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The True Story of How Concubine Mo Deviously Deceived The Entire Imperial Family

Chapter Text

 

It hasn’t even been a day since Wei Wuxian arrived at the Imperial Palace.

He wakes up for the first time in his new rooms in the Silent Wing, pushing himself up with one hand on the bed, and before he has even cracked his eyes open to observe the noon sun in his airy bedroom, he is swarmed by flustered servants and attendants.

“Eh, ah— good morning?” Wei Wuxian tries to stammer, but while he’s still wondering what’s happening, the chief-most maid tasked with serving him ushers him out of the warm soft bed, and to be dressed.

“Good morning, Master Mo!” She replies dutifully, sitting him down at the vanity and starting to brush Mo Xuanyu’s long hair. “Wangye ordered us not to wake you up, so we must hurry so that you’re not late.”

“Late? To what?” Wei Wuxian asks, and he winces when the comb pulls at one of the many tangles in Mo Xuanyu’s hair. “How come there is still something I need to do after passing the test— ouch!”

“Sorry, sorry, Master,” The head maid says, and then she continues demolishing tangles with just as much fervour as before, “Master shall I choose which hair oil to use?”

Wei Wuxian is trying not to let slip his real identity, so he demurs and lowers his eyes like he’s seen the less bold of the women do when he was trying to flirt with them, and he says; “Whatever you believe is appropriate.”

The head maid nods hurriedly and starts applying the oil; something expensive that leaves the taste of orchids at the back of Wei Wuxian’s mouth. Will Wei Wuxian ever be able to pay Lan Wangji back for everything that’s being used on him in the misconception that he’s actually a concubine? It’s getting less likely by the second. Sadly, he’s in no position to protest; especially not if he’s going to continue deceiving everyone.

“There will be an honoured guest arriving today,” The head maid explains to him as she works on arranging his hair, “Master must take care not to offend him or shame Wangye. Master, you know the etiquette of pouring tea right?”

“Yes,” Wei Wuxian smiles, watching through the bronze mirror how the maid combs the hair up into an elaborate hairstyle with too many braids. “No need to worry, I know how to act.”

The head maid lets out a big sigh of relief. “Other than that, there shouldn’t be anything else to do,” She says, “Master just needs to sit to the side silently and look good.”

What a terribly boring job.

But Wei Wuxian is a dedicated actor, and he won’t be the reason Lan Wangji gets accused of harbouring a fugitive. If he’s really going to live on Lan Wangji’s kindness until he can form a proper golden core so he can finally become a rogue cultivator travelling the lands, saving people and never being known by any name, then he needs to make sure his disguise is perfect.

And honestly, it’s kind of funny seeing all these people react to him being such a perfect concubine when he’s also a man.

“Jiejie, of course he knows! Our master is so knowledgeable and accomplished!” A younger maid says cheerfully from the side where she’s choosing out robes and fabrics from Wei Wuxian’s new wardrobe, “Didn't you see how Yu-gonggong boggled when Master Mo recited him the classics! And he’s already memorised more than three thousand of the rules! And he knows calligraphy, and how to sing, and draw, and even play the dizi and erhu! There’s nothing he can’t do!”

Example one right there. The imperial eunuch that arrived immediately to evaluate Wei Wuxian for his new position had been continuously stumped at how Wei Wuxian had been capable of fulfilling everything the old man had thrown at him. He had started giving out increasingly more obscure questions to the point where Lan Wangji was visibly glaring at him.

Wei Wuxian had taken great pleasure in hiding his face behind a sleeve and fluttering his eyelashes as he crushed the questions into pieces.

“Alright, alright,” The head maid says good-naturedly, “You’re happy you got transferred here, we know. Did you finish picking out the robes?”

“Yes, Jiejie!”

For the next hour, Wei Wuxian finds himself feeling less like a human being and more like a life-size doll. He moves with the hands dressing him and closes his eyes for the brushes to pass, lowering his still too tall head to allow the much shorter maids to slide needle-sharp accessories with silver tassels and elegant jade flowers into his hair.

By the end of it, he’s starting to doubt his decision to act like an obedient little concubine. Surely he could have chosen to be the lunatic Mo Xuanyu was rumoured to be? At least lunatics can run around in a single layer of robe if they want. He could have left his hair loose, maybe run around barefoot and kick mud onto the pristine robes of any servant that dared to stop him…

No doubt that the reactions of the people around here would still have been funny.

