Chapter Text
When Lan Wangji opens his eyes, he sees a blur of white. He’s in a little room that is sterile and cold. There's a large log next to him stuffed full of sawdust, as well as a bowl heaped high with sunflower seeds.
Alarmed, he looks down at himself. He sees a furry white belly and a set of small pink claws. There’s a strange sensation behind him. When he turns around, he almost passes out in shock.
He has a long, bald tail.
He’s —
He opens his mouth to say something. Instead, a loud, high-pitched squeak escapes him.
This can’t be happening. He closes his eyes and tries to remember.
The curse array on the forest floor. Wei Ying, gripping his sleeve and screaming his name, wild panic at the edges of his voice.
Wei Ying. Where is he? Lan Wangji needs to find him!
As if on cue, Wei Ying’s face suddenly appears before him, large and looming. “Hey, little guy!” he exclaims. “I thought I heard you squeaking!”
His face is too big. His voice is too loud, too deep, too slow. Lan Wangji jumps and winces, cowering with his head in his paws.
“Sorry, I forgot! I scared you.” Wei Ying is whispering now, grimacing in apology. He extends a white-gloved hand into the enclosure and scoops Lan Wangji carefully onto his palm.
Lan Wangji blinks at him. Wei Ying is wearing a long white coat.
I’m your husband, Lan Wangji wants to say, but it comes out as a series of piteous squeaks.
“You'll be running the obstacle course again today,” Wei Ying says, smiling. “I’ve added some new conditions. Don’t let me down, or I'll never hear the end of it from Dr. Nie!”
Lan Wangji has no idea what’s happening. He has no sense of time, of spatial perception. Even Wei Ying’s accent sounds different, jarring and alien, his Yunmeng drawl replaced with the liquid syllables characteristic of the northern clans.
Lan Wangji has found himself in the middle of a horrible nightmare.
But, Wei Ying is still Wei Ying. The same beloved face, the same man he fell in love with and married. Lan Wangji needs to convince him, somehow.
It’s difficult to think. Wei Ying bounces as he walks, and the roiling, up-and-down motion of his palm makes Lan Wangji feel a little ill. When Wei Ying finally releases him, he finds himself in a long corridor, branching in different directions.
Two faces peer down at him. The first one is Wei Ying’s. The second is Nie Huaisang’s.
“Aiya, Wei-xiong, this mouse again?” Nie Huaisang remarks. “This one is obviously an outlier. I don't know what you’re trying to confirm.”
“Shh.” Wei Ying nudges his friend. “Watch.”
For a moment, Lan Wangji contemplates not moving. He has no time for this! He needs to be alone with Wei Ying, to get him to listen!
But Wei Ying is staring at him so hopefully. Lan Wangji hates the idea of letting him down, even in this alternate reality.
And so, he ventures forward. His nose warns him before he takes a step further. He scents the faint whiff of pheromones, of something dangerous and metallic. Instinctively, he turns to go in the other direction. There’s a small yellow object at the end of the corridor. Lan Wangji moves ahead cautiously. His senses prickle again, but it’s not a bad feeling.
The yellow object is mounted in the wall of the corridor. There’s a small groove beneath it. Lan Wangji has seen something like this before. It reminds him of the catch to open the hidden chamber in the library pavilion.
Without hesitation, he presses down on it with his front paws. With a whoosh of compressed air, a wall in the corridor swings open. There's a small pile of sunflower seeds just beyond the threshold.
Above him, Wei Ying gives a quiet whoop.
“How did he —” Nie Huaisang splutters. “God, I swear they’re smarter than people sometimes.”
The maze continues. Each time there’s a new obstacle, Lan Wangji examines it carefully, and unerringly finds a way to get around it.
Above him, Wei Ying is effervescent. He takes notes. He praises Lan Wangji and strokes his back. He rewards him with handfuls of sunflower seeds.
A comfortable fullness is descending on Lan Wangji. He’s moving more slowly, taking a longer time to think. When Wei Ying eventually lifts him up, he nuzzles his cheek against Wei Ying’s thumb and curls into a sleepy white ball in his palm.
“See?” Wei Ying crows, grinning at Nie Huaisang. “He may be an outlier, but I think there’s a lot to learn and study from the way he processes his surroundings.”
Nie Huaisang makes a gagging noise. “That mouse is so obviously in love with you that I'm reminded of Dr. Lan.”
“Nie-xiong!” Wei Ying exclaims, scandalized. “Lan Zhan and I are not… he would never… we’re professional colleagues!”
Wei Ying’s face is terribly red. Lan Wangji sits up on his palm, heart racing.
“You really should ask him out sometime, you know,” Nie Huaisang says. “And perhaps introduce him to your mouse friend.”
Without warning, Nie Huaisang boops Lan Wangji on the nose.
Lan Wangji flinches away, teeth bared.
“Eh, what’s the use,” Wei Ying sighs. “You’re seeing things that aren’t there. He's probably still annoyed at me from that time we were in school together, when I replaced his anatomy texts with 70s Playgirl pictures.”
Wei Ying puts him down. Lan Wangji stretches, feeling unaccountably sleepy. He's back in his cage. There's the log from earlier, and his bowl of sunflower seeds. Wei Ying and Nie Huaisang are already retreating. Lan Wangji can hear their bickering voices fading into the distance.
Come back, he wants to say, but sleep is quickly overtaking him. He can barely formulate a coherent thought.
He crawls into the shelter of the log. It's warm, and the sawdust smells nice and fresh.
He closes his eyes.