous. It could get them killed. One had a fucking kid, Wei Wuxian!”

“Don’t you think I know that? But this could be our only chance.” Wei Wuxian exhaled heavily, leaning back against the wall. “There’s a reason we chose this path. If there’s a chance…”

“No,” Hua Cheng said flatly. “It got us killed, Wuxian. We aren’t taking the risk to get them killed as well. What I said to Xie Lian was a white lie. He can’t help, and neither can the other one. I won’t change my mind.”

“Fine,” Wei Wuxian snapped. “Have fun spending eternity haunting this fucking house.” He turned on his heel and strode away angrily. 

Hua Cheng was right and they both knew it. Unlike most ghosts, they knew exactly what their unfinished business was. The problem was that it wasn’t the normal unfinished business, like falling in love or learning to drive. 

Theirs was dangerous. It had indeed been what killed them, and he and Hua Cheng had known what they were doing. Two regular people wouldn’t be able to help them complete it. 

But then again, were they really so regular? They’d been able to see Wei Wuxian and Hua Cheng, a feat no other human had been able to accomplish. 

No one else could see them. So why could these people? What made them so special?

He didn’t know, and that frustrated him even more. 

The next day, the one named Lan Wangji was up at an ungodly hour. He descended the stairs before the sun had even started to rise, already dressed and perfectly put together. 

Ghosts couldn’t sleep, much to Wei Wuxian’s chagrin. They could do this weird phenomenon where they blipped out and disappeared for a while, but neither he nor Hua Cheng liked to do that. They couldn’t really choose when they returned, and the lack of control wasn’t all that desirable to them. 

So Wei Wuxian was forced to stay awake all day and all night, every day and every night. He hated it with a passion. 

However, there was no excuse for Lan Wangji to be awake. He slept, so why the hell was he up?

“A morning person, I see,” Wei Wuxian greeted when Lan Wangji reached the bottom of the stairs. “Up to catch the sunrise?”

“To get groceries,” he said coolly. “If you will excuse me.” He began walking towards the door, taking some keys out of his pocket.

“Nonono, wait!” Wei Wuxian hurried after him. “Let me come with you!”

“I was under the impression that you were unable to leave the house.” Lan Wangji was outside now, still refusing to look at him. 

Oh yeah, he was. Wei Wuxian looked down and realized with a start that he was currently standing on the gravel, a part of the property he hadn’t been able to access since he died. 

“I’m outside,” he whispered, eyes wide as realization sank in. “Oh my god, I’m outside!”

“Astute observation,” Lan Wangji said dryly, sliding into his car. He was about to drive away, and there wasn’t time to dwell on this accomplishment if Wei Wuxian wanted to join. So he sprinted towards the car and jumped through the passenger door just as the car pulled out of the driveway.

“This is crazy,” he remarked. “I haven’t been anywhere but that goddamn house since I died. Does the town look any different, do you think?”

There was no answer. He was being ignored. How terribly rude. 

“Hey, Lan Wangji.” Nothing. “Lan-gongzi?” Nope. “Laaann Waaangjiiii.” Wei Wuxian slumped in his seat, hurt by the lack of reaction. “Lan-gege?” No luck. “...Lan Zhan?” It was terribly impolite to use his personal name without permission, but Wei Wuxian was bored and determined to get a response.

‘Lan Zhan’ seemed to do the trick, the name causing him to stiffen in his seat ever so slightly. Wei Wuxian grinned. “Finally, proof that you’re alive! If I didn’t know better, I’d think that you were the ghost, not me!” He leaned closer, putting his face right next to Lan Zhan’s. “Here, you can call me by my personal name instead. It’s Wei Ying, in case you forgot. Wei Ying and Lan Zhan, going for a driveee–”

He was cut off by Lan Zhan turning on the radio and cranking up the volume to drown him out. Wei Wuxian pursed his lips in a pout, folding his arms. “Lan Zhan,” he complained as he turned down the music. “Don’t be so mean to me!” 

