This trail, calling it a road was being overly kind unnecessarily, was like tarmac for horses, in relation to his beloved white Mercedes, Lan Zhan thought. It was barely wide enough to accommodate his vehicle, plus the loose stones and debris from the overgrown hedge wasn't doing the suspension any favours, but Lan Zhan ignored all the warning signs because Wei Ying was somewhere here.
He could see the fluttering red ribbon up ahead, just out of reach but Lan Zhan didn't dare to press down on the gas for fear of stalling to a halt instead, his car giving up prematurely since the terrain is more suitable for a four-by-four jeep than a luxury sports car.
Finally the path opens up onto a field and he can see Wei Ying running towards a gate. It's protecting a house, but not just any house, this is sort of a ranch house minus the ranch bit.
Actually, Lan Zhan had no idea if there WAS a ranch involved, or even if this was private property or not, but Wei Ying was safe, if wildly waving at him to get out of his car.
"A-Yuan, A-Yi, we'll be right back, you can see us through the windows," Lan Zhan turns to the kids to reassure them. He points at the manically excited other parent just outside.
"Mn." A-Yuan says, very seriously.
JingYi just nods owlishly, and Lan Zhan gets the feeling that he's missing popcorn here. But he gets out of the car, checking his watch simultaneously. It was a good thing they had left home earlier than necessary.
"Wei Ying, what is it?" Lan Zhan comes closer to the vibrating ball of energy.
Wei Ying is so excited, his tongue is tripping over itself trying to get his words out.
"This is the house, Lan Zhan! This is it! The one I saw in my dream, and alright, it's not quite the same because we don't live here yet, but we're going to! It's this place, it's ours! We have to buy it!" He's barely breathing in his eagerness to explain.
Lan Zhan has taken a hold of his forearms, just to keep Wei Ying grounded. He smells amazing right now.
"There's no sign it's for sale. And we might be trespassing." That was his greatest worry, that some gun-toting hill-billy was gonna shoot first and ask questions later, and he didn't want to hang around here to find out.
But Wei Ying looked far from being ready to go, and they still had to reach the courthouse on time.
His golden eyes sweep across the wrap-around porch, and how much it suits this house. There's a good vibe around the place, good juju, Uncle Qiren would say, even if it was out in the middle of nowhere. Nothing a good WiFi signal couldn't fix, he thinks.
Chopped wooden stumps lie in a heap on one side, and there are dream catchers hanging from the roof, but there's a wonderful metal wind chime making colours dance on the green grass as the dim sunshine catches its pieces, and the breeze makes it sway and tinkle with music.
The space is quite messy and disorganised, Lan Zhan notes, but it is in an endearing way, rather like Wei Ying is.
Someone has taken the time and trouble to plant flowers in a hanging basket near the front door, and the scent of wildflowers drift towards them as they look around. The door itself is quite eccentric; instead of a door knocker, there's a huge oversized horseshoe dead centre on the dark green painted door.
"Can you imagine it, my love? In my dream, it was all white and brownstone, and I think...I think we had a swinging loveseat there," he points to a spot just outside the main window, coming to slide an arm around Lan Zhan's waist. "It's also a great place to raise children," Wei Ying adds, looking around at the fields of grass all around them.
They can't see past the house from this position, but from the way the lush green carpet of grass stretches around the house, it's safe to assume that it goes quite far into the distance.
It might seem crazy to other people, but as Wei Ying points out other little details, he paints a picture that Lan Zhan can see, as clearly as if it was manifesting right in front of his face.
They didn't know how much this property was going to cost, and Lan Zhan knew that Wei Ying could certainly afford to buy it by himself, but there was something even more special about buying it together.
Binding themselves to each other in all the ways they could, in all the ways it mattered.
Secretly, Lan Zhan didn't care where they lived, as long as they were together, and buying this place worked out even better, because his brother could offer it to Nie Huaisang, once they moved here.
He wasn't even surprised at himself by now, as he didn't even stop to think about it. If Wei Ying wanted this house, then they were going to buy this house. The only question was when, not 'if'. Wei Ying had suddenly become an extension of himself without trying to be, and there was nothing Lan Zhan wouldn't do for him. It was nice to understand this about himself, since the idea of it created a settling kind of peace deep inside.
They both became still as the sound of a man talking drifted upon the breeze, carrying his words ever clearer back to them.
