Chapter Text
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[WATCH] Wei Ying breaks men's free skating world record with breathtaking performance at Grand Prix Final!
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[WATCH] Will we see a quad axel this season? Behind-the-scenes training video leaked on Nie Huaisang's Instagram!
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[QUIZ] Test your YingZhan knowledge: who won which competition? Can you keep count of eleven seasons of gold medals? The answer to Question 13 will shock you!
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[WATCH] Under the spotlight: shock proposal on the podium at this year's World Championships!
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[WATCH] Wei Ying and Lan Zhan talk medals, training schedule, and family life with their new daughter!
"And, can you tell me – what motivates you to get up at such a horrifyingly early hour? Is it all about those gold medals?"
"It is not about the medals."
"Aiya, no – it's totally about the medals! We have a bet going at home to see whose display shelf will break first, only Lan Zhan says they're not baby-proof so we'll have to figure something else out before she starts walking –"
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[WATCH] TikTok Summer Skating Challenge: Can you learn to skate backwards before Lan Jingyi lands his triple axel? New progress video posted daily!
"Oh my god, Sizhui, why do you hate me –"
"I'm just helping your motivation. Now hush, you're spoiling the video –"
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[PICTURES] Figure skating's brightest stars Wei Ying and Lan Zhan wed in stunning outdoor ceremony!
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[QUIZ] Which of this season's new junior skaters has the same taste in music as you? Watch out for a shock result!
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[OPINION] A fall is better than a downgrade: comparisons between Wei Ying and Lan Zhan's quadruple axel attempts so far this season.
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[WATCH] Baby's first ice skates: Ouyang Zizhen's Instagram gives us our first glimpse of Immortal Peak Arena's toddler class! Which famous figure skaters can you spot among the parents?
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[WATCH] TWO-FOR-ONE AT THE WORLD CHAMPIONSHIPS: LAN ZHAN AND WEI YING MAKE HISTORY WITH CLEAN QUADRUPLE AXELS IN THE SAME EVENT!
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[WATCH] Keeping it in the family: Wen Qing's daughter lands first single jump at the age of three!
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[QUIZ] Hockey or Figure: find out which sport suits you better!
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[WATCH] Wei Ying and Lan Zhan spotted with two-year-old daughter Wei Xinyi at public skating session!
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[WATCH] TikTok Summer Skating Challenge: Can you learn a basic slalom before Lan Jingyi lands a quadruple jump? New progress video posted daily!
"Are you genuinely going to do this every year? I hate you so much –"
"I'm sorry, who was it again who landed their triple axel out of spite before the second week of August last time?"
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[WATCH] Wei Ying and Lan Zhan's new exhibition pair skate leaked in full on Nie Huaisang's Instagram!
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[WATCH] Keeping it in the family… or not? How adorable does Wei Ying's daughter look in her new hockey skates?!
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[WATCH] Jin Ling's junior debut takes the figure skating world by storm with a record-breaking short program score in his first event!
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[WATCH] Lan Sizhui wins bronze with personal best score at his first senior Grand Prix Final!
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[OPINION] Making way for the new generation: at what age should senior figure skaters retire?
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Four Years Later
"Baba!" yells Wei Xinyi across the ice, leaning out dangerously far over the barrier. "Diedie says I'm not allowed on patch in hockey skates!"
Wei Ying raises his eyebrows, pulling out of his warm-up and gliding around the edge of the rink to where Lan Zhan now has one arm around Xinyi's chest like a seatbelt to keep her from leaning any further. "Diedie is correct. You'd ruin the ice, baobei – put on your figure skates if you want to come on."
Xinyi pouts in a way that's extremely exaggerated while somehow still bearing alarming similarity to what Wei Ying affectionately calls Lan Zhan's sulky face. "Don't want to."
Wei Ying shrugs. "Then you have to wait for the public session later."
"Boring!"
