Lan-xuezhang, Please Stop Crushing On Me
Feb. 15th, 2020 06:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rikorenChapter 4
Previous chapters: 01, 02, 03
This time Lan Wangji didn't even lift his head; he tugged a new paper out from beneath Wei Wuxian's hand, and continued to read.
Wei Wuxian couldn't resist complaining in his heart.
Why is Lan Wangji so calm? All the stories say the one getting their desk slammed should get all bashful and nervous, right, and then they'll lift their head. And at this angle, it'd be just the right distance for them to get kissed...hm?
Of course, I obviously don't want to kiss him, but if he doesn't react even a tiny bit, where's my sense of accomplishment? Aren't I losing a lot of face here!?
This won't do at all, lemme just try again.
So Wei Wuxian bent slightly over, leaned close to Lan Wangji's ear, and said: "I'm really hungry, when I get hungry my blood sugar gets low...as soon as my blood sugar's low then I can't write another word..."
As the (self-proclaimed) one being crushed on, purposely using a coquettish way of speaking would really be crossing the line. He didn't have any plans to accept the guy's feelings, after all. But in order to win the right to eat lunch, he was willing to tackle this difficult job. Talking right up against somebody's ear was already pretty dubious, even if you used a perfectly normal tone of voice, so its attack power should still be pretty high...probably.
But Lan Wangji still didn't so much as glance at him; he didn't even open his mouth until after he'd quickly finished writing another short and simple evaluation comment, saying: "Takeout will be here soon."
Wei Wuxian asked without thinking: "...Takeout? What takeout?"
Lan Wangji: "Xiaoxiang Restaurant."
Xiaoxiang Restaurant, as its name implied, specialized in Hunan cuisine; with its copious use of oil and its extremely spicy foods, it had cleared out its own unique territory in the fight against all the more fresh and clean restaurants on campus, and had also attracted a following of spice-loving diehard fans. Its weak point was that its prices weren't kind, and it was far from the part of campus where Wei Wuxian spent most of his time, so ordering takeout could mean a couple hours' wait. If it weren't for that, he'd be eating three meals a day at Xiaoxiang Restaurant. [TN: Xiaoxiang is a region in modern-day Hunan, which is renowned for its spicy cuisine.]
So Wei Wuxian let out a whoop of joy, and said: "That's great! When did you order it? That place has always had slow delivery!"
Lan Wangji: "Before I went to find you."
Wei Wuxian: "Whoa! Then it'd be here 1 at the latest and the clock's already almost there, if you ordered takeout you should've said so sooner, here I was starting to think this was some sort of illegal child labor!" He performed an incredibly inappropriate salute, "2PM deadline, right? I pledge to finish the task I've been assigned within the allotted time!"
It's a good thing he didn't leave, or else he'd be seriously missing out. It felt like forever since he'd last eaten anything spicy, he was practically suffering withdrawal from lack of flavor.
Wei Wuxian was busily drooling when something knocked against the back of his hand—it was a pen.
It was only then that he realized his hand pressed against the stack of ungraded papers was getting in the way, and hurriedly pulled it back, escaping back to his own seat as he said: "I'll be getting to work then."
Lan Wangji: "Mmhm."
Wei Wuxian: "Just making sure, is there enough for both of us to eat, am I getting a share?"
Lan Wangji: "Yes."
Wei Wuxian: "Then...then, then when the takeout gets here...can I, can I..."
Can I eat first, work after?
Before he'd finished speaking, Lan Wangji already had a definite rejection ready: "No."
...Fine.
I knew it'd be like that.
It's for Xiaoxiang Restaurant's sake that I'm not arguing over your attitude.
Wei Wuxian haughtily clicked his tongue, then turned around and started tapping loudly away at the keyboard. Reconciling data and editing layouts, fixing typos and grammatical mistakes, patching up sections that weren't explained clearly enough. The moment he started focusing, he quickly lost himself entirely, ignoring everything around him, and working with startling efficiency.
About an hour later, Wei Wuxian typed in the final period, then let out a long, satisfied sigh as he finally stopped working.
The stimulating aroma specific to Hunan cuisine had long-since permeated the entire room, and immediately awoke the craving that had been forced into dormancy for so long by his focused attention.
