Chapter Text
***
“Wangji, you’ll be fine. We already practiced the subway route, I packed your gimbap in your favourite lunchbox, your headphones are in your bag, and there are no labels in your suit, I checked.”
Lan Xichen spoke patiently, as always. Though today, he was prepared to be even more patient with his little brother than usual, because today was Lan Wangji’s first day at his first ever job.
He was practically bursting with pride as he watched him nervously straighten his pale blue tie and smooth his hands against his light grey suit, though he couldn’t help but worry.
“I’ll walk you down to the subway stop?”
“No need,” said Lan Wangji, already taking out his headphones for the commute.
Lan Xichen nodded reluctantly. His brother would be alright. He just worried.
He knew that the firm’s HR had been informed of his situation, but he still didn’t like the idea of sending him out into a world that was so often ruthless and unkind to people like him. Especially now that Wangji had enough experience to understand when people were making fun of him.
“Well,” he said bracingly. “Remember. You were the top student at law school, and you deserve every bit of your success. They want your mind. So you can be yourself there.”
Perhaps if he willed it enough, it would be true.
Lan Wangji nodded in that way he did when he was only half listening, eyes down. “I will go now,” he said, unceremoniously walking out the door.
“I- oh, alright,” said Lan Xichen, trailing off. He should really be used to his brother walking off whenever it suited him. He moved to the window and watched him go, following all the steps he usually did.
A left out of the apartment complex, ten steps until a quick and formal bow to their uncle through the window of his gimbap shop, a smooth and even pace that disguised the fact that Lan Wangji was probably counting his steps. Fifty of them to be exact, to reach the subway entrance. And then he was gone.
Lan Xichen let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.
He hoped Hanbada Firm would understand his brother’s brilliance. What he was capable of, what he could contribute, what he could add to their firm. But mostly, he just hoped they would be kind.
***
Lan Wangji was stuck. Outside the building of his new work, specifically. Transfixed with confusion, staring at the revolving doors that everyone seemed to so seamlessly understand.
Lan Wangji was not uncoordinated, as such. He excelled at fencing, which he studiously attended three times a week, and practiced every morning at 6am for an hour, after his 5am meditation.
It’s just that he had been doing that since he was a child, and he understood all of the rules. This was not fencing. It was a new experience, in an unfamiliar environment. Which made it challenging.
Eventually, he was saved by a young woman with a briefcase, who paused as she opened a non-revolving side door that Lan Wangji had not noticed. A regular glass door. Easy to enter or exit.
“Lan Wangji?” she called.
His eyes snapped to her face. One, two. He counted the seconds needed for appropriate eye contact, expression assessment, and facial recognition memorisation. Ah.
“Wen Qing,” he intoned, bowing his head.
Wen Qing had been in his year at law school. He had noted her name in the welcome pack he had studied, containing the list of his fellow first year associates. She looked the same.
Haughty, proud expression, but a red comb in her hair which was there every day, without fail. Lan Wangji had asked her about it once, and she replied shortly that it was the symbol of her family. Lan Wangji thought he had offended her, but then she softened, and told him that she was the first in her family to go to university, and she wanted to remember who she was fighting for.
“Are you having trouble with the door?” she called.
Lan Wangji remained silent. She tilted her head slightly, and gestured. “Come here,” she said, briskly. “This door is easier.”
Lan Wangji followed her direction. He noted that she was watching him as they entered the elevators. “Your first day, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Mn,” he replied.
“Hmm. The rest of us started six weeks ago,” she said. Her eyes swept him up and down.
Lan Wangji remained quiet. He was aware that he had started behind the rest of the associate programme. He had been surprised to receive the call last week inviting him to work for Hanbada, given they had swiftly rejected him via email after a phone interview. However, given he had received no other job offers, he was not in a position to be picky.
She strode out of the elevator with her usual confidence. Lan Wangji followed, looking around as he went. He had not been to the office even once before.
“You’re with me, and Attorney Jiang Wanyin,” she called over her shoulder. “The three of us are under Senior Attorney Nie Mingjue. He’s well respected.”
