Chapter Text
“I am going to what?” Wei Ying demanded as he stared at Wen Qing in shock.
Beside him, Wen Ning was sitting in his usual docile manner, completely at odds with his wrestling heel persona, the screaming Ghost General. But even he looked confused by what was being suggested.
“You’re going to be Hanguang Jun’s love interest. He’s going to try and capture you and have you turn face so you can be together,” Wen Qing explained, completely unfazed by Wei Ying’s reaction. “When you’ve stopped having your tantrum, you’ll see it’s an absolutely flawless enemies to lovers trope. You two are perfect for it.”
The Wen siblings were from a famous wrestling family. Their uncle, Wen Ruohan, ran Nightless City Pro Wrestling, but these days his only role seemed to be delegation and keeping the money close to his chest. His horrible son, Wen Chao, pranced around as a face and was the company’s ace. He was, in Wei Ying’s opinion, the worst face he’d ever known. He was a genuinely rude and unpleasant person who couldn’t hide his personality in the ring. But a face is what Wen Chao wanted to be, so he stomped his nepotism-funded shiny-booted foot, and daddy’s money paved his way for success. He spent a small fortune on his gear, had the flashiest production, but couldn't cure his obnoxious attitude.
Wen Qing, on the other hand, was the opposite. She was smart, fair, a real businesswoman, who understood wrestling like no other. She was the head of the writing department, and had her eyes on everything. She was unassuming in appearance, but quietly she pulled all the strings. Providing she kept the money pouring in, Wen Ruohan was happy to sit back and enjoy her hard work. It also hugely benefitted Wei Ying to have such a friend, until she lost her mind and made crazy suggestions like this one.
“Now hold on. I’ve spent a whole year on my heel turn and I’m damn good at it,” Wei Ying said, cutting through this insanity with some sense. “Now you want me to turn face? You must be joking. Besides, what is the Ghost General supposed to do? Third wheel my dates? Watch while we hold hands in the ring and skip into the sunset?”
“No, you’re going to stay a heel. But you’re going to focus all your attention on Hanguang Jun. Try and seduce him over to your side,” she explained, still showing no sign of being rattled by his reluctance. “The Ghost General will continue as he is, since this storyline doesn’t drastically alter his. He continues to do your bidding at your side. You may call him a third wheel if you wish, it adds to the chaos.”
Wei Ying felt the word seduce rattle around him like the echo of a bell. It seemed to linger. Seduce Hanguang Jun? He wouldn’t dare. He couldn’t. Hanguang Jun’s reputation was of a true hero, an untouchable honourable man, who would wipe the earth clean of the scourge of the Yiling Laozu. Who would believe Hanguang Jun, a well-loved face would want to sully himself like this? It would make more sense for the fans to create a romance between Hanguang Jun and the rule book.
“Seduce him? Have you met him? He’s like a block of ice. A very nicely-carved block of ice, but he wouldn’t be melting for me,” Wei Ying said firmly. “As if anyone is going to believe this—his whole purpose in life is to keep everyone else on the straight and narrow. He wouldn’t run away with the Yiling Laozu!”
“Right!” Wen Qing agreed, nodding as if he had finally caught up with her. “He’s trying to bring you back to the light so he can save you. It isn’t just us writers who invented this, Wei Ying—it’s all over the fan sites. You know we’d be throwing money away if we ignored something like this. Besides, we made you sexy for a reason.”
“Sexy?” Wei Ying asked, genuinely shocked. “I was trying to look evil.”
“You don’t look very evil here,” Wen Qing said, handing him her phone. “Care to explain this? Because this is what started it.”
It was a photo, snapped backstage, and loaded to the weekly news fan page. It was Wei Ying walking towards Lan Zhan in the corridor. He’d been reaching out to steal Lan Zhan’s water bottle from his hands, intending to squeeze it and make a mess. He’d been seeking a reaction, because if he didn't push for one, then Lan Zhan would simply walk past him and say nothing.
This wasn’t kayfabe—this was just Wei Ying being Wei Ying. Because if he didn’t wind Lan Zhan up backstage, then he was ignored. In the ring, Lan Zhan would engage with him, but outside of kayfabe, there was nothing.