Wei Wuxian promptly remembered the takeout, and yelled loudly: "Fuck! What time is it!"
He cast a quick glance to the wall clock, saw that it was 1:45, then just as quickly turned his head in a desperate search for the takeout box, swearing silently in his head. Who knew if Lan Wangji might have left a little bit of meat behind for him? When he finally followed the scent into a conference room half-separated from the research lab, the conference table already had a single-use tablecloth spread over it, and in the center of the table was a neatly-aligned collection of boxes, consisting of four dishes and two boxes of white rice, their lids still unopened in order to preserve heat.
Lan Wangji sat on the side facing the door, flipping through a lesson plan; when he saw Wei Wuxian come in, he pointed his pen at the seat across from him, indicating that he could sit there, then said: "Wash your hands first."
He hadn't started without him! They weren't leftovers!
At this moment, in Wei Wuxian's eyes, Lan Wangji seemed as if a filter had been applied to him, making him not only look taller, but even making his icy-cold face more pleasing to look at than ever before.
Fortunately he hadn't forgotten the important matters, and said: "I fixed my report, do you want to take a look at it first?"
Lan Wangji: "Alright, print it out then."
Wei Wuxian walked back and pressed Ctrl+P, then rushed back to the conference table without even waiting for the papers to finish printing, opening those treasure chests one by one: "Braised shrimp! Spicy stir-fry! There's even sirloin!"
He quickly sat down, looking for all the world as if he were ready to protect this food with his life.
With no other option, Lan Wangji could only grab a box of wet wipes for him to wipe his hands, then went to get the printed-out report before sitting back down across from him.
Wei Wuxian already had his disposable chopsticks lifted into the air, ready to dig in at any moment: "Can I eat first?"
Lan Wangji: "Mmhm."
Wei Wuxian: "Whoo!"
As he made a clean sweep of the meat and absolutely nothing else, Lan Wangji lowered his head to carefully examine the report he'd worked so hard on.
This assignment topic was titled "A Deduction on the Interrelated Short-Term Reactions between Invisible Beast Hair and Mysticology Crucibles", numbered 16 pages after editing, and pretty much had no padding to speak of.
Lan Wangji spent five minutes giving it a once-over, lifted his pen to edit a bit, pointed out a few technical terms that needed clarification, and also marked all the chapters and page numbers for the materials in the bibliography.
Wei Wuxian shot him a few glances as he ate, inwardly complaining, what sort of ungodly memory did the guy have? He'd written the thing in a hurry, so he'd only listed a few of the more important titles at the end; as for little details like chapters and page numbers, he'd always been the type to economize whenever he could.
At 1:55, Lan Wangji put Wei Wuxian's report in its own separate file folder, and stuck a red label on it—which meant it was excellent, and worthy of thorough evaluation—before putting it in the binder with the rest of the reports for delivery.
Wei Wuxian looked at that red label and felt a growing delight bubbling up from within. Putting aside any complaints about his personal way of doing things, Lan Wangji's accomplishments in his field were absolutely perfect; to be able to get his acknowledgement really hammered in that sense of success.
And so, he asked: "What do you think of this topic, you think there's a possibility of deeper exploration?"
Lan Wangji: "Not out of the question."
Wei Wuxian absolutely hated when people were careful with their wording around him, especially those people who were like "I have a meeting in the morning and a conference in the afternoon, so I've got no time to go on a date with you".
But he was eating the takeout that Lan Wangji had ordered, and the power of life and death was currently sitting in Lan Wangji's grasp; he didn't have the confidence to just turn around and leave here. All he could do was console himself - at least this kind of meticulous wording really suited Lan Wangji, so he'd push himself not to be put-off by it just this once.
So he carefully probed: "Would you say I'm up to standards? If it's good quality then can I get a little bit of extra credit?"
Lan Wangji had just come back from delivering the reports, and was just about to pick up his chopsticks, only to put them down again at those words and reply: "Based on the quality and quantity of this report, it is possible. But the final result will have to rely on Professor Jiang's wishes."
"Alright, it's enough that you think it's possible." Lan Wangji's opinion still held some weight to it, and with his heart having come back down from his throat, Wei Wuxian picked up a piece of meat and placed it on Lan Wangji's rice, saying "But all that aside, thanks for the help, shixiong."