Lan Wangji nodded. He knew the name, and had read all of Nie Mingjue’s body of legal scholarship, but he was currently trying to walk smoothly while also dealing with the sensory assault of a brand new, bustling office full of noise, unfamiliar faces, ringing phones and what looked like a paper airplane being flung by someone laughing with his back turned.
Lan Wangji paused for a moment, surprised that anyone would be so unprofessional at a prestigious law firm, but before he got a look at the culprit’s face, Wen Qing turned with her hands on her hips.
“Lan Wangji!” she called, louder this time. Louder generally meant he needed to pay more attention.
He proceeded forward. “We have a meeting now,” she said. She pointed towards an office door, and stomped through it.
Lan Wangji paused in his usual manner outside the door, just a few moments of assessing the room and preparing himself for the change, and then entered. It was a long, wood-panelled corner office overlooking the cityscape.
Another person was already waiting at the long meeting table positioned in front of a desk.
“Hello,” said the man, inclining his head lazily. “I’m Jiang Wanyin. You’re Lan Wangji?”
Lan Wangji bowed formally. “Yes. Lan Wangji. Of the Lan Clan of Gusu.”
“Riiight,” said Jiang Wanyin slowly, eyes flickering to Wen Qing, who kept her head resolutely forward as she took her seat. “Well,” he coughed. “Thanks for letting me know your clan and its origin.”
Wen Qing raised her chin very slightly and narrowed her eyes at Jiang Wanyin. Lan Wangji watched Jiang Wanyin’s eyes dart towards her. They seemed to share an understanding of each other’s expressions, and whatever they were communicating, Wen Qing seemed to win.
Jiang Wanyin cleared his throat and lowered his eyes.
Lan Wangji took his seat.
It was a complicated and often inaccurate stereotype to say that all autistic people didn’t understand facial expressions. For Lan Wangji, he understood them just fine. A form of pattern recognition that he applied in many other areas of life. It’s when expressions did not match what people were saying or doing that he struggled.
Just now, Jiang Wanyin had thanked him for his clan information. But his tone was different, and from Wen Qing’s expression afterwards, it looked more likely that he had been making fun of him.
He didn’t care. He knew it was an oddly formal way to introduce himself, having been informed as such. But it was the way he introduced himself.
In any case, he was here to work. He already had one very best friend, in addition to his brother. The two of them were more than enough to satisfy his social leanings. He intended that his connections at Hanbada would only be in furtherance of his work, to uphold the law in accordance with the attorney’s oath he had faithfully sworn.
He took the oath seriously, as he did with all of the roughly 3000 rules he had compiled to direct his new life as a practicing attorney: a mix of attorney ethics laws and codes of conduct, legal frameworks and statutes, and Hanbada’s company policies that he had already memorised.
“Alright, you two, we have a new case this morn- oh,” said a gruff voice, entering the room.
Lan Wangji stood and bowed again, formally.
Nie Mingjue’s brows contracted as he watched him. He was a tall, burly man with thick hair, an unforgiving stare, and firm-set mouth beneath a moustache.
Lan Wangji had googled him in his research on the firm, and he always wore black three piece suits with dark grey ties, though he never seemed to wear his suit jacket. His chest was constantly at war with the buttons of his waistcoat.
He was a legend in law circles. He was, unlike many lawyers, a stickler for morality. He’d once fired a promising associate just for trying to blame something on an intern. Lan Wangji was very excited to work for him. He was looking forward to giving him the notes he had made regarding all of the errors in his legal papers, but he would find the right time to do it, because otherwise that would be rude.
Nie Mingjue was also famous for being direct.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
“Lan Wangji, sir. Of the Lan Clan of Gusu.”
His eyebrows contracted further. “I-…” he said, eyes flicking to Wen Qing and Jiang Wanyin. “I wasn’t aware we had a client.”
“No client, sir. I am an associate. Today is my first day.”
“Your first d-” he said, “Why was I not informed of this? Baoshan Sanren didn’t mention any new associates.”
Nie Mingjue strode quickly over to his desk, and picked up the phone, stopping suddenly with his gaze on a stapled document which was placed directly in the centre of an otherwise clear surface.
