Chapter Text
“Sorry about the carpet,” Wei Wuxian said as Wen Qing turned a slow circuit of the little living room. It was his first time showing an apartment. Only two of his units had come up empty in the brief time that he’d owned the building. The first time he’d let the management company he’d hired handle the rental process, but then Wen Qing asked him to let her know the next time one came up free.
“I’m done with roommates,” was all she’d say. Wei Wuxian didn’t need to be a diviner to know that she’d been fine with roommates right up until she started being interested in evening companionship.
Jiang Cheng was still in town and showing no signs of leaving, but he was still in the hotel so it wasn’t hard to see where this was headed. Fortunately, the rent was whatever Wei Wuxian wanted it to be and he didn’t mind giving his found family a hefty discount --especially if she’d agree to take a turn charging the building wards.
Most of his tenants were, um, super white. So they didn’t have a cultural history of seeing talisman papers posted and leaving them the fuck alone. What that meant for him, until he found a way to disguise the building protections well enough, was that the warding spells periodically got broken by his well-intentioned yet ignorant tenants when they tried to help him out by taking down the ‘weird little flyers’ that kept getting posted by the entrances.
The ‘weird little flyers’ were why this unit was both empty and something of a wreck. Karen in 2B thought the building was being tagged for a robbery and actually posted spy cameras in the hallways until she caught him repairing a talisman.
Getting the cops called on him was not the best way to learn that she hadn’t believed him when he’d introduced himself as the new owner. Worse still, they were not cops he knew this time and he had to wake Zhou up out of a dead sleep to keep them from arresting him.
That was the beginning of what ended up as Baby’s First Eviction.
Karen and her husband Stu left without too much argument, which was about all he could say in their favor. She left a letter stuck to his door on her way out informing him that since he was keeping her security deposit, that she’d made it worth the money.
Wei Wuxian hadn’t actually said anything about keeping the deposit, although he sure was now. The carpet sported big splotches of paint and all the window treatments had vanished with the former tenants. They hadn’t managed to put holes in the wall, but the microwave had vanished along with the blinds and the fridge had been unplugged with food left in it.
“That’s fine,” Wen Qing replied absently. “I was going to ask if we could pull up a corner to see if there’s parquet under it like in your unit.”
“Worth a shot,” Wei Wuxian allowed. “I’ll let you know. If we have to replace it, you can come with me to look at swatches.”
“The bedroom looks like it’s alright,” Wen Qing continued her leisurely tour. “Guess they didn’t want to mess up the place where they were sleeping.”
“I guess.” Wei Wuxian shrugged as they wandered into what he thought was a closet, but turned out to be an entire Sex and the City sized dressing room. “Woah,” he muttered as he peered around. This room had also been stripped of anything easily portable, which was most of a custom closet organization system.
“I think this used to be a bedroom,” Wen Qing said as she peered behind a floor-to-ceiling mirror that leaned up against one wall. “There used to be a door here.”
Sure enough, there was some slightly rippled drywall hidden by the mirror. It wasn’t an invisible patch, but it didn’t look like something that Karen and Stu might have been able to do by themselves either. Their old lease was for a one bedroom so this might have been a weird renovation decision from the previous owner.
“If we open the door back up then you could have a study,” Wei Wuxian said as he turned a circle, trying to picture it. The room was kind of runty for a second bedroom and there was no window, which was probably why it had become a closet. “What do you think?”
“I would have taken it no matter what just to live in cultivator friendly housing,” Wen Qing replied frankly. “Gimme a lease.”
They shook on it and she was in before nightfall. Jiang Cheng arrived with her, loaded down with boxes of books and opinions about how she needed more bookshelves. Wei Wuxian kind of wondered if something had gone down with her roommates, but ultimately decided it wasn’t his business --not in the least because Wen Qing’s former roommates were all terrifying and he wasn’t convinced that talking about them wouldn’t draw their attention.
Unfortunately for Wei Wuxian, it only took about a week before he found out why Wen Wing suddenly needed to move. He’d already known that he was getting Jiang Cheng as a tenant at no extra charge for the duration of this visit and all future visits.
What he hadn’t realized was that this wasn’t a visit.
The first breeze of the oncoming storm arrived when NYPD called on a day when Wei Wuxian was working from home. His talisman work with Zixuan was taking off and he’d begun to spend more time just at home dealing with emails. He usually dropped everything when the cops called, but on that day he’d promised to be on a conference call later that he actually didn’t want to miss.
Jiang Cheng was hanging out with him, recording a video of Cinnabun in the middle of an epic binky, and picked up on the conflict in Wei Wuxian’s tone when he asked where the crime scene was.
“Hang on a sec,” he said to Zhou and covered the receiver when Jiang Cheng waved in his face. “What?”