Wei Wuxian wasn’t graced with a response. Hmph. He’d have to try another angle. “Lan-gege, you’re making me feel so lonely,” he pouted. “My first time out of that house in over two years, and you’re ignoring me! Lan-gegeeee.”

“I have an older brother,” Lan Zhan finally said in response. At first, the remark didn’t seem to make sense, but then it clicked. 

“Aha!” Wei Wuxian cried. “You’re Lan-er- gege!”

“I am not,” Lan Zhan said tightly, “your gege.”

“Are you not? How old are you? Let’s compare birthdays! I wonder what your zodiac sign is.” Wei Wuxian clicked his tongue thoughtfully. “You give me Taurus vibes. Or maybe a Virgo? Come on, Lan Zhan, when were you born?”

“January twenty third.”

“Oooh, an Aquarius! I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting that.” Wei Wuxian leaned back into his seat. “I’m a Scorpio. I’m curious, are Scorpios and Aquarians compatible?” he wondered. “Hey, Lan Zhan, do you have a phone so I can google it real quick? You have to have a phone, right? I mean, it’s the twenty-first century now. I’d be impressed if you didn’t. Actually, I wouldn’t even need a phone if you told me if we’re compatible. Do you know? You seem like the type to be secretly into astrology. Or maybe your friend is. Would he know?”

He was back to being ignored. Wei Wuxian poked Lan Zhan’s cheek, relishing in his attempt to conceal his little flinch. “Come on, what year? If we were born in the same year, you would be my gege! Tell me, Lan Zhan, please?”

Lan Zhan took a deep breath and told him. Wei Wuxian clapped in delight. “It is the same year! You will forever be my Lan-er-gege,” he teased.

There was no reply, as Lan Zhan finally found the grocery store and pulled into a parking spot. He produced several reusable shopping bags — how had he unpacked those already? — and silently exited the car. Wei Wuxian went scrambling after him. 

“Lan Zhan, don’t leave me behind!” he called. “What are we shopping for? I know where to find all the best deals. And if you’re looking for chili flakes, or chili powder, or even hot sauce, then you can find it in aisle six! The store is a bit confusing for newcomers, but I know my way around it like the back of my hand!” Wei Wuxian trailed after Lan Zhan, taking in the familiar sight of the grocery store.

Or, it seemed, the formerly familiar sight. Apparently the store had completely rearranged the layout. The shelves were horizontal instead of vertical and the checkout registers were on the other side of the store now.

How much had changed in two years? How much had Wei Wuxian missed, forced to stay confined to that stupid house? What else was different? What else had he missed out on?

Would he ever be able to make that time up, or was he destined to remain forever stuck like this?

Realizing that Lan Zhan was already far ahead, Wei Wuxian slapped his face a few times and hurried after him. He could have existential crises later. For now, though, he had to annoy certain fuddy-duddies.

“Lan Zhan!” he shouted, finally catching up. “You walk so fast, my god. Did you, like, take walking-fast classes? Because I swear your walking pace is my running pace. That is absolutely pathetic. I used to be in such good shape.” Wei Wuxian tilted his head. “If I were to come back to life, would I still be fit or would I show signs of decomposition? Like a zombie!”

Nothing. Not even an annoyed glance in his direction. Wei Wuxian decided to take that as a challenge. What could he say or do to get Lan Zhan to react to him?

“Say, Lan Zhan, what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” he asked, jumping in front of Lan Zhan. “You seem hella rich and…this town isn’t exactly a place for people like you.” He grinned, leaning closer as Lan Zhan moved to the side to grab a box of cereal off the shelf. “Ooh, wait, don’t tell me! Are you on the run? Are you trying to escape a scandal from back home? Will your brother come running to Puqi in tears to beg you to return with him?”

He hadn’t expected Lan Zhan to answer him, completely joking with his interrogation. After all, Wei Wuxian would know a thing or two about running away. 