Only the photo didn’t show Lan Zhan’s annoyance, but rather he seemed amused. The bottle was held suspended between them, their hands touching as Wei Ying pulled it from his grip. In the photo, Wei Ying was no longer stealing it from him. Instead, it looked as if Lan Zhan were offering him the water. It looked kind, sweet, like something Lan Zhan would do, even for his enemy.
Wei Ying looked at his own face. He looked awed, eyes full of the magnificence of Lan Zhan. Did he really look at Lan Zhan like that?
But here lay the problem: they were both in costume. Crossing paths in the corridor had been by chance and not design. So was this kayfabe, or was this real? No wonder the writers had seized this one, and the fans had run away with it. Wei Ying had dug his own grave here.
“The devil worship is a hard sell when it comes to romance with Hanguang Jun. He’s probably not keen on the devil girls either,” Wen Qing said, taking her phone back. “Maybe tone down the human sacrifice too.”
“It’s…not devil worship. It’s…necromancy,” Wen Ning reminded her. He’d been looking over Wei Ying’s shoulder at the picture but apparently didn’t care to offer an opinion on that. His sister getting their act wrong, however, was apparently more pressing.
“Yeah, you ought to know that—you wrote it!” Wei Ying told her, annoyed. “The Ghost General is dead and I reanimated him. I didn’t travel down into hell to collect him. I literally control him with my dizi every match and I haven’t sacrificed anyone, although you’re tempting me right now.”
Wen Ning nodded in agreement. Their joint finishing move was supposed to unlock some extra undead powers within him and allow him to attack their opponent with more force. Of course it did no such thing, but the special effects were fun. Currently they were in the process of creating something new called the Yin Tiger Tally, which essentially would do the same, but everyone loved a new prop.
“They’re ghost brides,” Wen Ning added.
“That’s right. They’re not devil women, they’re ghost brides. The reanimated corpses of beautiful women to serve me,” Wei Ying continued, exasperated. “How did you forget this?”
“You know I left the details up to a-Ning,” Wen Qing said, not looking too bothered by her loss of memory. “My input was finding you and paving the way.”
Well, that was true. He couldn’t necessarily expect Wen Qing to remember everything, she was a busy woman. Wen Ning was the one who had come up with the premise after all. Fierce corpses and necromancy was not Wen Qing’s specialist subject.
“Was that picture posted on purpose? For this romance story?” Wei Ying asked, narrowing his eyes. That was the sort of sneaky thing she would do and then deny all knowledge of.
“You were the one staring up at Lan Zhan with big doe eyes. Not me. I didn’t tell you to do it,” Wen Qing said. “Was the sun shining from him, Yiling Laozu? Are you dazzled? Are you in love already?”
“I wasn’t looking at him like that!” Wei Ying protested. “Lan Zhan only pays attention to me when I piss him off. Otherwise he won't even look at me. Just walks past with that polite little nod he does and doesn't speak.”
“Really? Sounds like you've thought about him a lot…” Wen Qing mused. Her stone cold face always unsettled Wei Ying when she poked fun at him. It always pressed his buttons. “Sure there isn’t something going on already?”
“No!” Wei Ying denied quickly. “He clearly hates me with his whole being. Which is why winding him up is so fun.”
“Well, whatever you were doing, it looked as if he liked it. Besides, it’s what the fans are saying, and fan interaction is important. So get yourself ready to be extra annoying and extra…” she waved her hand in the air before Wei Ying.
“Extra what?”
“Extra seductive? And evade the good and mighty clutches of Hanguang Jun, so that he doesn’t take you back to his home to imprison you…and other things.”
Wei Ying folded his arms in a sulk. This was going to be the biggest plot line of his career. Bigger than anything he’d ever done with Jiang Cheng, back when he was a face, and one of the Yunmeng Heroes. But it wasn’t how he’d imagined he’d get there, riding on the back of this weird romance.
“You’re all crazy,” Wei Ying muttered.
“Who is seducing who?” Wen Ning asked suddenly, interrupting Wei Ying’s self pity.