Ugh. What a waste. Is it too late to change personas? Maybe construct some story; Prince-Concubine Mo Xuanyu who was so terribly treated by his own family, the honourable Hanguang-wang agreed to take him in, but who knew that Mo Xuanyu had already been driven insane! He still rages around the Silent Wing, bullying servants and noblemen alike!

“There! Done,” A maid says, pulling away from Wei Wuxian to stand respectfully at a distance. “Very nice, if I do say so myself.”

Wei Wuxian turns curiously towards the mirror. He’s dressed in silk robes of pastel blue and sea-foam green with enough layers to somehow soften the wideness of his shoulders, its collar high and delicate. His hair is pulled into a ponytail with too many thin braids and loops, and his eyes are lined on the corners with makeup to make them seem long-lashed and almost wistful.

With great effort, Wei Wuxian manages to hold in the snort that tries to escape. Mo Xuanyu’s body looks good like this, but it also looks very much like the servants can only mourn the fact that they can’t actually turn him into a woman. Wei Wuxian lowers his eyes and smiles a small, close-lipped smile in the mirror, and his reflection looks like it wouldn’t be out of place in a drawing of the Heavenly Palace.

Oh, this is hilarious, Wei Wuxian thinks, snickering, Lan Zhan is going to freak out when he sees me.  

“You didn't use the black and red robes Wangye sent?” The head maid asks, and Wei Wuxian blinks, turning his gaze from his reflection and towards the younger maid who’s pulling up a black robe by the collar. It’s cut in a distinctly male design, and it looks athletic and comfortable rather than decorative, something Wei Wuxian might have worn back in his old body for sword training or for a day out.

“They’re too… plain,” The maid grumbles, and Wei Wuxian snickers once again into his hand. “There’s no way Master can wear this and impress Wangye. And they’re too big for Master anyways! They all need to be adjusted! Why did he send these anyways? Is he trying to tell Master to grow taller? Should we consult a physician?”

“A-Xu! What are you saying,” The head maid scolds, “Is the relationship between Master and Wangye something you can comment on? I should send you to be punished!”

The young maid pales and starts bowing rapidly towards Wei Wuxian, and Wei Wuxian just waves it off quietly. “It’s fine, A-Xu, I don’t mind,” He says, and then with fake consideration; “If that’s what Wangye wants, then maybe I should try to grow a few more inches. Do you think I should take these off and go try to stretch myself taller?”

“No!” The head maid cries out with great panic, “Master there’s no time! You have to go serve Wangye and his guest at their lunch!”

“But I haven’t even had breakfast yet,” Wei Wuxian whines, just before he remembers himself. Right. Obedient concubine. Ugh. “Ah, I apologise,” He says, lowering his head in a shallow, elegant bow, “I was only overtaken by my hunger for a moment. I’ll of course serve Wangye first.”                                                      

The maids look sad and distressed now. “Master, maybe I can arrange the kitchens to make some snacks before Wangye’s lunch?” The young maid says, hesitant, “Maybe some fruits at least?”

“There’s no time…” The head maid says, obviously guilty, “Wangye has already headed to the dining hall. The honoured guest should arrive soon as well...”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, don’t concern yourselves with it,” Wei Wuxian says, smiling, “Isn’t it just one skipped meal? I’ve skipped much more than that before!”

Thinking back to it, it had always been Wen Qing who dragged him away from his research when he got in too deep and didn’t feel like stopping to do anything as banal as eating. Wei Wuxian looks at his reflection, feeling a muffled pang of bittersweet nostalgia. How many radishes and potatoes could he have bought with just these trinkets in his hair right now?

Well…

He supposes that it no longer matters, at this point.

“Master...” One of the maids sniffs behind him, sounding despondent.

“Anyways,” Wei Wuxian shakes his head, and the chains and tassels in his hair tinkle when he turns to face the head maid with a smile, “Who’s this honoured guest visiting the Silent Wing? I didn't know Lan-wangye received guests here.”

“…it’s been a little more than five years, I think?” The head maid says, “He’s been visiting so diligently every month that we’ve gotten used to it. It’s presumptuous for a servant to evaluate their masters’ thoughts but if I may be so bold, I do believe Wangye is friends with him.”

Wei Wuxian blinks.