“It is true that I am not currently on the best terms with my family,” Lan Zhan said stiffly. “And that I come from money. My uncle has frozen my account, which is why we were forced to buy that house.”

Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but widen his eyes in surprise. “Frozen your account? Why? Were you disowned? I was disowned, back when I was alive,” he added mournfully. “My adopted mother kicked me out when I was seventeen. I can’t even remember what for. She never liked me.” 

“I am sorry,” Lan Zhan said. Wei Wuxian waved him off, unconcerned. “No, I was not disowned.” The yet went unsaid. “My uncle was…displeased with my decision to keep A-Yuan. He wanted me to put him up for adoption.”

Wei Wuxian went still, well aware of the mess known as the adoption and foster system.

“I refused,” Lan Zhan continued, adding a bag of flour to the cart. “And when it became clear that my family would not accept my son, I packed our things and left.”

“That really sucks,” Wei Wuxian said. “My opinion that you didn’t ask for? Screw your uncle. You did the right thing, Lan Zhan. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.”

“I know.” Lan Zhan had been browsing the baking aisle for a solid five minutes now. What the hell was he looking for? “I do not regret my decision. I simply regret not removing my uncle’s rights to my account earlier.”

Wei Wuxian threw his head back and burst out with laughter, ringing bright and true throughout the store. “You are so funny, Lan Zhan,” he cackled. “I love your sense of humor.”

Lan Zhan’s ears went slightly pink and he coughed lightly. “Mn.” 

He apparently found what he was looking for — yeast — and headed towards the checkout area. Wei Wuxian floated up to the cashier, waving his hands in front of her face. “Guess I’m only visible to you,” he said glumly, his shoulders slumping.

Lan Zhan didn’t answer, likely because he would’ve been viewed as crazy, seemingly talking to himself. Instead, he offered a brisk nod to the cashier as he loaded the conveyor belt with groceries. 

“You know, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian said as he eyed the total on the computer. “I worked in the tech department back when I was alive. I might be able to remove your uncle’s access and unfreeze your account for you.”

There was no response, but from the slight tilt to Lan Zhan’s head, Wei Wuxian knew he was listening. “Hua Cheng is better at computers than me — well, that’s not saying much, he’s better at everything than me. He was actually this hella famous artist when he was alive. I’m pretty sure he was, like, a multimillionaire. Which is so unfair because we had basically the same job except I was broke as fuck and he could drive to the office on his pile of cash.”

Lan Zhan paid for the food, his eyebrow twitching at the total, and he took the groceries back to the car. He’d somehow fit several hundred dollars worth of food into three reusable bags. Which was very impressive, considering the size of the bags.

“But seriously, do you have a computer? With the power of Hua Cheng and Wei Wuxian—”

“No need,” Lan Zhan interrupted, slamming the door closed. 

Wei Wuxian blinked. “No need?” he echoed. “What do you mean ‘no need?’ Lan Zhan! You’re one of those Lans, aren’t you? You’ve got to have at least one mil in your coffers, and you’re not even going to try to get it back?”

“No need,” he repeated, starting the car. Wei Wuxian scoffed, stunned. If he had that much money, he would have moved heaven and earth to get it back. Why was Lan Zhan so indifferent about it? 

At least it was light out, now. The sun was peeking out from the horizon, sending rays of pink and orange into the sky. Wei Wuxian normally didn’t care about sunrises, but he couldn’t deny that this one was truly magnificent.

He snuck a glance at the person next to him in the car, focused on the road. Lan Zhan’s hair had fallen out of its braid, cascading down his neck in waves. His ears still had a hint of a flush to them, which sent Wei Wuxian’s heart into palpitations for whatever reason.

It was probably allergies.

When they arrived back at the house, Wei Wuxian offered to help bring in the groceries, but Lan Zhan was back to ignoring him. He huffed in offense, slinking after him into the house and running straight into Hua Cheng.