Wei Ying attempts to catch Lan Zhan's eye while also attempting not to laugh. Lan Zhan studiously avoids his gaze.
"Aiya, Zixuan will take you outside to play once he arrives." He reaches out to ruffle Xinyi's already-messy hair with one gloved hand. "Until then it's patience or figure skates."
"Your child is a menace," says Wen Qing a few minutes later as they watch Xinyi fly around the rink far faster than she should really be skating during a warm-up.
"Nothing like your child, then," Wei Ying replies cheerfully.
Wen Qing narrows her eyes at him. "Nothing like my child at all."
Jiang Meixiu is –
– currently racing Wei Xinyi around the edge of the rink. Wei Ying can't even complain, because her posture and grace as she does so is impeccable for a seven-year-old and she's clearly showing full awareness of her position on the ice in relation to every other skater present. This is slightly more than can be said for Xinyi.
"Your child," says Wei Ying fondly, "ignores my instructions far worse than Xue Yang ever did."
"It's a good thing you're not her coach, then," Wen Qing replies archly, and then Xue Yang sticks his face between them from behind to join the conversation in a way which is clearly supposed to startle them and doesn't work at all because he's been doing it for most of the past seven years already.
"Talking about me?"
"Wipe that smirk off your face," says Wen Qing. "Your coach was reminding me that until recently you set the standard for disobedience in this rink."
"Me?" Xue Yang leans back against the barrier, caught in place by one toe pick with his other leg folded up to rest his skate on his knee. He runs two black-gloved fingers down the blade to collect a handful of ice shavings.
"Xuanyu deserves those today," says Wei Ying with a nod towards the loaded weapon of Xue Yang's hand. "He told me I was getting old last night."
Xue Yang smiles and dips his head in mock-acknowledgement. "At your service."
"That's a horrible game," says Wen Qing as he skates away. She's possibly suppressing a smile. "I can't believe you encourage him."
Wei Ying looks at her askance. "Are you telling me you don't remember what we used to do with the ice?"
"I remember you used to eat it," she says disdainfully.
"I never – okay, maybe once or twice when I was so small you couldn't even –"
"You were fourteen."
Wei Ying wrinkles his nose. "Don't you have a program to be working on?"
"Yeah," Wen Qing says after a moment. There's a distant, almost thoughtful look on her face.
"What?"
Wen Qing shakes her head. "Nothing. I'm just tired today."
"Hmm," says Wei Ying with suspicion.
Wen Qing peers behind him with a you might want to look there nod. "Your daughter's about to fall over."
This is an interesting statement. Wei Ying turns to see Meixiu on a stable landing edge and Xinyi watching her with intent concentration.
"What was that, double salchow?"
"Toe loop."
Wei Ying sighs as Xinyi pushes into the setup steps. "I'm blaming you for this."
Wen Qing shrugs. "As if it's my fault my child is precocious and enjoys teaching."
Xinyi underrotates the jump by half a turn, catches her toe pick too heavily in the ice at the forwards landing, and falls sprawling onto her front with a punched-out winded ah.
"Did you know," says Wei Ying conversationally from right behind Meixiu, "that if a skater doesn't yet have a consistent single axel, it's not usually a good idea to get them trying doubles?"
Meixiu has the decency to look vaguely contrite. "I thought her axel was fine."
"You have an interesting definition of fine," says Wei Ying. "A-Yi, what's the current status of your axel?"
Xinyi dusts ice off herself as she finishes clambering back to her feet and recovering her breath. She pulls the sulky-pouting-face again. "Banned."
"Why?"
"Because you're a stupid meany-head –"
"Ah-ah, what are we working on –"
"A better air position," Xinyi finally says in what Wei Ying assumes is supposed to be an imitation of his voice. Meixiu snickers.
"Aiya, you two," says Wei Ying with a half-suppressed smile. "Go and do some spins instead, I don't have time for babysitting when my free skate choreo still isn't finished."