Friends? With Lan Zhan? That Lan Zhan? Wei Wuxian had tried so long and so hard to endear himself to him, to acquire even a smidge of his attention, and even he hasn't once been called friend by Lan Wangji; it has always been “not close”, “not close”.

Wei Wuxian suddenly really wants to know who it is that managed to do what he failed at. “So which great personage could such an important person be?” He asks, widening his eyes as if in innocent curiosity, “As Wangye’s concubine, I should get to know him better shouldn’t I?”

“Yes, yes, Master is correct,” The head maid smiles, as she gestures for the door, “Shall this one tell Master all about it while we head to the dining hall? It is not wise to make Wangye wait.”

Wei Wuxian starts walking in dainty small steps —as he only can in these decorative, restrictive clothes— with the long tresses of his hems dragging behind him. He should probably start considering what he’ll do if he suddenly needs to run or jump. Maybe cut a slit open with one of those unnecessarily sharp hair accessories?

“Master Mo should retain caution while serving today,” The maid says, “It’s only Master’s first day here, and not many of the honoured people will hesitate before taking advantage of Master’s unfamiliarity with the Palace.”

“It’s that bad?” Wei Wuxian asks offhandedly, paying more attention to not ripping his robes as he walks.

“The honoured guest is a connoisseur of the arts, he can easily spot any mistake made in insufficient knowledge, and he’s also a mighty person, the leader of a Great Clan!” The head maid takes in a hesitant breath before saying; “Border General Nie Huaisang really isn’t someone Master can afford to offend.”

Wei Wuxian trips on his trailing hems.

Border General, who???

 


 

The dining hall is just as Wei Wuxian’s room is: lavish and luxurious, but in an understated, airy way. The table sits in front of the raised platform of the head seat, and covered tableware has already been set; one in front of the head seat for Lan Wangji, and one next to him, for the guest. A branch of magnolia blossoms sits in a vase, which makes Wei Wuxian wonder. He hasn’t seen a single magnolia tree since they left the Mo Estate.

The sunlight is still bleak and breezy from the recently-ended winter, but it fills the room in a way that brightens everything. The gauzy curtains flutter in the faint wind.

Then there is Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian enters the room with quiet steps, and he stops near the table where Lan Wangji is serenely drinking a cup of tea. He looks as strikingly beautiful as he ever did back when Wei Wuxian had still been alive, but he’s become even more regal, even more awe-inspiring in his elegant, funeral white robes and tall silver hair crowns. Back when he was yet still a junior prince, he had at least looked approachable. Like this, he’s a jade immortal.

His head maid tugs at Wei Wuxian’s sleeve with great panic, and Wei Wuxian remembers his role.

“Good day,” He calls, bowing with exaggerated humility, and Lan Wangji looks towards him. “This servant greets Wangye.”

There is a silent pause.

Then Lan Wangji drops his teacup.

The servants all freeze for a moment, shocked, before they burst into motion; cleaning the spill, collecting the shards of porcelain, bowing to Lan Wangji as they bring him another cup of tea. And through it all, Lan Wangji is completely still, staring at Wei Wuxian with all the intensity a blazing fire.

Wei Wuxian doesn’t laugh at his reaction, but it’s a near thing. After all, little in life has ever delighted Wei Wuxian the way teasing Lan Wangji does.

“Is Wangye dissatisfied with this servant?” He asks with his sleeve lifted to hide his grin, flicking his eyes downwards as if embarrassed. “Wangye is looking so intently, this servant is embarrassed… Does Wangye not like this servant’s choice of clothing?”

Lan Wangji turns his eyes sharply away, no longer looking at Wei Wuxian. His hands are shaky with what can only be anger around his new cup of tea.

Wei Wuxian can’t help himself. “Could it be..? Is it that they’re not revealing enough for Lan-wangye’s taste?”

“You…” Lan Wangji says, hesitating for a moment as if he doesn’t know what to call him now that he can’t call him Wei Ying, which is unexpectedly cute.

Wei Wuxian grins cheerfully. “Yes, me!”

“Master, what are you doing?” His maid whispers from behind him, a nauseous, frightened tone to her voice, “Don’t antagonise Wangye!”

Ah. Wei Wuxian forgot, again.

He immediately lowers his head, blinking with wide eyes. “Wangye, this servant didn't mean any offence, please forgive this servant his presumption.”