Lan Wangji stared with an incredibly complicated look at that bright-red piece of meat sitting smack-dab in the center of his box; red oil had already soaked through a small portion of the rice.
He stared at it for a good few seconds, before finally saying: "Cutting class is a separate matter."
Wei Wuxian: "...Ah???"
========
Next chapter: 05
Previous chapters: 01, 02, 03
This time Lan Wangji didn't even lift his head; he tugged a new paper out from beneath Wei Wuxian's hand, and continued to read.
Wei Wuxian couldn't resist complaining in his heart.
Why is Lan Wangji so calm? All the stories say the one getting their desk slammed should get all bashful and nervous, right, and then they'll lift their head. And at this angle, it'd be just the right distance for them to get kissed...hm?
Of course, I obviously don't want to kiss him, but if he doesn't react even a tiny bit, where's my sense of accomplishment? Aren't I losing a lot of face here!?
This won't do at all, lemme just try again.
So Wei Wuxian bent slightly over, leaned close to Lan Wangji's ear, and said: "I'm really hungry, when I get hungry my blood sugar gets low...as soon as my blood sugar's low then I can't write another word..."
As the (self-proclaimed) one being crushed on, purposely using a coquettish way of speaking would really be crossing the line. He didn't have any plans to accept the guy's feelings, after all. But in order to win the right to eat lunch, he was willing to tackle this difficult job. Talking right up against somebody's ear was already pretty dubious, even if you used a perfectly normal tone of voice, so its attack power should still be pretty high...probably.
But Lan Wangji still didn't so much as glance at him; he didn't even open his mouth until after he'd quickly finished writing another short and simple evaluation comment, saying: "Takeout will be here soon."
Wei Wuxian asked without thinking: "...Takeout? What takeout?"
Lan Wangji: "Xiaoxiang Restaurant."
Xiaoxiang Restaurant, as its name implied, specialized in Hunan cuisine; with its copious use of oil and its extremely spicy foods, it had cleared out its own unique territory in the fight against all the more fresh and clean restaurants on campus, and had also attracted a following of spice-loving diehard fans. Its weak point was that its prices weren't kind, and it was far from the part of campus where Wei Wuxian spent most of his time, so ordering takeout could mean a couple hours' wait. If it weren't for that, he'd be eating three meals a day at Xiaoxiang Restaurant. [TN: Xiaoxiang is a region in modern-day Hunan, which is renowned for its spicy cuisine.]
So Wei Wuxian let out a whoop of joy, and said: "That's great! When did you order it? That place has always had slow delivery!"
Lan Wangji: "Before I went to find you."
Wei Wuxian: "Whoa! Then it'd be here 1 at the latest and the clock's already almost there, if you ordered takeout you should've said so sooner, here I was starting to think this was some sort of illegal child labor!" He performed an incredibly inappropriate salute, "2PM deadline, right? I pledge to finish the task I've been assigned within the allotted time!"
It's a good thing he didn't leave, or else he'd be seriously missing out. It felt like forever since he'd last eaten anything spicy, he was practically suffering withdrawal from lack of flavor.
Wei Wuxian was busily drooling when something knocked against the back of his hand—it was a pen.
It was only then that he realized his hand pressed against the stack of ungraded papers was getting in the way, and hurriedly pulled it back, escaping back to his own seat as he said: "I'll be getting to work then."
Lan Wangji: "Mmhm."
Wei Wuxian: "Just making sure, is there enough for both of us to eat, am I getting a share?"
Lan Wangji: "Yes."
Wei Wuxian: "Then...then, then when the takeout gets here...can I, can I..."
Can I eat first, work after?
Before he'd finished speaking, Lan Wangji already had a definite rejection ready: "No."
...Fine.
I knew it'd be like that.
It's for Xiaoxiang Restaurant's sake that I'm not arguing over your attitude.
Wei Wuxian haughtily clicked his tongue, then turned around and started tapping loudly away at the keyboard. Reconciling data and editing layouts, fixing typos and grammatical mistakes, patching up sections that weren't explained clearly enough. The moment he started focusing, he quickly lost himself entirely, ignoring everything around him, and working with startling efficiency.
About an hour later, Wei Wuxian typed in the final period, then let out a long, satisfied sigh as he finally stopped working.