“What the fuck?” the other ghost hissed. “Where have you been? Did you leave? How the fuck did you leave? What the fuck?” 

“Chill with the language,” Wei Wuxian said with an eye roll. “There’s a child here now, or did you forget?”

“Don’t evade the question, asshole. Did you or did you not leave the goddamn house?”

“Language,” he reprimanded once again. “And yes, I did. No, I don’t know why. And no, I don’t care enough about whatever lecture you’re about to shout at me.”

“Fuck you,” Hua Cheng snapped. “How did you leave?”

“I was just following Lan Zhan—”

“You mean annoying him.”

“—and suddenly I was no longer in the house and on the gravel. I don’t know how or why it happened, it just did.”

“What ever did I do to deserve having to live an afterlife with you?” Hua Cheng bemoaned, dragging a hand down his face like the drama queen he was. 

“Oh, you know. All that illegal shit—”

“Shut up!” he whisper-screamed. “Do you want to reveal all our secrets? Just because you have a crush does not excuse running your mouth.”

Wei Wuxian glared at him. “First of all, the only thing I’ve told him was that we worked with computers and that you were some stupid rich artist when you were alive. Second of all, crush? Like you can talk, gege.”

Hua Cheng punched him in the stomach. “Don’t call him that, stupid.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Wei Wuxian wheezed, bending over. “Oh, Lan Zhan and Xie Lian are going to want to start on our unfinished business thing today. I guarantee it. Are we going to tell them the truth, or…?”

“Absolutely not,” he said immediately. “We’ll make something up. It doesn’t really matter. But they cannot find out the truth.”

“Well, I’m not going to be the one to tell them that we were undercover vigilante hackers.”

“Do you have to say it like that?” Hua Cheng demanded. “We weren’t undercover, and we weren’t vigilantes.”

“Then why did we have to cut so many corners so as to not be found out doing illegal spying?”

“So that we wouldn’t be killed for looking into all that stuff, stupid. And guess what happened anyway, because someone slipped up?”

Wei Wuxian’s spine went stiff as a board. “For the last time, I didn’t slip up,” he snapped. “Someone went through my stuff, and I’m positive it was—”

Xie Lian poked his head into the hallway they’d been arguing in. “Do you guys eat?” he asked. “Lan Zhan made some congee.”

“I think we can, yeah,” Wei Wuxian said, immediately switching his tone from angrily defensive to only-slightly-forced warmth. “You said Lan Zhan made it? He didn’t happen to get any chili flakes at the store, did he?”

“Weren’t you with him?” Hua Cheng muttered.

“Did you really expect me to pay attention to what he was putting in the cart?”

“Good point. You probably talked his ear off. I’ll go apologize to him on your behalf.”

“Hua Cheng.”

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes as the other ghost vanished into the kitchen, stopping just long enough to offer Xie Lian a bright smile. Disgusting. He did follow to see if there were any spices he could add to his congee, not expecting any. 

To his surprise, a bottle of chili flakes were resting on the counter next to the pot. Xie Lian had clearly cleaned up the kitchen, just enough so that food could be made on it without triggering the fire alarm that may or may not still work. It still needed a lot of work, though. 

“Can I have more, Baba?” A-Yuan was asking Lan Zhan at the table, patched up with some duct tape. “Please?”

“Once everyone has had some, then you can have a little more if there is some left over,” Lan Zhan responded. He handed his son a napkin and helped him wipe his face.

“Hey, Hua Cheng,” Wei Wuxian called. The other ghost turned and scowled at him, a nonverbal what the fuck do you want? “Lan Zhan has this bank account that his uncle froze. Could you unfreeze it for him?”

Hua Cheng blinked, evidently not expecting that. “Yeah, if I had access to a computer and a guarantee that I can work the computer.” 

Fair enough. Neither of them had access to electronics since their death. Even though they could touch and move some tangible objects for short periods of time, they had no idea if they could use an actual computer.