Lan Wangji once again looks at him. His brows are furrowed as he opens his mouth, but he doesn’t say anything for a long time. Wei Wuxian raises one brow in a silent question when he feels his head maid’s vibrating anxiety at Lan Wangji’s silence.

Right as Lan Wangji breathes out like he will finally say something, the doors bang open and someone comes careening through them. “Your Highness! You will not believe what I heard! They say you took a concu— con— concubine?!”

Nie Huaisang freezes in the middle of the room when he spots Wei Wuxian. He looks at Lan Wangji, then at Wei Wuxian standing to the side, then back at Lan Wangji, his mouth opening and closing in an exaggerated shock.

“Duke Nie,” Lan Wangji says, tilting his head in greeting. He then glances towards Wei Wuxian. 

At the cue, Wei Wuxian lowers himself in a flourishing bow. “Good day,” He says quietly with a close-lipped, pleasant close-lipped smile, “This Prince-Concubine Mo Xuanyu greets the Border General, Duke Nie of Qinghe.”

“Ah, ah— um, this duke greets Prince-Concubine Mo,” Nie Huaisang manages to say, turning to him with a shallower bow. “I hadn't expected… to think that I would see the day that Prince Wangji would take a lover… Wow! Good thing I brought gifts just in case, huh, Your Highness?”

“Mn.” Lan Wangji nods.

Nie Huaisang looks stunned at the easy agreement.

With the commotion finally calming down, they all head to their places. Wei Wuxian walks slowly towards the table and stands to the side, lowering his eyes demurely. He’s not too bad at this, if he does say so himself. Apparently he can be polite when he wants to.

Nie Huaisang, meanwhile, sits one seat below Lan Wangji on the right side of the table, with his own one attendant standing at his back.

The servants all bustle to bring out the food; multitudes of trays filled with various dishes. Some of them are the obviously tasteless medicinal food that Wei Wuxian is familiar with from Lan Qiren’s time of regency in the Imperial Palace, but the rest of it look mouth-watering. While they’re all still vegetarian, some of them are so brightly red that Wei Wuxian can barely hold back from lunging forward and stealing a few bites. His lack of a breakfast is very much working against him. 

Then, with the meal spread over the table, the servants bring out the tea set. One of them glances over to Wei Wuxian with an obvious question on his face. Wei Wuxian’s head maid nudges him from the side, and when he glances back at her, she gestures him to the table.

Wei Wuxian steps forward with his eyes still lowered, lips still smiling faintly.

He bows, once to Lan Wangji and then to Nie Huaisang, before kneeling by the side of the table. He starts brewing the tea, and the two others watch him in silence as he works; wets the tea leaves, pours the first brew away, pours more water, all without once misplacing a single frill of his hems. Madam Yu has taught him all too well, and it’s not that different to do it with the subservience of a minor concubine than the honour of a lord-son.

“Prince-Concubine Mo is very refined and cultured,” Nie Huaisang says finally, as Wei Wuxian pours the tea into the two cups. When he’s handed his own cup of tea, he takes a deep breath of it, and grins to Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian bends his head as if shy, and hides his smile behind his long sleeve while he observes Nie Huaisang above it. “Duke Nie flatters me,” He says, lowering his lashes.

“To be honest, I’m quite surprised!” Nie Huaisang turns to Lan Wangji, who’s already drinking his tea, “Prince-Concubine looks a bit like Wei-xiong, so I thought he would at least act like him too!”

Wei Wuxian nearly falls over. Wei-xiong? What the heck? Is Nie Huaisang onto him? Is that why he’s suddenly mentioned Wei Wuxian all of a sudden?

He only manages to bow and pull away through sheer force of will, keeping his head down and his face still.

If he needs to start running—

“But thankfully, I must have overthought about that. They couldn’t be more different in temperament,” Nie Huaisang seems a little hesitant as he looks at the frozen Lan Wangji, “Ah, Your Highness, as your friend I admit I was concerned that you might have been trying to replace him, so I hope—”

“Nie Huaisang.” Lan Wangji says, his voice filling the room with freezing ice. “That’s enough.”

Nie Huaisang immediately opens a fan and flutters it in front of himself. “I’m sorry! Of course you wouldn’t want to discuss this in front of Prince-Concubine—! I really don’t know why I didn't think… I don’t know, I really don’t know. Hold on, I can make up for it!”

“Duke Nie,” Lan Wangji starts, but Nie Huaisang waves his fan at him.