“Pardon?” Wen Qing asked, clearly surprised by the question.
Both of them looked at Wen Ning, who in turn looked back with his wide and rather innocent eyes. Wei Ying couldn’t understand how someone who looked so innocuous could inspire genuine fear when he got into costume. Then again, apparently Hanguang Jun was in love with the Yiling Laozu, so costumes apparently did a lot.
“I said. Who…who is seducing who?” Wen Ning repeated. “It’s unclear...The Yiling Laozu is in love too?”
“Yeah,” Wei Ying chipped in. “Who is seducing who here? Hanguang Jun wants to drag me home to imprison me and make me give up my demonic ways. But why? Why don’t we just fuck each other without all the drama? He goes home to his little Cloud Recesses gym after, and I skip home to the Burial Mounds. Job done.”
“The scripts will have to play themselves out, but for now, you’re just trying to lead him astray. If Hanguang Jun admits to being in love with you, then he will fall from grace,” Wen Qing explained. “So he has to suffer until you realise your feelings.”
Wei Ying rolled his eyes. So he had to seduce Hanguang Jun? Well, it wasn’t an unpleasant prospect, and it would mean they would probably spend much more time together because of it. More fights, and more time backstage. Maybe. But there was no way Lan Zhan would like this. His general indifference to Wei Ying whenever they were alone spoke volumes.
“Alright, fine,” Wei Ying said. “But I want you to put on record somewhere that I think this is complete insanity.”
“Noted,” Wen Qing said, clearly with no intention of recording anything.
The new storyline was to begin immediately, but it was still a shock when he was informed he’d be interviewed that afternoon and was to begin his taunting of Hanguang Jun. He’d felt jittery planning his promos, but in the end, the words flew out of his mouth easily.
“The Yiling Laozu and Ghost General have been consistently winning, are you planning to relieve them of their belts?” Nie Mingjue asked, before handing the microphone to Wei Ying.
Ordinarily Wei Ying would mess with these interviewers, but Nie Mingjue was something of an idol of his, and so he held his attitude at bay. The former wrestling champion wasn’t an easy one to rattle anyway, which was probably the in-joke somewhere. Have someone scarier than the average wrestler to keep the peace backstage.
“You’ve heard the rumours,” Wei Ying replied, turning to the camera with exaggerated expression. “They’re saying Hanguang Jun is tired of the Yiling Laozu creating havoc wherever he goes and is on a mission to return him to the right path. I say he’s trying to return me to boredom! He wants me to live a life of misery?”
“I’ve heard another rumour,” Nie Mingjue prompted, as the microphone was handed back to him. “That you’d rather bring him to the Burial Mounds. Planning something nefarious?”
Wei Ying smirked.
“I wouldn’t mind,” he replied, pausing as if considering this idea. “Fair is fair. Hanguang Jun wants to drag me to the Cloud Recesses and lock me up. I think he’s far too thrilled by this idea—his icy blood is finally warming up and he’s excited.”
Wei Ying smirked at his own joke, feeling energised as he turned to the camera. He felt buzzed on the idea of Lan Zhan being frustrated with him.
“I say, what are you planning to do to me, Hanguang Jun? Something against the Cloud Recesses rules no doubt, something no one else is allowed to see? You seem to know far too much about banned moves—are you planning to use them on me? Or, are you planning to take me somewhere private and create some new ones?”
He handed the microphone back to Nie Mingjue, feeling pleased with himself.
“You’re not afraid of a fight? The Twin Jades are undefeated,” Nie Mingjue asked.
“Hanguang Jun will meet me in the ring if I call. Then we’ll see who is dragging who home.”
The crowd was hyped. This fight had been long awaited, and calls for it had grown and grown, helped along by the photo of romantic intrigue, built up by weeks of back and forth promo cuts and interviews. The tickets had sold out fast, with fans snapping them up eagerly, and expectations were high.
Wen Qing had been working behind the scenes to make their act meet the new anticipated standard. The Lans had no issues here—they were their act. The crowd wanted to see them, and in many ways, less was more. For a heel however, if their entry into the ring wasn't grand and showy, full of bluster and threats of violence, then disappointment would trail after them. The crowd wanted unexpected drama and rule-breaking.