"It's less than two months 'til the start of the season," says Meixiu in an unnecessarily judgemental tone eerily reminiscent of Yu Ziyuan.
"Thank you," Wei Ying says pointedly. "I wasn't aware."
"You're welcome," replies Meixiu archly, and skates away with Xinyi following.
*
Half an hour later, the doors at the end of the balcony swing open to admit – okay, they can hardly be called the juniors any more when the youngest of them is seventeen and about to enter his third senior season, but they'll always be babies in Wei Ying's heart. (And they still mostly ride in Jin Zixuan's minivan with A-Yan, which they definitely wouldn't do if they wanted anyone to take them seriously.) Sizhui has his phone out, walking backwards with the camera pointed at Jingyi as he narrates.
"And this year's Summer Skating Challenge is a tough one – it's your turn to try a real figure skating jump! We want to see your videos – it doesn't matter what you do, it could be a waltz jump or a bunny hop or a –"
"– bunny hops don't count, there's no rotation –"
"– shut up, Lingling, you don't make the rules. Any movement where both skates leave the ice and you're still upright afterwards –"
"Stairs," says A-Qing, warning, and Sizhui nods as he smoothly continues – still backwards – down past the boot store to rinkside.
"Wait," says Jingyi suspiciously. "What's my side of it this time?"
"Oh, that's the best part." Sizhui grins, phone camera still trained on Jingyi's face. "Our viewers are challenging themselves, so naturally they'll want to see you really pushing for something big." He changes tone, narrating again as Jingyi follows him the rest of the way down the stairs. "This summer, while you work on your first ever baby jump, Lan Jingyi will be attempting to land… a quadruple axel!"
"I – what?!! You can't just – Sizhui–!!"
Sizhui blinks innocently. "What?"
Jingyi gapes at him. "You –"
"Haven't you noticed? Your jumps are bigger than mine now."
"But – you always –"
Sizhui shrugs. "Mine are smoother and lighter, that's why I get better GOEs than you. But yours have the height for more rotation." He pauses, thoughtful. "Mine don't."
"You're unbelievable."
"I'm a delight," says Sizhui very seriously, and ends the video.
It's a race to the sound system, after that – this early in the summer, program run-throughs are sparse enough for the music taste of whoever has control of the aux in-between to actually matter.
"Don't let him!!" shouts Jingyi as Jin Ling leaps onto the ice and speeds straight for the other side of the rink – A-Qing follows, one skate still untied, and immediately trips over the loose angle of her blade, sprawling on her stomach with a despairing wail as Jin Ling reaches the opposite barrier –
"Oops," says Nie Huaisang, smiling as he glides in front of Jin Ling to plug his phone in at the last moment. "No Eminem for us today."
Jin Ling huffs in sulky half-annoyance. "I wasn't going to –"
"Of course." Huaisang pats him sympathetically on the arm. "And yet."
"Wei Ying," says Baoshan Sanren with I've been standing beside you for three minutes and you haven't noticed amusement, "are we planning on doing any work today?"
"Huh – aiya, don't tell me you weren't watching them too." Wei Ying smiles, fond and full of warmth as he watches Sizhui and Jingyi warm up side-by-side (by the look of their conversation, still arguing about this year's summer challenge).
"I was waiting for my skater to show me the rest of his free skate," says Baoshan Sanren pointedly. "Have you finished the choreography yet?"
"Well," says Wei Ying, and then smiles in a transparent attempt at distraction. "Why don't we work on jumps for a while first? My quad lutz was a bit off last week, I think it's –"
"Your quad lutz is fine," says Baoshan Sanren with one eyebrow raised. "Your first event this season is in six weeks and three days. Go and put your headphones in and don't come back to me until you've finished it."
