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They hear about Lan Zhan’s concussion from Jin Zixuan, of all people.
Frowning—they’re only talking on the phone, they can’t see him, but Wei Ying can hear the downturn of his lips anyway—Jin Zixuan asks, “What do you mean you didn’t know, aren’t you two dating him?”
“Great question,” Jiang Cheng mumbles, already beginning to gather their things. “Where’s he at, which hospital?”
“He… he was taken home already. It happened a few days ago. You seriously didn’t know?”
“He must’ve forgotten to tell us,” Wei Ying says brightly, hoping it comes off more like a joke than the immense worry he’s actually feeling. “He’s doing okay, right?”
“Actually, he probably did. Lan Huan said he’s lost a lot of memories from the past few years.”
“Oh,” Wei Ying says, sharing a frantic look with Jiang Cheng. They only met Lan Zhan for the first time last year, does that mean he doesn’t remember them? “Well—okay, other than that he’s fine?”
“Yeah, he had some scrapes but they’ve already healed up. He—oh, A’Li’s home, I’ve got to go.”
“Tell A’Jie I say hi,” Jiang Cheng says, coming closer with his phone and sunglasses in hand.
Jin Zixuan hums and hangs up. Wei Ying flings his phone away from him at once like it might get the peacock germs and/or bad news off of him, but then he hurries after it, tempted to call someone else, a man he only spoke to once or twice. Lan Huan never seemed to like him much but surely they can put that aside for Lan Zhan’s health, right?
Jiang Cheng presses himself against Wei Ying’s side, shoulders bumping together. “We’re going to see him, right?”
“Of course we are.” Wei Wuxian forgets calling Lan Huan for now. He’s probably home anyway, it’s probably not safe for Lan Zhan to be going around doing whatever with a concussion and Lan Huan would never leave him home alone in his time of need. “Shit, where are the keys?”
Jiang Cheng raises a hand, the keys to his fancy SUV dangling from one finger.
“You’re a godsend,” Wei Ying praises as he always does, kissing him quickly and snatching the keys off his finger before he can protest. “Let’s go!”
Lan Huan does not look pleased when he opens up his door. In fact, he only opens it enough so they can see him, not enough to let them in or anything.
“What are you doing here?” He smiles, but Wei Ying is familiar enough with Lan facial expressions and tones of voice to know he’s pissed.
“We heard Lan Zhan got hurt,” Jiang Cheng says, always better at handling situations like this. “We just wanted to see him, make sure he’s okay.”
“I’m taking care of him just fine,” Lan Huan says tightly. “Thank you for your concern but he’s perfectly alright.”
“Can we just say hi then?” Wei Ying asks, nervous energy filling his whole body. “Just for a minute! Then we’ll get out of your hair.”
Lan Huan sighs. “I don’t think he would be interested in hearing from his exes.”
Wei Ying pretends that doesn’t shoot him right through the heart, slinging an arm around Jiang Cheng’s waist as his partner tenses up. Is that what Lan Zhan had called them? Is that what he told his brother? That they’d broken up, or they’d dumped him? Lan Zhan isn’t supposed to be their ex—they only talked about taking a break, and it was Lan Zhan’s idea in the first place anyway, so how could he tell Lan Huan they’re his exes?
(“This is not what I thought it would be,” Lan Zhan had said, looking desperately sad. His eyes flicked from Wei Ying to Jiang Cheng and back. Nonsensically, he said, “I cannot do this if I cannot have all of you.”
“You have all of us,” Jiang Cheng argued. “You’re the one who won’t—“
“I love you both. That’s the problem. I need to leave.”
“Lan Zhan, what are you talking about?” Wei Ying begged. “How can that be a problem?”
Lan Zhan avoided their eyes. “I want both of you. Don't you understand?”
“Then have us!” Jiang Cheng shouted, but it was too late. Lan Zhan was already walking out the door.)
Eye twitching, Wei Ying says, “I guess that makes sense. But please, we’re really worried about him, don’t you think we could just talk to him for a minute? We don’t even really know what happened.”
“Jin Zixuan said something about a night hunt,” Jiang Cheng adds. “Did he go on one alone? How did he get hurt?”
“You are both very concerned, I see,” Lan Huan says, and it’s not a compliment.
“No one’s telling us anything! That’s why we want to speak to Lan Zhan.”
“I understand, but—“
“Xiongzhang?” Lan Zhan’s voice calls. Jiang Cheng shifts under Wei Ying’s touch, trying to peer past Lan Huan to see him. “Who’s here?”
Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng both let out sighs of relief at the same time. He’s okay enough to be walking around, that has to mean something, right?
Lan Huan reluctantly opens the door wider, letting them glimpse Lan Zhan. He looks—remarkably normal. There’s a few tiny scrapes on his forehead and a hint of a bruise along his cheekbone, but other than that, nothing about him is out of the ordinary. His shoulder-length hair looks clean and soft, his clothes are flowy and fancy but comfortable, and his expression is blank in a way that means he’s in an alright mood. Wei Ying clutches Jiang Cheng to him instinctively, needing something to hold on to.
It says a lot, he thinks, that Jiang Cheng doesn’t even pretend to push him away.
Jiang Cheng straightens his spine as much as humanly possible. He’s the braver one of the two as he meets Lan Zhan’s eyes, asking, “How are you?”
“Fine,” he says neutrally. “Are you… Jiang Cheng?”
Jiang Cheng’s chest heaves, just a little, under Wei Ying’s embrace. “You remember me?”
“We’re in love, aren’t we?”