"I said I'm tired, Tom. This place just isn't the same after...it's too big for me to look after nowadays, on my own. Just put it up on the market and get a feel for it." It sounded like the man was impatient in a tired way, as if he was acknowledging something he did not want to.
A man dressed in denim dungarees and a white cotton t-shirt came into view. He was chubby, and for the sake of comfort, he had undone the left strap on his shoulder. He was wearing a ten-gallon hat, a red and white chequered towel on his other shoulder, and the phone was plastered against his left ear. When he walked forward, it was a side-to-side motion as if he felt pain in his hips and was trying to compensate for it.
"Howdy, folks?" He says, a little warily. "Can I help you? This is private property." He ends the call despite the voice on the other side frantically calling out, "Dad? Dad? Wait-".
"We apologise for coming here so unexpectedly," Lan Zhan bows, and then remembering that it might be awkward for him to do that to someone who obviously wasn't used to it, he marched forward with his hand outstretched for the other man to shake.
The man slips his phone into the pocket on his chest of his dungarees, and simultaneously whips his hat off with one hand and shakes Lan Zhan's hand with his right.
"I'm Lan WangJi, this is my fiancé, Wei WuXian," he introduces themselves to the puzzled man.
"Heathcliff Watford, pleased to meet ya." He extends his hand towards Wei Ying as well.
Lan Zhan is happy about that.
"So... my place ain't that easy to find..." he prompts them.
It's a polite way to ask what they want.
"We want to buy your house!" Wei Ying blurts out too fast, and then he blushes, realising what he's just said.
Lan Zhan pulls him closer, squeezing his waist to reassure him.
"It's not for sale," he replies, looking shocked.
"This might sound crazy, and I should probably stop talking, but I saw this house in my dream. There were a few changes but it looked the same for the most part. I really wish you would reconsider..." Wei Ying bites his bottom lip, berating himself internally.
Just because he's open and friendly towards everyone he meets for the first time, it doesn't mean that's what he'll receive in return, and Wei Ying should seriously learn to censure what comes out of his mouth.
"I don't know about ya, but the sun this time of day makes me awful thirsty. And I'm of the age where if I don't address my bodily needs straight away, it becomes an unrectifiable mistake. Have you got time to join me for some lemonade? I make it fresh," his vivid blue eyes crinkle with mischief.
"Have we got time, Sweetheart?" Wei Ying jolts suddenly, remembering why they were out this morning.
He's looking up at Lan Zhan, who's already checked his watch. "We're okay for ten minutes, but then we really have to leave."
"Okay, I can drink fast, Sir." Wei Ying beams at him. "Is it okay if we bring the children? They're in the car and I promise they're well-behaved."
"Sure, sure, follow me when you're ready," Heathcliff Watford says, his eyes flickering to their car, before sauntering past his door.
"What do you think about him, my love?" Wei Ying asks Lan Zhan as they walk back to the car.
"Firm handshake, not homophobic so that's always encouraging," Lan Zhan smiles cautiously.
"But he says it's not for sale..." Wei Ying looks heartbroken at that, as he opens the door for A-Yuan to climb out.
Lan Zhan does the same for JingYi on the other side.
"We can talk to him," Lan Zhan says simply, keeping JingYi's little hand firmly encased in his much bigger one, so he doesn't run off.
"I guess." Wei Ying wondered about the accuracy of his mother's prophetic dreams now.
What guarantees did he really have that they were all going to come true? Did his mother ever see things that DIDN'T come true? What did she do about those, if that was the case?
"Wei Ying..." Lan Zhan's soft voice brings him back to the present, and Wei Ying sees that Heathcliff is being a gracious host.
They're practically strangers and yet he's laid out sweet cookies to offset his lemonade, three tall glasses filled with a pale yellow liquid, next to two smaller ones. Heathcliff has opened a folding table and put it in between a rocking chair that he's standing in front of, and a sort of couch big enough for three people. It is covered in a pale lilac floral patterned thick cotton, sun aged and fading.
Lan Zhan solves the problem about space by settling JingYi upon his lap.
The silence is awkward as no one says anything to dissipate it.
Heathcliff is watching them just as obviously as they are studying him back.
The children eagerly finish off their drinks, and begin to fidget, though they remain where they are.