Wei Ying was not afraid of the show. Standing in the spotlight whilst everyone screamed and booed was an experience like no other. To play the villain gave such freedom and such a high that it was hard to return to reality after. He loved it, and he wasn’t the only one.
Wen Ning was bouncing on the balls of his feet, ready to run in, ready to fight, scream, and lose control. His undead appearance was something of a marvel to Wei Ying, and occasionally, it caught him off guard if he saw him from the corner of his eye. It was unnerving, like a genuine nightmare. The eerie contacts, the pale skin, and the dark tracking veins up his face made him a horror. Added to his wild hair and the clanking chains, the overall look was a testament to his friend’s incredible artistry skills.
In contrast, Wei Ying considered that maybe Wen Qing had been right. He was dressed like he was hoping to take someone home tonight. Maybe it was something about the dark kohl smudged around his eyes that gave him added allure. The red ribbon in his hair today, tied up high, was suggestive enough, and just begging to be grabbed and pulled. He bit his lip, pulling colour into them, and wondered what Lan Zhan was feeling right now.
Nothing probably. He was a professional, and this was his job.
“Ready for this?” Wei Ying asked.
“Yes,” Wen Ning replied. “You?”
Wei Ying shrugged.
“Guess I’m about to find out,” he said, looking to the side where a crew member was holding his hand up to him. Then, the hand became a thumbs up, and he strolled out with his heart racing.
Wei Ying’s entrance music began to play. The lights dimmed, turned red, and fire shot over his head. Inwardly impressed at his own show, Wei Ying made a note to thank Wen Qing for the new pyrotechnics later. Clearly his star was rising if he was getting the good special effects. Behind him, his ghost girls drifted out looking as stunning as always, cooing around him, fanning him, smoothing his hair. Wei Ying let them finish then spun his dizi in his fingers as he stood casually, soaking in the roar of the audience.
With the same air of indifference, he made his way down to the ring before jumping up with practiced ease. He put the dizi back into his belt, ignoring the continued screaming of the crowd, and grabbed the microphone being held up for him.
“Hanguang Jun! Zewu Jun!” Wei Ying shouted. “As expected, neither of you are even here! What’s the matter? Too busy standing around, admiring your muscles? Or are you trying to recruit more members to the Cloud Recesses?”
The crowd booed him, and his confidence soared with the reaction. He grinned and kept the show going.
“I came all this way, Hanguang Jun, all the way from the Burial Mounds to find you. But it seems you’re too busy pumping iron in your white-walled, stuck-up, high-class gym! What’s the matter? Scared I’ll touch you? Scared you’ll be tainted by resentful energy and demonic cultivation? Or scared you’re going to like it?”
Wei Ying strutted back and forth for a while, drinking in the noise. The butterflies in his stomach multiplied at the thought of seeing Lan Zhan as he waited. Fighting Lan Zhan was the pinnacle as far as he was concerned. No one else had ever come close. As rookies, they’d been well matched. Lan Zhan had understood his mind, he could anticipate the moves Wei Ying wanted to do. He still could, even though their opportunities to go toe to toe in the past few years had been few.
“Hanguang Jun, won't you invite me to your gym? What’s the matter? Don’t you want me?” Wei Ying teased. “I think someone is shy.”
The crowd was riled up now. The flirty tone of his taunting was impossible to ignore. He waited. He knew any moment, Lan Zhan would appear, and his heart was racing. He felt inexplicably nervous yet exhilarated beyond anything he’d experienced before.
Then as the crowd began to settle, the arena lights suddenly brightened. The colours turned from red to white. The screens lit up with the images of the Twin Jades. Wei Ying watched as Hanguang Jun and Zewu Jun appeared. Wei Ying’s eyes focused on Lan Zhan, unable to look away from him, the smile on his face bright, and genuine. He couldn’t hide how much he was looking forward to this fight.
Behind them came a couple of younger wrestlers. They were little baby faces, spat out of the same training gym as the Lan brothers. They looked like mini Twin Jades, and they stood arms crossed in judgement.