“Just wait for a minute Lan-xiong!” He says cheerfully, before he turns towards the attendant he’s brought with him; “Go get A-Bai to bring those gifts, okay? All of them!”

“Yes, my lord,” The attendant bows and scurries away.

They’re left in silence.

“Your Highness, about what I said about replacing—”

Lan Wangji’s brows twitch. “No talking during mealtimes.”

“Right, right, let’s eat!” Nie Huaisang waits only long enough for Lan Wangji to take a piece of cabbage with his chopsticks before he starts stuffing himself. It’s almost as if he’s trying to run away from the awkwardness of the atmosphere that he himself created.

Wei Wuxian, on the other hand, has no such buffer. He desperately wants to know what that had been about. Why his real name had suddenly popped up out of nowhere. Why Lan Wangji hadn't been surprised about it popping up. What there was to replace.

He’s so deep in thought, in fact, that he startles when Nie Huaisang jumps up with a muffled scream of pain.

“Hot, hot, hot!!” Nie Huaisang fans his mouth, teary-eyed, and he lunges for his tea and swallows it in one go. Wei Wuxian remembers to go refill it for him this time, and Nie Huaisang drinks that too. He’s gotten terribly red in the face.

“Is Duke Nie alright?” Wei Wuxian asks softly, as if anxious not to disturb the silence of mealtimes, “Do you require this one to go call a physician?”

“No, no, Prince-Concubine Mo is too kind,” Nie Huaisang says with a wobbly smile, tears clinging to his bloodshot eyes, and his voice is oddly cottony like his lips are numb. “I just wanted to try this eggplant stew, but I suppose I should have guessed what it would be like from its colour.”

Wei Wuxian looks at the eggplants. They’re a red so bright that they shine. It’s close enough to Wei Wuxian that he’s able to smell its divine, burning smell, spicespicespice, and he’s made drastically more aware of how hungry he is.

“I guess I’ll just stick to the browner food from now on,” Nie Huaisang says to Lan Wangji, “I didn't know Your Highness liked such spicy dishes!”

“Mn.” Lan Wangji says, and then he resumes picking at his tasteless, steamed tofu pieces.

Wei Wuxian notices that Lan Wangji’s teacup is empty, and he goes to refill that. Is doing just this really okay? His purpose here seems to be very limited. He tries to remember the constant warnings his head maid had given him on the way to the dining hall; pour tea, smile, answer if spoken to, serve food if asked to, just generally do what Lan Wangji says, be unobstructive and decorative.

His stomach growls. This is very boring.

When Wei Wuxian starts pulling away from the table, a hand grabs his wrist. He pauses on his halfway crouch, looking up to find Lan Wangji’s golden eyes narrowed onto him.

Wei Wuxian covers the confused tilt of his lips with his free hand’s sleeve. “Wangye?” He asks, “Does Wangye need something else from this servant? Shall I fetch a dish from across the table to serve?”

Lan Wangji doesn’t say anything for a long moment.

Wei Wuxian glances around to find everyone watching them intently, but thankfully, all of them too far away to hear. He covers his lower face fully with his sleeve and leans closer, whispering, “Lan Zhan? Is something wrong?”

Lan Wangji slowly, slowly, lets go of Wei Wuxian’s wrist. He turns back to face the table. “You haven’t eaten,” He says abruptly, for no discernible reason.

Wei Wuxian blinks, pulling away from Lan Wangji. “Yes..?” He says, in an audible voice, “This servant couldn’t find the time yet. With Wangye’s permission, I will eat after Wangye’s meal is over.”

“Sit down,” Lan Wangji says, and while Wei Wuxian is still staring at him, he glances at the servants lining the room; “Set another place at the table.”

Wei Wuxian hears his head maid gasp. When he glances back curiously, she’s still staring politely down, but he’s sure that it was her that he heard. Shaking his head, Wei Wuxian follows along and sits down where the servants set a third pillow across Nie Huaisang, on Lan Wangji’s left, at a lower ranked seat.  

He looks at the empty plate in front of him, at the chopsticks, and at the teacup that one of Lan Wangji’s attendants hurries to fill with the tea that Wei Wuxian made. He looks up at Lan Wangji who’s already begun to eat again.

Shrugging internally, Wei Wuxian starts piling his plate with the reddest dishes he can see. As expected of Lan Wangji, he doesn’t want anyone to ever go hungry. He’s really an exceptional man.