*
It's a long, annoying morning. Wei Ying sits across from Wen Qing at the familiar table in McDonald's and runs one finger along the faint scratch in the wipe-clean surface that's at least three years old by now. The building's been redecorated twice in the years they've been coming here – but this table's always stayed in the same place, by the same window with the same view, and as Wei Ying sits looking out over the familiar tree-lined car park with the same midday sunlight slanting down across it it's as though all at once he feels the ghosts of every version of himself who's ever sat here before.
It's almost as if it's their seat, not his.
By this point Wen Qing would usually be tossing fries at him and telling him to lighten the fuck up and get out of his own head. But it's been almost twenty minutes and she's yet to say a word.
Wei Ying sticks a fry in his mouth and wrinkles his nose at the discovery that it's almost cold. Maybe they can put in another order; it's not like either of them have actually eaten this one –
"I'm retiring," says Wen Qing, and a single one of the bright-gold threads tethering Wei Ying in place snaps and fades.
"What," he says, quieter than he meant to. She's looking at him straight on, but the edges of her expression are pinched with some complicated emotion and her hands are folded together on the table in the way Wei Ying knows means she's deliberately keeping herself still.
"I sprained my wrist on that fall at the end of last season –"
Wei Ying laughs, short and incredulous. "And you're – because of that?!"
"Shut up and listen," Wen Qing snaps. "I sprained my wrist on that fall at the end of last season and it still doesn't feel right. Every time I do a Biellmann spin my back aches for at least a day and a half afterwards. My triple axel –"
She cuts off, lips pressed tight together. There's the slightest hint of redness at the corners of her eyes.
"Your triple axel is fine," Wei Ying says quietly.
"It's harder," says Wen Qing after a long pause. Her voice is barely steady. "Every week it's harder."
"But that doesn't mean –"
Wen Qing pulls in a deep breath; sits up a little straighter. Wei Ying stops talking.
When she speaks again it's tight; certain in a brittle way Wei Ying wishes he wasn't long-ago-familiar with.
"I'm not waiting until something else makes the decision for me."
Neither of them say anything for a long while.
"Have you told Baoshan Sanren?"
"Not yet."
"Jiang Cheng?"
Wen Qing nods. "Last night."
"Fuck," says Wei Ying after a moment. He pulls his hands over his face, ignores the extremely weird mixture of emotions currently blocking up his throat, and tries again. "How – when –"
"About a month before the end of last season," Wen Qing says quietly.
There's another silence.
"So when you cried on the podium at worlds –"
"Yes," says Wen Qing wryly, "thank you for pointing that out."
They look at each other. For a single moment, hovering like the echo between the final note of music and the roar of the crowd that comes after, every version of themselves through almost two decades is watching.
Wei Ying picks up a cold fry and leans over to dip it in Wen Qing's milkshake. She moves to smack his hand away – and he dodges, a pattern so familiar it's all but reflex, and for a moment they're teenagers again –
– and then they're not.
Wei Ying hesitates. What will you do is on the edge of his tongue – but it's a question that feels too vast for right now.
What will you do –
What comes after this?
What could ever follow this lifetime?
*
Baoshan Sanren is watching him too carefully. She hasn't asked to see his free skate choreography since Wen Qing told her two days ago.
It's an unspoken whisper around the rink; no-one else knows yet and at the same time they can all feel something's changed. The rink is a web, tight-woven between every skater – when something shifts, they all feel it, even if none of them yet understand the cause.
Nie Huaisang corners him halfway through the third day.
"You know," he says accusingly.
Wei Ying shrugs. "And?"
Huaisang gapes at him, like he didn't expect an admission so soon – or at all. "Well?!"
"You can wait," says Wei Ying. "It's not mine to tell."
Huaisang follows him as he skates away. "I think someone's leaving," he says, cheerful and bright in that ever so slightly sly way he has when he's on the scent of gossip. "I think someone's retiring."
"That's hardly a difficult guess," says Wei Ying derisively. "We're all in our thirties now."
Huaisang pouts. "You don't need to be so mean about it."