“The Cloud Recesses will accept your surrender,” Zewu Jun said into his own microphone as they stood at the top of the ramp. “You would be sheltered from your misdeeds if you returned with my brother.”
Wei Ying grinned. Alright, nice, the banter begins. He looked to Lan Zhan, who steadily returned his gaze. He was direct, unfaltering, with nothing hidden. Wei Ying felt the mischief inside him building. He took out the dizi from his belt and tapped it against his palm.
Lan Zhan didn’t move. It was like the scariest game of chicken Wei Ying had ever played, and he was not particularly knowledgeable when it came to being a tease. Not in this way at least. Flirting was one thing, he could do that. But this was flirting for a purpose. It needed to go somewhere, result in something. That something remained mysterious to Wei Ying. How far should this go? Then his heart leapt as the Twin Jades began walking towards him, and Lan Zhan climbed up into the ring.
Wei Ying noticed he’d picked up a microphone and his heart rate increased. He moved forward to touch Lan Zhan, only for him to grab his wrist hard, and pull him close. There was a stunned moment where they both stared at each other before Wei Ying twisted himself free. He slid around Lan Zhan, and then blew a sharp puff of air into his ear. Lan Zhan flinched instinctively.
“Your tactics are dishonest,” Lan Zhan told him. “You will soon run out of track on this dark path you're on.”
Wei Ying raised an eyebrow.
“Hey Hanguang Jun, let me tell you a secret,” he said, leaning in as if to whisper into his ear. Instead, he bit his earlobe. It was a nip, but the tip of his tongue touched Lan Zhan’s skin, and it felt like a lightning bolt down Wei Ying’s back.
The shock was heightened by the collective screaming from the audience, which seemed to burst in his ears as Lan Zhan pushed him back. Wei Ying stumbled back but managed to right himself before he fell.
“You taste far too sweet to be so mean, Hanguang Jun!” he said, heading for the corner post. “Ghost General!” he shouted as he jumped up.
Wen Ning’s entrance was fun. Wei Ying loved to be in the arena to watch it. The warning for strobe lighting wasn’t to be taken casually, because the lights around them began to flicker rapidly. It gave Wen Ning an even more unnaturally creepy appearance, before the lights went out so he could disappear into the crowd. When the lights came up, he’d positioned himself behind a young woman. She turned, spotted him, and let out a genuine scream.
Wen Ning leapt away and then stopped. He turned in an unnatural way, ran to the ring, jumped the ropes and lifted his hands up before screaming. Then he stood eerily motionless, ready to spring in any direction. There was an anxious silence in the arena now as people waited to see what would happen next.
“Ghost General, I need a new recruit for our cause,” Wei Ying said casually, jumping down from the post and draping his arm around Wen Ning’s shoulders. “But I’ll offer the place first to Hanguang Jun.”
“Never, Yiling Laozu,” Lan Zhan replied.
“Never, huh? We’ll see about that. Ghost General, fetch me someone who is more willing. Someone who can’t say no.”
A canopy of noise erupted as Wen Ning jumped back out of the ring, with many people suddenly shouting and offering themselves. Men and women waved at Wei Ying, shouting, “Take me, take me!” The volume of noise became laughter as people enjoyed the confusion and chaos a heel brought to the arena. Then finally, Wen Ning reappeared, strolling back with a baby.
Wei Ying jumped down and took the baby from Wen Ning. She was wearing infant ear defenders and squalling at the top of her lungs.
“Give that child to me. She doesn’t like your face,” Wei Ying said.
He hadn’t meant for the kid to be upset. This was Mianmian’s baby, who spent a lot of time with the Wen siblings. Usually, the little girl loved Wen Ning. She was a year old and certainly knew who he was. However, she clearly didn’t love him when he looked like the undead. Thankfully, she apparently recognised Wei Ying and immediately stopped crying as he held her.
“Yiling Laozu,” Hanguang Jun said, standing alone in the ring in all his perfectly sculptured glory. To add to his overall magnificence, the lights seemed to create some sort of halo haze around him. “Put that child down.”
“No! This is my child now,” Wei Ying said, expertly holding her close to his chest. She made a grab for his microphone. “Unless you want to make another one with me?”
