The Truth That Lies (WangXian Modern AU)

11

I nod, grateful, relieved. Hearing it from him was assuring.

"Second," he inhales deeply. "You two are not kids anymore. You have to make decisions about your life, and some of them will be permanent. For example, what you two are planning to do." His stern gaze remains on me. "Look, it's not my place to decide what you do with him, also I know telling you to not see him won't stop you. But I don't want to see you fall apart again. Do you understand?"

I gulp. "Yes, Uncle."

"Good," he says. "If you don't see a future with him, the best advice I can give you is to cut it off before it gets too complicated like last time. That's why, Xian, I want you to tell me from your own moth."

Uncle leans in, propping his forearms over his legs. I feel tingles in my stomach that I get whenever he becomes serious. "Is he a forever?"

For a second everything Lan Zhan and I have been through replays in my head, and I smile realizing a crystal clear answer.

"Yeah," I reply. "He's a big fucking forever."

Uncle Jiang's lips stretch to a compassionate smile. "That's what I thought." He says, and it sounds sincere. "So now, you'll have to sort some things out. I don't know if you stubborn-ass kids care for things like blessings." He rolls his eyes—a perfect copy of Cheng. "But forever is a long time, Xian. Lan Wangji will still be Qiren's nephew all through that."

All of a sudden, the clarity I had seems to reduce. "Yeah . . . I get it."

He sighs. "I know, the incident was traumatizing. You don't have to rush, take it slow. On the bright side, you have all that time to work through it. You're a free soul, Xian, don't forget who you are."

I smile. "Thanks."

He reaches out and pats my shoulder. "Always, kid." He says.

He sits back and his expression turns to a comical one. "Well, the third, I don't know if you need this advice or not," I'm already guessing where it's going. "But, you know, when it comes to sexual-"

"No thank you," I sheepishly grin, almost knocking my foot on the small worktop as I stand up in a rush. "I'm twenty-seven."

"Oh then for the fourth," I can already hear his laugh in his voice. "Planned pre-"

I slam the door shut.

Lan Zhan

On the way back home, Wei Ying drives silently. His eyes were on the road, but only on the road, with his gaze settled somewhere in his mind. The radio was turned on, a song with heavy music coming out from the speakers—one of Wei Ying's favorites, I recognized. But he's not singing along. Neither is he making bizarre faces, speeding up, or letting go of the wheel to annoy me.

He was deep in thought.

I'm about to question him when my phone rings. I pick it up. "Brother,"

"Wangji," he says on the line, his voice cheerful yet controlled as always. I imagine him smiling, from wherever he is. "How is the new year so far?" he asks.

"It's good, brother. I met Wei Ying's family."

"That's great..."

We talk for a while. I ask where he is. Came to London for some work, he says. He'd be back in China in a few weeks. As always, this is one of those few calls that exceed 3 minutes.

Ever since he entered into business, he always had to travel around, managing international branches, causing us to live separately most of the time. I've always cherished the little time we get to spend together. That's why, since then, even now, I'm always eager for this call.

"Is Xian with you," he asks.

"Yes, brother."

I turn the phone towards Wei Ying and he yells. "Hey there Xichen."

They share New Year greetings. I feel my heart leap as I listen to their cheerful conversation. Not everything is broken, I think to myself. It's this existence of these little things that makes me want to hope for more.

When the call ends, Wei Ying had a smirk in the corners of his lips.

"What are you smiling about?"

"Just realized that more people who can make you . . . un-one-worded exist" He chirps. "Plus, I'm thanking myself for choosing to drive 'cause you love stopping the car to answer the phone."

His point remains standing.

"You were so deep in thought earlier," I remark. "Did it go well with Mr. Jiang?"

Wei Ying scoffs. "Way better than expected."

"Then?"

He sighs. "Well, I was thinking . . ." he falters, biting his lip, and sighs again. "Lan Zhan, should we meet you uncle?"

I avert my gaze to him, he meant what he asked. "At once?"

"I just thought, shouldn't we talk to him before he barges into our house or something." He tries to laugh it off, but I know him better.

He sighs and starts again "What I mean is, I don't want us to end like last time. No, I don't want us to end, at all. So, shouldn't we at least try to sort things out with him? We can't ignore him forever, can we?"

For a moment, I see a faint silver line in what he said. A tactical part of myself says that maybe, just maybe, this different approach to the matter could help.

I suppose I took too long to answer. He says, "Never mind, forget that I asked."

"We can try."

"Okay." he exhales, suddenly uncertain. "Are you sure?"

"Mn," I reply, but I was not, entirely, sure.

Uncle has not tried to contact me ever since I came back to China without informing him. We had an agreement, but this much of unconcern itself was concerning.

When we go home and get to bed, both wide awake thinking of the sudden decision we made, I call out to him. "Wei Ying,"

"Hmm?" he answers, hoarsely, lying with his back against my chest.

"If uncle doesn't agree, can you promise to stay with me?"

He turns around to face me. He leans in and kisses my lips. Laying his head on the pillow, a few inches away from mine, he says, "Of course. As long it makes you happy."

Extra:

Well, beware Qiren

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