Wei Ying knows he's being a bit of a dick. They're all on edge in a way no-one usually is at the start of summer – this past week has been littered with the kind of arguments and mid-lesson tears that don't usually come until well into the next season. It's as though the whole rink is on the brink of some destabilising seismic shift, and no-one likes it.
It's not just Wen Qing.
Wei Ying still hasn't quite admitted to himself that it's not just Wen Qing.
*
Wei Ying slips in through the unlocked door of their apartment and nudges it shut with one careful foot kicked behind him. Wei Xinyi is a loose weight in his arms, head heavy on his shoulder as she drifts more than half asleep after a late-evening hockey practice that overran until Wei Ying very nearly ended up with a parking ticket.
"Lan Zhan," he calls through the dim hallway, voice pitched low and quiet to keep from waking Xinyi.
Lan Zhan takes almost three seconds longer than usual to appear. There's just the faintest hint of stiffness about his movements when he does; Wei Ying spots a damp patch on one side of the knee of his sweatpants where an ice pack might have rested.
He frowns. "Lan Zhan, you –"
"A-Yi's bath is ready," Lan Zhan says, and meets Wei Ying's eyes in the way that means I do not want this conversation.
Wei Ying sighs. "Aiya, help me out with her then. You know she won't wake up properly now."
Oh, she'll grow out of that, Jiang Yanli had said with sweetly amused nostalgia when Wei Ying texted her a series of pictures of three-year-old Xinyi sleeping undisturbed through her entire bedtime routine. So far this has not yet proven to be the case.
(Lan Zhan occasionally points out that Wei Ying has also slept through both bedtime and morning routines on more than one occasion. Wei Ying maintains there were extenuating circumstances involved in all those experiences.)
It's quiet, in the bathroom. Wei Ying holds Xinyi (damp, clean, and very much asleep) in his lap wrapped in a fluffy towel while Lan Zhan carefully detangles her loose curls and works protective product into them before braiding her hair gently back from her face.
"Lan Zhan," Wei Ying says again, very quietly. "Is your knee hurting again?"
Lan Zhan doesn't answer.
It's not – there was never an injury, not really. As far as Wei Ying knows, Lan Zhan's been lucky enough to avoid anything more serious than a sprain his entire career. It's just –
– well, it's just almost three decades of what they do every day.
"Wen Qing is retiring," says Lan Zhan, low and quiet and not looking up from Xinyi's hair.
Wei Ying blinks. "Did she tell you?"
Lan Zhan shakes his head minutely, just once. "Someone is. You know who." He pauses. The bathroom is very quiet. "Anyone else, you would have told me."
"Yeah," Wei Ying whispers after a moment.
The silence this time feels heavier than before.
"Lan Zhan," Wei Ying tries, and then Lan Zhan gathers Xinyi carefully up from his lap and carries her out towards her bedroom.
Wei Ying sits on the bathroom floor alone for a very long time.
*
The next day is one of Wen Ning's hockey games. Wen Qing picks the three of them up in her car – Lan Zhan folds himself between Xinyi and Meixiu's bulky car seats and leaves the front passenger seat to Wei Ying – and drives for almost two hours to a smallish rink Wei Ying's actually never been to before.
They step out into a summer-warm car park and Wen Qing pulls blankets and coats from the boot of the car while Xinyi climbs impatiently onto Lan Zhan's shoulders and Meixiu stands still with one hand on the door of the car exactly as Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing have taught her to wait during faffing around in a car park time. In all honesty, Wei Ying thinks it's a little weird – but considering he and Lan Zhan had needed a child leash to get through Xinyi's toddler phase, he's in no particular position to judge.
Going anywhere with kids, Wei Ying reflects as Wen Qing dumps four blankets into his arms and Xinyi leans across from Lan Zhan's shoulders to do something unnecessary and uncomfortable with his hair, is somewhat different to travelling alone.
(Wei Ying loves it.)