“Ah. This looks like your joining form here… And your resumé. But I don’t understand why you’d be starting six weeks aft-” he stopped.
He had flipped to the second page. Lan Wangji lowered his eyes. He knew what was written there. He was not ashamed of it. But he did not like seeing expressions change as people read it. He had watched expressions change in twenty three different interviews. None of which proceeded to the second stage.
“Ah. I…well. Alright,” said Nie Mingjue, putting the document down. Lan Wangji looked up for eye contact. One, two. Nie Mingjue was giving him a searching look. “Alright,” he repeated.
Nie Mingjue dropped his gaze, and pulled out briefing notes from his briefcase to pass around.
“Like I said. We have a new case. First day or not, I expect you to keep up, Lan Wangj-” he stopped.
Lan Wangji was already highlighting the briefing and making notes, the first of which was "Incorrect."
Nie Mingjue raised an eyebrow. “Very well. The main issue is this...”
***
It was an interesting case. Mainly because it involved Lan Wangji’s childhood neighbour.
That, and the fact that he would be fired if he did not win.
He did not mean to overhear. He, Wen Qing and Jiang Wanyin had each been tasked with proposing a strategy for how to cross examine the witnesses of the case.
He had simply finished quickly, and had gone back to Nie Mingjue’s office. The door was ajar, and he heard a woman’s voice. Deep and authoritative.
“I never knew you, of all people, to be so prejudiced,” she said.
“What is that supposed to-”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
A pause. Lan Wangji stood awkwardly with his briefing note, and turned to leave. It was clearly not an appropriate time. Rule 56. Attorneys’ offices are to be respected as places of private and privileged conversation. But he couldn’t help that he heard his name.
“Lan Wangji graduated at the top of his class. Why on earth would we not hire the top student?”
“It’s obvious why he’s been passed over. He’s already being strange. He keeps repeating what clan he’s from. Clan. As if that’s been relevant for the past two hundred years-”
“Is he doing the work?”
“He seems knowledgeable, but mock trials are not real life. I have concerns he’ll alienate jury after jury with his…manner.”
“You don’t want him on your team then.”
“I have a full team already, it was your idea to pair two associates per Senior Attorney, now I have three? And he’s six weeks late. Now I have to make a whole new set of accommodations because he’s new AND autistic-”
“You may do with him as you wish. Terminate his employment if you must. But only if you have just cause. Let him take the lead in this case and make your decision.”
A sigh. “Fine.”
Lan Wangji swallowed, and left.
***
He had not recognised her at first, but when she heard his full name, her eyes lit up, and she asked after his Uncle, Lan Qiren. Lan Wangji searched her face. It was older, true, but he remembered. The neighbour. She had been there on the day he spoke his first words, when he was five years old.
Uncle had taken him to the doctor. He hated the doctor. At first, he was interested in all of the diagrams and models of the body and systems in the medical offices, but the doctors were always so brisk with him that he stopped studying them. They were constantly poking and prodding him with cold instruments and the lights were too bright.
Uncle had taken care of him and Xichen after their father died. He still remembered his mother and the visits he got to have with her, and he knew she was not dead, but Uncle simply stated that they wouldn’t be seeing her anymore.
He was a stubborn and sometimes cold man, but he liked rules and everything to be in its place, so Lan Wangji understood him just fine. And Lan Wangji had Xichen for warmth. Xichen always played with him and didn’t mind that he didn’t talk.
Uncle walked back with him to Cloud Recesses, their apartment complex. The fading blue mural on the side of building had beautiful clouds above a mountain landscape and a gaggle of white rabbits playing below a waterfall. Lan Wangji had been fascinated with it ever since he could remember.
Lan Wangji held his rabbit toy silently and counted down the steps until they were home, back in a low-lit environment with even temperature and everything placed just so.
Screaming. Lan Wangji stared. He had never heard people screaming before. They did not own a television, and his family insisted upon a quiet and calm tone of voice.
The faces of the people screaming seemed angry. A man he recognised as their neighbour was screaming at another neighbour, his wife.
She was a nice lady who looked after him sometimes. He did not like her cluttered apartment, but she let him read all her books for however long he liked. She’d often say strange things like “Oh, you must like the pictures, do you?”