It took a little while before that seemed to drop, and a few seconds later, the audience reacted with smattering of boos, but mostly laughter. Wei Ying walked around the ring with the baby, drinking in the attention. The little girl appeared to be having a great time, joyfully shrieking and trying to swipe the red ribbon in his hair. He strutted about, carefully avoiding Zewu Jun, who was still standing with his little entourage. Then he spotted Mianmian waiting for him. He handed her daughter back, then ran for the stage, hopped the ropes and stood ready.
The crowd renewed its enthusiasm for the match, shouting and stamping their feet on the ground. The noise grew and grew, echoing around the arena. Wei Ying looked around at the banners and fan made signs waving in the air. The anticipation seemed to grow to a pitch until finally he raised his microphone again.
“What are you waiting for, Hanguang Jun?” he called.
*
Lan Zhan slammed him down hard. He bounced on the spring of the mat, but his head hit with some force and he lay there dazed, looking up into worried golden eyes. Eyes that had never looked at him like that before. Dizzily, he began to drift away on the confirmation that Lan Zhan was objectively beautiful. Up close he was even more attractive, and especially holding him down. Sweating, panting, looking thoroughly debauched. Wei Ying’s head swam. He could hear the crowd screaming, cheering for Hanguang Jun’s victory.
The match wasn’t over, so why did Lan Zhan still have hold of his leg? Was that necessary? Why was Lan Zhan so warm? Why was he seemingly everywhere, and all over him, and so very, very close? What was happening?
“Wei Ying,” he heard him say. “Keep your eyes open.”
The referee had slid up next to them now, and was slamming his hand on the ground, counting down to defeat. “One, two…”
“Hm?” Wei Ying mumbled. “Are we going home now, Lan Zhan?”
“Look at me,” Lan Zhan demanded, his voice a sharp hiss. “Kick out.”
Kick out, Wei Ying thought. Kick out. The world returned to him in a blink, and he realised his leg was hooked. With practiced reflex, he kicked his other leg, pushing Lan Zhan back and lifting off the mat. The count stopped.
The crowd increased the booing and cheering as he got back to his feet. He gave the tiniest of nods to Lan Zhan, who then shoved him hard and into the ropes. He realised quickly why Lan Zhan had pushed him here, and he held a hand out for Wen Ning to tag him in. Lan Zhan was violently thrown sideways as Wen Ning slammed into him. They both landed with a crash on the mat, the echo booming like thunder to the ears. Wen Ning was back on his feet first, bouncing up like something deranged.
“You can’t…can’t,” Wen Ning stammered as he pointed a finger at Lan Zhan, who had rolled himself to the corner. “...can’t take him with you!”
“The Yiling Laozu must answer for his crimes,” Lan Huan shouted from the Twin Jades’ corner as he ducked under the ropes and into the ring. Lan Zhan had now tagged him in and slid out. It was a smooth switch, and the crowd began cheering again in renewed excitement.
Wei Ying dropped down to the floor too. He looked across the ring. His eyes connected instantly with Lan Zhan’s. The intentional directness of Lan Zhan’s gaze felt intense, and something unknown seemed to shoot straight through Wei Ying, leaving him breathless. The unsettling sensation built, like something had come undone inside him somewhere and was now floating around making a nuance of itself. The hair on the back of his arms and neck stood on end.
It was just an act, right? Pretend? Lan Zhan wasn’t really looking at him like that. It was Hanguang Jun, the wrestler, still in kayfabe. Hanguang Jun was just giving the fans what they wanted. Still, the gravity of that look made Wei Ying feel weak, and for a moment, he forgot where he was.
Wen Ning’s Ghost General scream shook him out of his daze, and he looked up to see the chains on his arms rattling. The clanking special effect sound played dramatically through the event speakers. The lights flickered like lightning, dark, then bright, and strobe lights flashed once again, illuminating everything in little bursts. Wei Ying felt his own adrenaline spike at the sensory overload, and he became a spectator for a moment, watching Wen Ning and Lan Huan grapple with each other.