He re-dumps the blankets on the roof of the car and swings Xinyi off Lan Zhan's shoulders in a wide arc to dangle upside down – she shrieks in delight, arms outstretched to fly with it, and Meixiu watches with something that's clearly supposed to be indifference but comes across far closer to jealousy.
"Wen Qing," he calls, laughing, and nods in Meixiu's direction with a grin.
Wen Qing, with several puffy coats under one arm and a bag of food in the other hand, looks at him with a distinctly unimpressed expression. And then –
Then her lips press together in reluctant half-suppressed amusement, and she dumps everything in her arms on the floor before scooping Meixiu up to dangle face-to-face with Xinyi as Wei Ying holds her by the ankles.
"Do you think," she says conversationally, "that if we kept them like this for long enough, they'd learn to skate this way up as well?"
Meixiu giggles, halfway to an outright shriek of laughter. "No! Put me down!"
"I would!" yells Xinyi, back arched as she reaches with outstretched hands for the ground. Wei Ying lifts her a little higher to keep her fingertips from it. "Let me put skates on my hands!"
"Hmm," says Wei Ying. "It might decrease your program component score."
"Level features," says Lan Zhan opaquely, and Wei Ying laughs in delight.
"Of course! Yang-er keeps getting his spins called as level three rather than four, I'll suggest it to him tomorrow –"
"Jiujiu!!" shouts Meixiu loud enough to make Wei Ying wince, and Wen Qing sets her back on her feet in time for her to barrel into Wen Ning as he arrives with an enormous wheeled bag sagging behind him.
"Ning-gege!" yells Xinyi, wiggling around upside down until Wei Ying flips her upright again. "I played hockey for three hours last night!"
Wen Ning smiles. "So did I. That's good practice, well done."
"Yes," says Wei Ying, "and then you fell asleep in the car and me and your Diedie had to give you a bath while you were snoring."
"I don't snore!! Ning-gege, do I snore?!"
Wen Ning gives this question serious consideration while redoing Meixiu's wayward ponytail.
"Last time I drove you home from hockey you snored a little bit," he says eventually. Xinyi looks stricken; eyes wide and mouth open in outraged betrayal.
Meixiu sticks her tongue out and says loftily, "I have never snored in my life."
Wen Qing holds up one finger as she digs her phone out of her pocket with the other hand.
The video is very cute. Meixiu, as the six-month-old subject of it, does not think it is very cute at all.
"I should go inside," says Wen Ning once the hilarity and outrage has died down. "I think most of the good seats will still be free if you come in?"
Wei Ying picks up Xinyi like a sack of potatoes as Meixiu sensibly helps Wen Qing with the coats and bags.
Halfway across the car park, he abruptly turns back.
"No need," says Lan Zhan. Wei Ying finally notices the armful of blankets – dumped on the car roof and entirely forgotten – now tucked neatly under Lan Zhan's arm like a simple unremarkable fact.
"Ah, Lan Zhan," he says lightly. "So good to me."
He knows it's irrational to be annoyed by it. He knows that forgetting something on the roof of a car is common enough – normal enough – that almost every sitcom drama or stand-up show has some kind of bit about it at some point. He knows it doesn't mean anything.
He knows that Lan Zhan noticing, picking up the blankets himself without a word, knowing what Wei Ying was turning back for before he even said it – he knows the annoyance he feels at this habitual familiarity with his flaws is actually all for himself.
None of it is Lan Zhan's fault.
He knows he's lucky, that seven years later this is almost all that remains. Most of the time he doesn't think about it.
Lan Zhan can tell. Lan Zhan can always tell. The hand that isn't occupied with blankets rests warm and grounding at the small of Wei Ying's back; he makes himself relax into it, deliberately chooses comfort over irritated withdrawal. It's the habit of half his adult life, now – most of the time it doesn't even need the conscious decision.
Today, for whatever reason, it does.
*
"Wei Ying," says Lan Zhan a little later, quiet under the sounds of the rink.