She was cowering. He was saying something about how she was going around with another man.
“He was a delivery man, dear, I would never -”
“SHUT UP!”
Lan Wangji flinched. Uncle tried to steer him towards the stairs, but the yelling man got in their way.
“YOU!? YOU! YOU’RE TRYING TO GET WITH MY WIFE, YOU BASTARD-”
“What?” replied Uncle haughtily. “What are you talking about?”
“YOU’RE ALWAYS ROUND WHEN I’M NOT HERE!”
“Your wife assists me with looking after my nephews when I must work.”
“YOU LIAR-”
And the man launched himself at his uncle, fists first.
Lan Qiren was a champion fencer, but he was not armed, and not prepared for a drunken street brawl to erupt in the middle of the day. He defended himself, but otherwise stuck strictly to the principles of minimal harm, blocking blows rather than landing them.
Lan Wangji had never seen a fist fight before. It was so loud, and he was five, and there was so much screaming from the man and his wife and he just wanted it to stop-
“Apartment Policy on Tenant Behaviour section 19B!” he said, hands over his ears.
Uncle froze, as did the lady neighbour.
“Section 19B states that all tenants shall exercise noise control within and outside the apartment grounds! Section 20 states that any violence within and outside the apartment grounds is strictly forbidden and can result in summary eviction!”
His uncle and the lady were still as statues.
The neighbour man swayed, and then seemed to decide he no longer wanted to fight a person who was not paying attention to him. He let go and stumbled away down the street.
Uncle surged to Lan Wangji, kneeling and grabbing him by the shoulders. Lan Wangji flinched.
“You are not in trouble,” said Uncle quietly, eyes roving all over his face. They were wide.
He had not seen them like that before, except the last time they left his mother’s house. Later, he understood that it meant his Uncle was scared.
Lan Wangji looked at the ground. He just wanted to go inside.
“Take him Qiren, I’m so sorry,” said the woman tearfully, wringing her hands.
“Let’s go,” said Uncle, taking him upstairs. The door shut behind them and Lan Wangji ran to his room. He took out his rabbit toys and arranged them in the way he liked. He could hear his Uncle in the doorway over his shoulder. He didn’t usually follow him in here. He understood that Lan Wangji liked being left alone to play.
“Wangji,” he said quietly.
Lan Wangji kept his eyes on his toys, making sure they were sitting up perfectly straight.
“You can talk,” said Uncle.
Lan Wangji paused. Yes, obviously. He didn’t understand why people always said things that were obvious. It was one reason he’d never bothered to speak before. It seemed to him that so much of talking was saying things that didn’t need to be said.
“You can read, too,” said Uncle. “When did you read the tenancy rules?”
Lan Wangji stayed quiet. Again, he did not understand what Uncle meant. The tenancy rules were displayed in a glass cabinet in the foyer for all to see. He walked past it every morning as his Uncle paused to check the mail before taking him next door to the gimbap shop.
“Wangji,” he said, coming closer and kneeling on the ground next to his rabbits. “It’s alright if you don’t like to talk. But everyone thought you couldn’t. I thought you couldn’t. Do you understand?”
Oh. He had not understood that.
He knew he could talk. So he thought other people knew that too.
Uncle was watching him. Lan Wangji had become used to being watched. Adults did it to him a lot.
His mother used to watch him like that a lot.
“Wangji. You like to read? Have you read anything else?”
Lan Wangji was confused. Uncle had been reading him and Xichen bedtime stories since he could remember. Of course he had read them, Uncle held the books so they could both see the words. Why could Uncle not remember that?
Uncle continued. “Could you tell me what books in this room you have read?”
Lan Wangji paused in tying the ribbon on his favourite rabbit’s head. He pointed to the bookshelf.
“Which one, Wangji?”
Lan Wangji looked up, a frown crossing his small face, and made eye contact. One, two.
He pointed again, and waved at the bookshelf.
“All of them?” whispered Uncle. He nodded. “What else?”
Lan Wangji pointed out the door of his room. In the direction of all the other books in the house, neatly stacked in the living room bookshelf, the corner of which was visible from where he was sitting.