But all the while, he could feel Lan Zhan’s eyes burning him, still watching, waiting. Unable to ignore it, he looked back, and his heart skipped a beat as Lan Zhan made a step to the side. For a second, he’d thought Lan Zhan might be coming towards him, and with no skit ready to go just yet, he felt suddenly at a disadvantage. So, Wei Ying did the next best thing and ran. He leapt onto the commentary table and snatched a microphone.
It sent the match into chaos, with the camera crew scrambling around to get the shot.
“Looks like the Ghost General is going to wipe the floor with your brother, Hanguang Jun. You can either save him or catch me, but you can’t do both!” he shouted.
Lan Zhan darted forwards, taking the bait. His hand snatched Wei Ying’s ankle and held him tight. Now Wei Ying had no choice but to allow himself to be dragged forwards. He hopped unsteadily towards Lan Zhan until he lost his balance.
“Hey, hey, there are witnesses here, you know. You can’t do this to me. You’re bullying me, you’re a rough lover!”
He did not want to roll or take a fall here. This was totally unscripted, and Wei Ying didn’t know what was going through Lan Zhan’s head. Lan Zhan didn’t ever deviate from the script, never, no matter how much others goaded him, bothered him, bullied him. Never. But suddenly he was acting possessed?
Wei Ying tried to save himself but found he was well and truly caught. He fell forwards, and Lan Zhan caught him and slung him over his shoulder as he walked away.
“Put me down!” Wei Ying shrieked, clinging on to whatever part of Lan Zhan he could get hold of. “I won’t go back to Gusu with you!”
He tried to wriggle out of his hold, but Lan Zhan just kept walking. Without seemingly any effort at all, he climbed back up to the ring and all but threw Wei Ying over the ropes. Wei Ying landed hard, winded for a second, rolling repeatedly for dramatic effect. This entry wasn’t in the script, but the others quickly adapted. Hanguang Jun and the Yiling Laozu were the story today, and if the story wanted to roll around on the floor with each other, then neither Lan Huan or Wen Ning cared to prevent them.
Wei Ying staggered back on his feet, only for Lan Zhan to immediately swipe his leg out from under him. Wei Ying fell to the ground again. Being bullied by Lan Zhan so much was rough, but at least he had his attention! Only Lan Zhan was not going easy on him at all. It felt like they were kids again, knocking ten bells out of each other before old man Qiren dragged him up by his ear and threw him out.
Hanguang Jun, the fair player, stepped away, allowing Wei Ying the chance to get to his feet. He stumbled around a little before running for the ropes. Using the momentum, he bounced out, slid under Lan Zhan’s arm and wrapped his own around his waist. This sent them tumbling to the ground, and Wei Ying was able to climb over Lan Zhan to straddle him. It felt incredibly thrilling to have him under him, and Lan Zhan lay obligingly still and just looked up at Wei Ying with that puzzling expression again. There was absolutely no reason for any of this, since neither of them were tagged in.
Wei Ying's triumph lasted only seconds before Lan Zhan pulled his head back by his hair. The referee started shouting at them to get out of the ring, but Lan Zhan continued to hold him there. Wei Ying could see that Wen Ning had escaped a submission hold, and was heading back for their corner. Lan Zhan let him go and then roughly shoved him away.
Wei Ying rolled to the edge, fell out of the ring then bounced straight back up to be tagged back in by Wen Ning. The Ghost General exited the ring, and Wei Ying leapt up with fresh energy, standing up on the corner post. He held his hand out for another microphone.
“Hanguang Jun, confess, you’d like to walk on this narrow path with me and turn your back on all this bullshit!” he shouted, holding his arms out to signal that the mentioned bullshit was the place they were in. “They keep you tied up here. You’re a perfect piece of ice. But you could come home with me instead, and try to save my soul.”
The Twin Jades had repositioned themselves during his speech. Lan Zhan was tagged back in and now stood looking up at Wei Ying with a somewhat pained expression on his face.
“Demonic cultivation is too unstable, even for you, Yiling Laozu. Come back to Gusu with me and give this up.”