It's not the same soundscape Wei Ying's used to. He understands, since he's been watching Wen Ning more often, why Jin Zixuan doesn't mind coming to patch sessions and competitions – this isn't anything like Wei Ying's world really. The ice is the same, the chill of the air familiar – but that's where it ends. The pitch of the crowd is off, the clipped ice-echo sounds are of an entirely different set, even the taste of the air in his mouth – beyond the familiar chill, it's not the same at all. A rink wound up tight for a hockey game smells different.
"Mm," he says eventually in response. He leans against Lan Zhan, into the warmth of his strong arm around him under the blanket they share. Xinyi and Meixiu are standing side-by-side in front of their seats, little hands tight on the plastic backs of the empty seats in front of them as they lean forward for a better view. Wen Qing's draped a blanket around them both; it's half slipped off Xinyi's shoulders already.
Wei Ying smiles. He never used to feel the cold at her age either.
"Tell me," says Lan Zhan, low and quiet, and Wei Ying sighs.
"I don't know," he admits. "Lan Zhan. I don't know."
(He does, a little bit.)
(He doesn't want to.)
It's half an hour before either of them speak again.
"Have you thought about it," Wei Ying says, softly enough beneath the noise of the crowd that Lan Zhan can pretend he hasn't heard if he chooses.
"No," says Lan Zhan, and it's the kind of no that has a silent postscript.
No, because I won't.
All at once, Wei Ying figures it out.
"Lan Zhan," he says, so gently. There's something brimming over in his chest, a kind of aching tenderness that washes clean the tight-strung unease of the past days – weeks, if he's honest – and leaves all the love he's ever felt fresh and tender and exposed like the first day he recognised it for what it was.
Lan Zhan doesn't look at him.
Wei Ying finds Lan Zhan's hand under the blanket, wraps it close and safe in both his own, traces soft circles over warm skin with his fingertips.
"Lan Zhan," he murmurs again, "ah, Lan Zhan." He shifts a little closer, leans his head on Lan Zhan's shoulder to press them together in a familiar line of warmth.
"I know," he says softly, and feels the tension in Lan Zhan pull a little tighter – before releasing ever so slightly, like a confession, like resignation and understanding and a wordless yes, you know.
This is what Wei Ying knows: Lan Zhan, in all his twenty-eight years of skating, has never spent longer than three weeks off the ice. In twenty-four years of competing, he's never missed a season. He's barely missed a single event – only one, as far as Wei Ying can recall – and most importantly of all, he's never been forced to step back.
He's never had the decision made for him.
He's never had to face his own limits.
Wei Ying wiggles closer still, winds his arms around Lan Zhan's waist, and buries his face in one firm shoulder in the exact cuddle me, Lan Zhan way he knows will result in Lan Zhan being forced to drop everything else in his mind in favour of holding Wei Ying close and safe and comforted with the all the serious dedication of mapping out a complex new step sequence.
Lan Zhan doesn't always like to be comforted directly. Something about the direct attention on his own emotions – he gets tense and quiet and still, and Wei Ying ends up feeling just a little useless and switching to distraction instead. But he's learned, over the years – the action Lan Zhan truly finds comforting, that soothes him and grounds his unease without hovering like a microscope above it, is being allowed to hold and comfort and care for Wei Ying.
(And if it helps Wei Ying to overcome the embarrassment of actually wanting the comfort, to know Lan Zhan needs it too – well, he's often thought they complement each other as well as any two souls could.)
Lan Zhan pulls Wei Ying all the way into his lap to hold him. This is both extremely enjoyable and exactly what Wei Ying intended.
"Lan Zhan," he murmurs, lips breath-close to the skin of Lan Zhan's neck, "do you think A-Yi would like to stay at Qing-jie's for dinner after the game?"
"Mn," says Lan Zhan with soft decisiveness, and presses a gentle kiss just above Wei Ying's ear.