The meal passes in another bout of silence as Wei Wuxian eats with as small bites as he can force himself to eat. Every single dish is heavenly. He loves them so much. He can’t believe they can actually make good food in the Imperial Palace— he had thought that they only ever ate bitter, medicinal soups and broiled vegetables. Apparently at least Lan Wangji has the good sense to have his kitchens make proper food.

It’s so good, in fact, that Wei Wuxian rues the fact that Mo Xuanyu’s starved body already feels stuffed full by the time Wei Wuxian gets halfway through the bright red foods. He’s only nibbling to avoid putting down his chopsticks before Lan Wangji, since he does actually know some etiquette, when he sees from the corner of his eyes Nie Huaisang’s two attendants entering the room.

The two men walk in steadily, each carrying a big box in their hands and they wait on the side for the meal to finish. Ever graceful, Lan Wangji glances once at Wei Wuxian and then at Nie Huaisang, and he puts his chopsticks down. Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian follow, and the servants immediately start clearing the table and serving an after-meal tea.

“Alright!” Nie Huaisang says, “Time for gifts! The first one is for His Highness; the usual.”

One of the attendants comes forward with a wide box covered by an embroidered cloth. He hands it to one of the servants, and the servant places the box in front of Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian watches curiously as Lan Wangji nods and the servant pulls off the cloth, revealing an iron cage with a small blue bird inside.

“You’re welcome!” Nie Huaisang grins, “She’s a beauty, isn’t she? Sings just as beautifully too.”

“Thank you for the gift,” Lan Wangji intones, no particular change on his face, gesturing for a servant to take the cage away.

“Don’t thank me just yet, Your Highness, I also brought somethings for Prince-Concubine Mo!” Nie Huaisang says, and he waves his fan in a vague gesture as his other attendant comes forward. “I dug into my personal collection to find proper gifts on time, so I hope Prince-Concubine Mo doesn’t mind the variety. Here, here, just casually use whichever one you like! I painted them myself.”

An ornate lacquered wood box is brought in front of Wei Wuxian. It has seven layers, and Wei Wuxian opens them one by one; in each layer, there is a fan of the highest quality painted with beautiful designs. Dark blue silk with the waves of the deep sea, forest green with dark bamboo and a single silver deer, peach pink with thousands of tiny blossoms… Time has clearly only improved Nie Huaisang’s craft.

In particular, Wei Wuxian eyes a pure black fan with crimson spider-lilies and golden clouds, with a blood-red tassel hanging down it, and another, too-pale blue fan that practically screams Imperial Clan with its pure white flowers and snowy landscape, the handle decorated with a jade ornament.

“Wangye, which one do you like?” Wei Wuxian raises the two fans, the black and the blue, tilting his head bashfully down, hiding his teasing underneath the poise of a dutiful concubine; “This servant will use the one that pleases Wangye.”

Lan Wangji turns towards him with a flat stare that says he knows exactly what Wei Wuxian’s doing. Despite the casual nature of their conversation, an instant tension fills the room, and the servants are practically vibrating in place the longer Lan Wangji stays silent.

 Wei Wuxian waits eagerly to receive at least a glare and a Shameless! just like old times.

“The black one,” Lan Wangji says finally, nodding to himself.

Wei Wuxian doesn’t pout, but it’s a near thing. Not a single reaction! Maybe Lan Wangji really has grown up.

When he puts the blue fan and the other five back into the box and snaps open the black and red one over his face, Nie Huaisang is staring at him with a pitying face. “Your… Your Highness,” Nie Huaisang says, hesitantly, to Lan Wangji, “Really it’s not good to project the dead onto—”

“Duke Nie,” Lan Wangji says, looking like he really wants to sigh, “Stop it.”

“Aaah… I don’t even know anymore,” Nie Huaisang whines, and he turns to Wei Wuxian with a weary sort of apology, “Prince-Concubine Mo should keep all of the fans! It’s a gift. Please use any of them as you like.”

Wei Wuxian fans himself slowly, seriously wondering what the fuck this is all about.

“This one thanks Duke Nie most humbly for the generous gifts,” He says.

Even though you’re confusing as fuck, He doesn’t say. Wei Wuxian is of the firm opinion that this proves his enormous restraint and wondrous acting abilities. Lan Wangji better be grateful.