Wei Ying smiled. The mat looked such a long way away from where he was right now, a flight and a fall away. He knew if he jumped, Lan Zhan would catch him and they’d land dramatically. They could knock each other down, struggle to get up, and then Lan Zhan could defeat him as per the script. He could see the thought go through Lan Zhan’s mind as well. His eyes were sharp, and he was waiting.
“What makes you think I trust you? Do you really think you’ll stay on this virtuous path once you get your claws in me? You won’t be able to resist.”
But before he could leap, Wei Ying felt dizziness returning. He looked down at Lan Zhan and saw concern bloom in his eyes. He had to jump, he had to trust him. If he didn’t, he was going to genuinely pass out and fall. With his vision blurry, Wei Ying leapt forward.
The next thing he knew, he was on the ground, Lan Zhan was over him. He had his leg hooked, pulled up over his shoulder. Wei Ying gave him a hazy smile and let Lan Zhan hold him down. The referee was counting, and the audience was cheering, screaming, whistling in a frenzy. He was out, it was over and now Lan Zhan was tying his hands?
Wei Ying didn’t resist as he was picked up like a prize and carried away. Instead, surrendered and let himself drift.
*
Lan Zhan carried him out of the arena and into the relative quiet of backstage. Some of the gathered crew laughed and clapped for them, but Wei Ying just accepted his status as prisoner and let Lan Zhan take him away. But when he was abruptly put down, he realised he’d been rushed into the trainer’s room.
“Well, this is nice,” Wei Ying mumbled as Lan Zhan stepped back. “Maybe I’ll just have you carry me to and from all our matches from now on. My ghost girls wouldn’t be impressed though. Do you want to start each match with a catfight first? I bet they would scratch your eyes out.”
“He lost consciousness,” Lan Zhan said to the trainer, ignoring his rambling. “Possibly twice.”
Wei Ying frowned.
“I did not,” he argued. “I think you just wanted to continue carrying me around.”
“Be quiet, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan told him firmly.
Something about his tone made Wei Ying do as he was told and be silent. The medic began shining a light in his eyes, which immediately blinded him. His blood pressure was then checked, and he was asked a series of orienting questions. He apparently passed his assessment, and was offered some paracetamol and a glass of water. Wei Ying tried to accept it, but realised his hands were still tied up with Hanguang Jun’s forehead ribbon and smiled apologetically. The medic placed it down on a table, and walked away to make some notes.
“Good job you’re here to save me, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said, trying a smile, but getting nothing back for his efforts. “Great acting today by the way. You looked like you really meant it, trying to save my soul and all from the demonic influences. Shame I’m a lost cause and our love is doomed.”
“Hn,” Lan Zhan said, which gave Wei Ying nothing to work with. Was that agreement or indifference?
But instead of asking, Wei Ying just let Lan Zhan untie the ribbon around his wrists. He moved with deliberate and gentle hands, which filled Wei Ying with confusion. The silky fabric slid across Wei Ying’s skin, and he grasped it in his palm when Lan Zhan was done.
“Maybe I’ll keep this,” he said, grinning. “Just as a trophy. Would you like that? Knowing I own a little bit of you?”
“It is just a ribbon,” Lan Zhan said coolly. “Keep it if you want.”
“Oh, I do want to. Because I think it’s annoying you that I’m not giving it back.”
Lan Zhan’s eyes widened a little and then his usual steely expression shuttered. Any openness Wei Ying might have imagined closed off like a slammed door.
“Take these, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said abruptly, picking up the pills and putting them into Wei Ying’s hand. “Thank you for the match.”
“‘Thank you for the match’?” Wei Ying repeated. “Are you just going to leave me here?”
“Did you want me to stay?” Lan Zhan asked.
Wei Ying looked at him, then looked down at the pills in his palm. He did want Lan Zhan to stay, but he couldn’t say why. He didn’t know why. There was nothing wrong with him, he’d just shook his brain around a bit. He wasn’t dying.
“No, you can go,” he said, before putting the pills into his mouth and drinking the water.
Lan Zhan waited until he’d swallowed before moving, but Wei Ying found he couldn’t look him in the eye. It was only when he was walking away that he looked back up. He felt instantly colder now he was gone and sat miserably on the bench until he was also allowed to leave.