"Here," Heathcliff conjures up a soccer ball and tosses it to A-Yuan, who catches it carefully. "I know it's a few years back, but I recall what being that age is like." He nods towards the grassy area in front of his home. "Kick that back and forth a bit."
"Stay where we can see you both," Wei Ying calls out, using the opportunity to shift closer to Lan Zhan.
He has the same idea, and also scoots over.
"It's so hot," Wei Ying says, draining his glass and motions towards Lan Zhan's serving. "May I?" The ice clicks within the glass as he picks it up.
Lan Zhan is so grateful to him. He didn't want to appear rude to their host but drinking more than a mouthful of fluid would have resulted in him having to find somewhere discreet to throw it all back up again.
"Would you like a refill?" Heathcliff asks him, and Lan Zhan declines politely.
"My wife loved entertaining," he continued, picking up a sugar cookie and looking at it thoughtfully. "Her recipe. They're not like hers, but I bake just to keep her memories alive."
She's obviously not around anymore, but Wei Ying doesn't want to ask him any awkward questions. He seems like a sweet man, if lonely.
"This is an old house," Heathcliff strokes his armrest lovingly. "I find it strange that you said you had a dream about it. And then you found it."
"It's the truth," Lan Zhan replies, somewhat frostily at his implication of Wei Ying lying about that.
Wei Ying squeezes his knee, keeping his hand on it to comfort himself, too.
"Oh, I don't doubt that," Heathcliff laughs, a bellowing, hearty sound that leaves his pink lips. "I should explain, because you're pushed for time. Ya might have found this place accidentally, but my wife and I actively searched for it. Ya see, my wife had a dream about it, as well." He leans back in his rocking chair, satisfied that he's managed to shock them sufficiently.
"Was your wife a ... a shamen?" Wei Ying asked him, finally. He concentrates on the squealing laughter coming from nearby as the children play with the ball out in the field.
"Nah," he laughs again, as if Wei Ying has told him a joke. "Nothing of the sort. But this house, it's special. I don't wanna scare ya, but I've always felt like it has a life of its own. Ya might think I'm the crazy one, but I've lived here a long, long time. Some places are steeped in nature, and as the years go by, strange things start to happen. I'm just saying," he holds his hands up to stop Lan Zhan from saying anything.
"Are you trying to put us off buying it?" Wei Ying asks him cautiously, wiping his sweaty palm on his thigh.
"Quite the opposite. I'm giving you information," Heathcliff snaps the sugar cookie in half and pops both pieces in his mouth, making a face as he chews. "My wife was called here, and she formed an attachment to the place. But me? I think this house only tolerated my presence here because of her. And now, it wants me gone. But the truth is, I'm getting on and maintenance is becoming unmanageable for me. It was different when my Clara was alive," he says wistfully. "She used to potter around and her loving touch was everywhere. Maybe I don't wanna get in between what she and the house had between them. It feels sad."
He doesn't clarify whether it's himself or the house he's talking about.
Wei Ying supposes that it could be both, especially if as Heathcliff says, the house misses his wife as much as he does.
Lan Zhan is getting antsy though, because the minutes have ticked by, and no one is hurrying anything along, and he's already mentioned that they have to be somewhere. The clock is ticking and they shouldn't be late.
"Actually, we were on our way to the courthouse," Wei Ying tells Heathcliff. His knee starts bouncing nervously until Lan Zhan covers it with his big palm.
"For?"
"Do you see those two boys? One of them is ours already but the second, louder one? He's going to legally be ours today," Wei Ying wipes his face on his own shoulder. He's so happy today, it feels like waves of it are surrounding him in a halo of pleasant, joyful vibes.
"Ah. I see. Traffic made ya take the shortcut?"
"Mn. We will be late if we don't leave now." Lan Zhan says pointedly.
"Hmm. Then, I'll tell ya what. How bout you two come and see me later, when ya not too busy?" Heathcliff smiles again, a toothy one this time. "Things like this shouldna be rushed. Besides, I've gotta make sure she likes ya." He strokes the rocking chair again.
"She?" Wei Ying asks, standing up and pulling Lan Zhan with him.
"The house. If she didn't like ya, ya wouldna made it past the trees, out front," Heathcliff nods at them, and goes inside his home with the tray of empty glasses, leaving them with that enigmatic statement.