Wei Ying smiles, and turns his face upwards to be kissed properly.
They can talk about it later.
*
They don't talk about it later.
They don't talk about it for a whole week, and then Wen Qing tells the rest of the rink her decision and suddenly it's all anyone seems to know how to talk about.
"I've been thinking lately about focusing more on coaching," Wei Ying overhears Lan Huan say to Lan Qiren with Meng Yao nodding beside him, and he skates away sharp and fast to the sound system to run his short program again.
When he finishes, Nie Huaisang is watching from rinkside with both elbows propped on the barrier and a miserable expression.
"Da-ge wants to leave," he says, entirely unprompted. "I don't know how to skate without someone to pull me around and throw me."
"I," replies Wei Ying, "did not ask."
Huaisang wrinkles his nose. "Stop being an asshole just because you and Lan Zhan have issues about this."
"We do not," says Wei Ying in a perfectly calm tone. "If you want to keep performing but don't want to compete on your own you can do ice shows."
"Wow," drawls Huaisang, "I wonder why it is that you have post-retirement options so close to the top of your mind right now."
Wei Ying smiles tightly, head tilted just a little in the way he knows Huaisang calls creepy as fuck. "Maybe I'm just better at coming up with solutions to your problems than you are."
Huaisang pulls a face. "Someone has to be. Hey, you should look up the pathway to getting on the ISU technical panels as a specialist."
"I'm a coach, Huaisang. I don't need to come up with anything else if I –"
Yeah, no, he can't actually say it. Not yet.
(Maybe not ever.)
"I didn't mean you," says Huaisang with deep exasperation, as though Wei Ying is the stupidest person he has ever spoken to in his life. "Everyone knows what you'll be doing for ever and ever and ever, you're so good at it it's embarrassing. You're not the one who –"
"I get it," says Wei Ying with one eyebrow raised. "You can get lost now."
"You're welcome," says Huaisang dramatically. "Excuse me while I cry about the impending uncontrollable changes in my life, because I am well-adjusted enough to express my own emotions in healthy and appropriate ways."
"Who called you well-adjusted?" Wei Ying calls after him as he leaves. "I think they need psychiatric evaluation."
"Rude!"
Wei Ying leans across the barrier to call out another response – and then forgets entirely what he'd intended to say, because from the other side of the rink comes an ear-splitting shriek of excitement followed by all the juniors (no, Wei Ying is never going to stop calling them that) talking very loudly and excitedly over one another at once.
"Was that –"
"Oh my god, Jingyi –"
"No, I think it was under –"
"Let me see the video!!"
"For fuck's sake, put it in slow-motion already –"
"There –"
"Wait, play it again –"
"– no, zoom in –"
"No, see, look, it's –"
And then – as Wei Ying expected – the sound of six simultaneous (and loud) groans of frustration and disappointment.
Wei Ying smiles to himself. Underrotation is hard to pick out on a quad axel without video footage. It's a good thing Sizhui's so dedicated to keeping their summer challenge viewers updated.
"Hey, Lan Zhan," he says casually as he drifts across the ice towards the others, "did you catch the underrotation on that?"
Lan Zhan looks at him with what would have been a questioningly raised eyebrow on anyone else. "Mn."
"Ah, I was just wondering." Wei Ying grins as he reaches for Lan Zhan's hands and tangles their gloved fingers together. "Lan-er-gege has such a precise eye for detail."
Lan Zhan's expression continues to contain a question. Wei Ying smiles in the way that means no answer for you and pulls Lan Zhan's hands to his waist in the way that means throw me.
The rest of the day is made up of a long string of deliberate distractions. They don't need to think about it right now.
It's a fork in the road, thinks Wei Ying as he stretches out into the tightly arched position of the latest overhead lift they've mastered and trusts Lan Zhan with his weight as they fly across the ice together. It's a fork in the road – but they don't have to choose a path just yet.
There's still a little time.