“Send me,” Jiang Cheng said shortly. “I don’t got shit to do and I’m used to working with cops. Call me a subcontractor or whatever. We’ll work it out when I get back.”
Frankly, it was a good deal for Wei Wuxian so he didn’t ask too many questions as he hopped back on the call. “Yeah, nevermind, Zhou. I have a shidi in town who I can send out for you. It doesn’t sound like you need a spiritualist and he’s an A-rank exorcist. He can take care of your residual haunting.”
Jen Cheng went out, dispelled a cold spot that was creeping out some crime scene techs, and came back with a contract he found on LegalZoom to retroactively cover their asses.
Unfortunately, finding out that Wei Wuxian had junior cultivators to call on just meant that Wei Wuxian’s phone started ringing even more often. The NYPD loved Jiang Cheng whereas they’d only vaguely tolerated Wei Wuxian, but it sort of made sense. If you didn’t know better, then you’d think Jiang Cheng was a New York city native. He had the attitude, the fashion, and everything but the accent.
“Shijie, don’t laugh!” he complained to his sister during their weekly call. “What am I going to do when he goes home?”
Yanli was quiet for a moment, “A-Xian…” she said hesitantly and Wei Wuxian sat up because that was her ‘bad news’ tone. “...I think you need to talk to A-Cheng.”
“Shijie, what’s going on?” he asked. In the background, Lan Zhan stepped out of the kitchen where he’d been making tea and cutting up a snack for Cinnabun with his brows creased in concern. Wei Wuxian waved him off with a little finger heart sign to let him know everything was fine.
“He hasn’t said anything to me…” Yanli hedged. “...it’s just that dad has called a couple of times lately, asking if I’ve talked to A-Cheng. Mom called me too, but I didn’t pick up and she didn’t leave a message. I didn’t tell them anything, but I think something is going on.”
That didn’t sound good.
Getting Jiang Cheng alone again for a conversation was rough enough that he knew Jiang Cheng was for sure hiding something. Finally, he called in the big gun.
WWX: Qing-jie, I need to talk to Chengcheng.
WWX: He’s avoiding me. Shijie thinks something is wrong. It’s probably time to do something about it.
Qing-jie: That would explain what crawled up his ass and died lately.
Qing-jie: I’ll send him over. Wangji can come hang out here if you two need privacy.
WWX: Maybe.
To give Jiang Cheng credit, he knew which side his bread was buttered on. He was on Wei Wuxian’s doormat within fifteen minutes. Lan Zhan answered, took one look at the mulish expression on Jiang Cheng’s face, and went to get his book to take with him to Wen Qing’s.
Jiang Cheng held it in until the door closed behind Lan Zhan’s back. “So?” he bristled, clearly knowing what this was about and still unwilling to be the first one to crack.
“Shushu and Yu-furen have been calling Shijie asking about you,” Wei Wuxian was a more experienced hand at managing his shidi than he once had been. He went and flopped on the new couch that Lan Zhan had gotten to replace their old one. Cinnabun hopped up next to him and flopped over against his thigh to be petted.
A shudder chased through his foster brother’s shoulders and -bingo- Wei Wuxian knew he was onto something. Jiang Cheng flopped onto the couch, not unlike Cinnabun, and poked sullenly at one of her fluffy feet.
“I’m not going back to California,” he grumbled. “I didn’t know if I wanted to stay in New York when I came, but I think I’m gonna.”
Holy shit.
“What does Qing-jie think?” Wei Wuxian asked very carefully, as if the bloodline heir of Lotus Pier hadn’t just basically admitted that he was quitting the sect.
“She got an apartment so we could see if we can live together without killing each other.” Jiang Cheng shot him the side eye. “What do you think?”
No wonder Jiang Cheng was suddenly interested in finding local work. His trust fund was impressive, but he wasn’t man wife material. This was good for Wei Wuxian, personally, because it meant he could formalize their partnership. Maybe turn it into a business or something. Zixuan would have opinions about that, but there were some rather more pressing concerns.
“So I’m guessing you told Shushu and Yu-furen and that’s why they’re looking for you,” Wei Wuxian rubbed the back of his head.
This was going to get so ugly.
On the one hand, Jiang Cheng was an adult. He had his own money. It was a free country. He could go where he wanted and do whatever he liked.
On the other hand, the cautious traveller was often advised to set their clocks back 500 years when entering cultivation society. Shushu might see things Jiang Cheng’s way, but Yu-furen would never, not in a million years. Her son was her legacy, despite the fact that her legacy was kind of an awful one. He didn't blame Jiang Cheng for wanting no part of it.
Jiang Cheng ground his jaw, but nodded. “I talked to them last week,” he admitted at length. “It went about as well as you’d expect. I got a noise complaint at the hotel because of it. I was going to talk to you, but I needed some time to cool down. A-Jie didn’t tell me they were bothering her.”