“Wangji has a computer,” Xie Lian volunteered, steering A-Yuan away from a sharp edge of the counter. “I put it in your room last night, Wangji. The charger should be with it.”

Lan Zhan, who looked as though he had previously been about to argue, deflated. He simply nodded and disappeared to his room, seemingly to plug the computer in. 

“Can you really get him his money back?” Xie Lian asked Hua Cheng. “He’s been using mine for the time being, but I’m not exactly well off.” He trailed off, looking like he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to laugh or cry. 

“I will do my utmost best, Gege,” Hua Cheng promised with an unexpected note of seriousness in his voice. “Lan Wangji…is he one of those Lans?”

Those Lans, being the ancient, rich, and infamous Lan family. They owned a powerful company that worked with museums, had hundreds of millions of dollars, and owned some of the oldest and most valuable books in the world. 

Their only rivals were the Jiangs, Jins, and Nies. The Jiang family — Wei Wuxian’s former family that he didn’t like thinking about — owned Jiang Enterprises. They dealt with shipments and naval security, making them desirable to a lot of rich people. Wei Wuxian had once been one of their chief officers, but after his disownment he made sure to steer clear of anything involving the Jiangs. 

Then there was Nie Industries, headed by Nie Mingjue. Their main thing  was butcher shops and farms. Wei Wuxian hadn’t really cared enough to know that much about them. 

And the Jins, co-owners of Jin-Jun Industries. The company that bought out and then demolished Wei Wuxian’s startup company, Wen Remnants and Co, as well as Hua Cheng’s, Xianle Corporation. 

Jun Wu and Jin Guangshan destroyed their dreams just for money and power. And then they killed Wei Wuxian and Hua Cheng for trying to prove it. 

An hour later, Lan Zhan’s computer had been successfully charged. It was brought down to the living room, so Hua Cheng could work his magic. 

They discovered, after some trial and error, that ghosts and technology did not go well together. Whenever Hua Cheng or Wei Wuxian went near the laptop, it would go on the fritz and promptly stop working. 

“Whatever, guess I’ll just tell you what to do and you do it for me,” Hua Cheng sighed. “Gege, why don’t you type for me?”

“Oh, no, I’m quite terrible with technology,” Xie Lian laughed. “Wangji would be much better.”

Hua Cheng’s scowl deepened but he didn’t protest further. 

“Log into your account,” he ordered. “Okay, now type this in…”

Wei Wuxian let their voices wash over him as he knelt next to Xie Lian and A-Yuan on the floor. He waved a hand in front of the kid’s face to no avail. 

Xie Lian shot him a sympathetic look. “For whatever reason, he can’t see you at all. Wangji told him that you’re invisible friends, which appeased him,” he explained. 

“This seems illegal,” Lan Zhan observed from behind the laptop. “Illegal hacking.”

“Do you want your money back or not?” Hua Cheng snapped, his patience finally breaking. 

“I want my money back in a legal way,” Lan Zhan replied. “Not like this.” He slammed the laptop shut. “If there is another way, I am amenable to hearing it out. I will not, however, condone illegal activities.”

Hua Cheng growled in frustration. “Fine! Have it your way. It’s not like you can use my account.”

Wei Wuxian frowned, an idea forming in his head. “What if he could?” he asked. “What if there was a way to use your money?”

“I didn’t leave a will,” Hua Cheng said coldly. “The only person who had access to it other than me was…” He trailed off, coming to the same conclusion. “Either of you have a phone? I have a contact who could help.”

“You’d do that?” Xie Lian said hopefully. “You’d help?”

“Of course, gege,” he replied smoothly. “Anything for you.” Hua Cheng paused and added, “And only for you”

Wei Wuxian gagged. “God, I hate you,” he said. 

Lan Zhan produced a cell phone from his pocket, interrupting the conversation. “Will this work? What number do I need to call?”

Hua Cheng rattled off a phone number. “Ask for Yin Yu,” he said. “Tell him Hua Cheng is asking for him.”