The front door was wrenched open loudly, and shut. Xichen was home from school. Lan Wangji perked up. Xichen would play with him.
“Uncle? Wangji?” He called, a thump on the ground indicating a dropped bag.
His head poked into the room. “Ah. Uncle is playing Rabbit Party?”
Lan Wangji didn’t nod, since technically Uncle was not playing Rabbit Party.
Uncle was stroking his beard. He did that when he was thinking.
“Your brother spoke today, Xichen,” he said.
“Oh! Finally,” said Xichen affably, selecting a carrot toy from the immaculate toy bin and joining Wangji.
Uncle was now staring at Xichen. “Xichen…did you know he could talk?”
“Of course!” said Xichen. “He’s never done it in front of me but I don’t mind. He just doesn’t like talking.”
Lan Wangji continued playing, even though he didn’t really like it when people talked about him as if he wasn’t there. They did that a lot.
“I see,” said Uncle, voice strange. He stayed with them for a few more minutes as Xichen helped Wangji feed the rabbits. He didn’t always do it correctly, but that was okay, because Xichen was his big brother, and big brothers were allowed to do things incorrectly.
“Wangji, I will leave you to play now. But can you tell me one more thing? Just one?” he asked.
Lan Wangji knew he was supposed to look at his Uncle when he asked a question, so he did. It was the rules.
“Which books do you like best?”
Lan Wangji blinked at him for a moment, and then rose quickly and walked out of the room. He went to the bookshelf, located the Books That Made Sense, and pointed.
Uncle, who followed him, shook his head slightly. His voice was still so strange. “My law books? But…but they’re university textbooks.”
Lan Wangji said nothing. He liked all books, but these ones were the best. They had all the rules.
“Wangji,” Uncle said again. Lan Wangji was surprised to see that his face was wet. It felt strange. He didn’t know why everyone seemed to be making such a big deal of this.
“Well. I think I’ll be cancelling your doctor’s appointment next week,” said Uncle eventually.
Lan Wangji blinked. Now, that was interesting. Perhaps he should talk more often.
***
“It’s so wonderful to see how you’ve grown up, Wangji! Your Uncle must be so proud of you. Look at this place, it’s such a nice law firm! You’ve done so well.”
Lan Wangji bowed his head awkwardly, given he may not survive the week.
“You know each other?” asked Nie Mingjue.
“Oh yes! Me and my husband are- were- his neighbours, years ago,” she nodded.
Lan Wangji noted her correction to the past tense. They were in the same complex still, but they never saw each other. The far side of the complex was cheaper; they had money troubles. And her husband was, of course, dead. She had killed him. Allegedly. Hanbada were handling her defence.
“Well! That’s beneficial. Lan Wangji, I’ll be assigning this case to you then,” said Nie Mingjue shortly. Lan Wangji saw Wen Qing and Jiang Wanyin’s faces whip around in alarm.
“To him?” demanded Jiang Wanyin. “On his first day?”
“Of course! He’s familiar with our client, and he knows the apartment complex! These are things we needed to investigate anyway.”
Lan Wangji knew that was not the only reason he was being assigned the case. This was a test. Jiang Wanyin slumped down in his seat, scowling. Wen Qing, however, looked perfectly serene.
“Great!” she said. “What’s next?”
“Well, we have our strategy for defence, we have our client, now I would like Lan Wangji to say what he wants to do next.”
All eyes snapped to him.
“I would like a reconstruction of events in situ,” he said.
Nie Mingjue’s face was impossible to read, while Jiang Wanyin muttered something like "just say on site."
“Very well. Go there now, you two stay here and work on the prosecution discovery, they’ve just sent it over. Is Wei Wuxian in?” he asked, looking at Wen Qing.
Jiang Wanyin scoffed. “Probably not. It’s before noon.”
Wen Qing glared at him. “He is. He was here before me, but he emailed an hour ago to say he went out on another case.”
Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes and took out his phone, dialing. “Wei Wuxian,” he barked. “I need you at Cloud Recesses apartment complex in the next hour.”