“Bothering is probably a strong word,” Wei Wuxian said. “She’s hypersensitive to their moods. They probably have no idea she suspects anything.”
“Aaah, fuck.” Jiang Cheng buried his face in the cushions, much to Cinnabun’s alarm. She wormed into the open front of Wei Wuxian’s sweater and then poked her little reproachful face out. “Sorry, sweetie,” Jiang Cheng added with a gentleness and compassion he never had for humans.
“So what happened?” Wei Wuxian asked.
Something had to have happened. Giving up the broad, flower-lined path laid out for him at birth and screwing over the juniors who’d one day serve him wasn’t something he’d have done casually.
Jiang Cheng groaned. “Shit got worse after you left.”
Wei Wuxian frowned. “Worse how?”
“Worse as in they nearly got divorced,” Jiang Cheng lifted his gaze enough to glare. “They ended up not doing it because the pre-nup that the Jiang sect signed with the Yu sect would have taken us to the cleaners.”
“What?” Wei Wuxian could barely picture it. Yes, his foster parents made each other miserable, but they were part of a marriage alliance that reaffirmed a very ancient connection between the sects. They didn’t like each other, but they took the marriage seriously. They didn't screw around. They didn't abuse one another's finances. They had kids. “How?”
Jiang Cheng rubbed the back of his head, “It came out that Mom knew the entire time that you were my core donor.”
Ice flooded Wei Wuxian’s veins. “No,” he shook his head, unable to process that. “No, I didn’t tell anybody until I got to New York. Even Shijie doesn’t know.”
“She was your emergency medical contact, dumbass! Of course she knew! She was supposed to pick you up from the hospital after!” Jiang Cheng finally sat all the way up just so he could glare properly. “Dad found out when he took a call from the hospital for mom. He thought it was about me, but it was the surgical team calling to follow up on your aftercare because your medical records hadn’t been updated with any notes.”
“I…” All thought and mental processing power failed Wei Wuxian. He sat there, numbly petting his rabbit, for an unquantifiable length of time. “...why?”
“She never said,” Jiang Cheng turned abruptly away. “Dad accused her of trying to kill you. She said if --nevermind what she said. It was bullshit anyway.”
Wei Wuxian could imagine what Yu-furen had said. Her favorite line on the training field was ‘if you’re weak enough to die from that then you should die.’ He doubted she was serious. Usually it was what she said if someone was bellyaching about being made to lift weights, but he could still hear it echoing in his head.
“Dad tried to demote her within the sect, but her maternal family got wind of it and there was a huge court case,” Jiang Cheng continued, sullenly. “Jiang Sect lost and mom still has joint leadership of the sect, but the court case aired a lot of the main family’s dirty laundry in front of our people. We’ve been hemorrhaging talent ever since and I…” he scrubbed his face. “...I started to realize I didn’t want to stay either. Maybe I’ll take over one day, but mom and dad are probably going to live for two or three hundred years! Longer even!”
Okay, yeah. That was a long time to live in close quarters with your parents being trapped in an acrimonious marriage.
“Hey,” Wei Wuxian sat Cinnabun to the side so he could very carefully pull Jiang Cheng into a hug. “That was really brave.”
He could tell Jiang Cheng really wanted to be hugged because he didn’t throw Wei Wuxian off. He just leaned into the embrace.
“My therapist has been after me to leave for years,” Jiang Cheng admitted after a while, once he was ready to pull back. “Do you know how bad it has to get for a therapist to flat out tell you to run away from home?” He rolled his eyes. “I waited until my trust paid out and came out here. Zixuan said something that made me think you were in the area and Qing-er is here. A-Jie still comes to visit the city sometimes too, but she won’t set foot in California anymore. It seemed like my whole life had moved to the East Coast without me so I decided to give it a try. I expected to take longer to find you though.”
Wei Wuxian chuckled and considered a future in it with all his favorite people accessible to him once more. Fuck, he had a lot to do now, didn't he?
They were going to need to overhaul the building wards and he’d need to get Lan Zhan to help. He couldn’t keep Yu-furen out of the city, but he didn’t want her showing up at either of their doors. At minimum, Qing-jie shouldn’t have to get dragged into the fight.
“We’ll work it out,” Wei Wuxian promised and ruffled his brother’s hair. “So I guess this means I get to keep my subcontractor, ah?”
Jiang Cheng glared. “We’re starting an LLC. Your taxes are already a fucking nightmare.”
“Good thing you’re here then, isn’t it?” Wei Wuxian chuckled.
"Guess so," Jiang Cheng grumbled, but one of his hands found Wei Wuxian's forearm where it was resting on Jiang Cheng's shoulder and held on tight.