An indistinguishable yet excited sounding voice said something to make Nie Mingjue roll his eyes again.
“I don’t care that they make good wine around there! Just get there.”
Nie Mingjue hung up. “Off you go,” he said, jerking his thumb at the door.
***
It felt strange to be taking his regular commute home in the course of working. He and the neighbour sat next to each other uncomfortably. Lan Wangji knew it was rude to put on his headphones when he was in company, so he didn’t.
Instead, they sat largely in silence on the train, and he tried not to wince at the scrape of the wheels on the rails.
“Alright, here we are,” she said, as they reached their stop, as if he didn’t know. Lan Wangji followed, slower than usual at her pace, as she scaled the stairs of their station.
Around the back side of the Cloud Recesses complex, the one bedroom apartments were darker and older than the two and three bedrooms round the front. She was situated on the second floor, and fumbled with her keys as they went, mumbling about how she could never find the right one.
Lan Wangji prepared himself as they reached the second floor. He was here to notice every last detail, and that included any inconsistencies in this woman’s story or behaviour. He needed to file away every moment, however unimportant, and he needed above all to focus-
“Hello!” came a light, singsong voice. “Lan Wangji! I can’t believe it’s you! Oh wow, you- uh…never mind. Um, I’m your investigator, haha! Hi!”
Lan Wangji stilled. He recognised the clothes. The investigator called Wei Wuxian. And also the paper plane thrower from earlier. He prepared himself for an annoying afternoon, and lifted his eyes to the man’s face, before swallowing.
Lan Wangji was aware of what attractive people looked like, according to societal standards. He knew that plenty of people had specifically referred to him as attractive- that is, before they got to know him and found him cold and difficult and strange.
But this man had the most beautiful face he had ever seen. He was surprised.
He often tried not to put stock in the aesthetics of others. To him, beautiful faces were usually just warning signs of danger. People he needed to be wary of. In law school, beautiful faces often sidled up to him in the library, or in the cafeteria, as if he was like them, as if he was being rescued from the wrong table.
Then they spent a few minutes with the person behind the face, and it became clear that they viewed him as a waste of their time. He was not rich, or influential, or useful to know, or capable of small talk or schmoozing or fawning.
In a law world dominated by the principle of ‘who you know,’ Lan Wangji was definitively not worth knowing- summa cum laude notwithstanding.
The investigator was dressed simply in black jeans and a red wool sweater, his hair tied up halfheartedly and escaping in his face. Lan Wangji felt a strange urge to push it away so he could see his face better.
But what momentarily held him paralysed was his expression. Expressions were patterns. And this man’s expression was open, and happy, and earnest.
He had the broadest, most honest smile he’d ever seen. But most of all, the man looked at him like he was genuinely happy to see him. This was an expression he was unused to being directed at him.
Usually, he saw that look on people’s faces only when they spotted another person who would rescue them from talking to him. If he wasn't sure that there were only three people on the landing, he'd have looked over his shoulder to check that Wei Wuxian wasn't smiling at someone else.
This man was unnerving. And lovely. And annoying. Lan Wangji felt immediately uncomfortable.
He looked down. “I am Lan Wangji. Of the Lan Clan of Gusu,” he said automatically.
“I know, silly!” laughed the man called Wei Wuxian. What a nice name. Although he had never been called silly in his entire life. Ridiculous.
Wei Wuxian cocked his head, smiling even wider. “Don’t you remember me?”
Lan Wangji frowned. He did not forget people's names. And he would never forget this face.
“We have never met,” he said decisively.
“Sure we have! Just not…well, face to face,” said Wei Wuxian, waggling his eyebrows. “I’ll give you a hint,” he said, winking at him. Lan Wangji stood stiffly on the landing, not knowing where to look. He’d winked at him. Extremely ridiculous.
Wei Wuxian knelt to retrieve something from a bag stashed haphazardly by the door. He turned back, and held out a bottle.
A blue and white traditional ceramic wine jar, with the characters for ‘Emperor’s Smile,’ emblazoned in beautiful calligraphy.
Lan Wangji felt the trickle, then the flood of recognition.
Oh.
Oh.
This was going to be a problem.
***