The stimulating aroma specific to Hunan cuisine had long-since permeated the entire room, and immediately awoke the craving that had been forced into dormancy for so long by his focused attention.
Wei Wuxian promptly remembered the takeout, and yelled loudly: "Fuck! What time is it!"
He cast a quick glance to the wall clock, saw that it was 1:45, then just as quickly turned his head in a desperate search for the takeout box, swearing silently in his head. Who knew if Lan Wangji might have left a little bit of meat behind for him? When he finally followed the scent into a conference room half-separated from the research lab, the conference table already had a single-use tablecloth spread over it, and in the center of the table was a neatly-aligned collection of boxes, consisting of four dishes and two boxes of white rice, their lids still unopened in order to preserve heat.
Lan Wangji sat on the side facing the door, flipping through a lesson plan; when he saw Wei Wuxian come in, he pointed his pen at the seat across from him, indicating that he could sit there, then said: "Wash your hands first."
He hadn't started without him! They weren't leftovers!
At this moment, in Wei Wuxian's eyes, Lan Wangji seemed as if a filter had been applied to him, making him not only look taller, but even making his icy-cold face more pleasing to look at than ever before.
Fortunately he hadn't forgotten the important matters, and said: "I fixed my report, do you want to take a look at it first?"
Lan Wangji: "Alright, print it out then."
Wei Wuxian walked back and pressed Ctrl+P, then rushed back to the conference table without even waiting for the papers to finish printing, opening those treasure chests one by one: "Braised shrimp! Spicy stir-fry! There's even sirloin!"
He quickly sat down, looking for all the world as if he were ready to protect this food with his life.
With no other option, Lan Wangji could only grab a box of wet wipes for him to wipe his hands, then went to get the printed-out report before sitting back down across from him.
Wei Wuxian already had his disposable chopsticks lifted into the air, ready to dig in at any moment: "Can I eat first?"
Lan Wangji: "Mmhm."
Wei Wuxian: "Whoo!"
As he made a clean sweep of the meat and absolutely nothing else, Lan Wangji lowered his head to carefully examine the report he'd worked so hard on.
This assignment topic was titled "A Deduction on the Interrelated Short-Term Reactions between Invisible Beast Hair and Mysticology Crucibles", numbered 16 pages after editing, and pretty much had no padding to speak of.
Lan Wangji spent five minutes giving it a once-over, lifted his pen to edit a bit, pointed out a few technical terms that needed clarification, and also marked all the chapters and page numbers for the materials in the bibliography.
Wei Wuxian shot him a few glances as he ate, inwardly complaining, what sort of ungodly memory did the guy have? He'd written the thing in a hurry, so he'd only listed a few of the more important titles at the end; as for little details like chapters and page numbers, he'd always been the type to economize whenever he could.
At 1:55, Lan Wangji put Wei Wuxian's report in its own separate file folder, and stuck a red label on it—which meant it was excellent, and worthy of thorough evaluation—before putting it in the binder with the rest of the reports for delivery.
Wei Wuxian looked at that red label and felt a growing delight bubbling up from within. Putting aside any complaints about his personal way of doing things, Lan Wangji's accomplishments in his field were absolutely perfect; to be able to get his acknowledgement really hammered in that sense of success.
And so, he asked: "What do you think of this topic, you think there's a possibility of deeper exploration?"
Lan Wangji: "Not out of the question."
Wei Wuxian absolutely hated when people were careful with their wording around him, especially those people who were like "I have a meeting in the morning and a conference in the afternoon, so I've got no time to go on a date with you".
But he was eating the takeout that Lan Wangji had ordered, and the power of life and death was currently sitting in Lan Wangji's grasp; he didn't have the confidence to just turn around and leave here. All he could do was console himself - at least this kind of meticulous wording really suited Lan Wangji, so he'd push himself not to be put-off by it just this once.
So he carefully probed: "Would you say I'm up to standards? If it's good quality then can I get a little bit of extra credit?"
Lan Wangji had just come back from delivering the reports, and was just about to pick up his chopsticks, only to put them down again at those words and reply: "Based on the quality and quantity of this report, it is possible. But the final result will have to rely on Professor Jiang's wishes."
"Alright, it's enough that you think it's possible." Lan Wangji's opinion still held some weight to it, and with his heart having come back down from his throat, Wei Wuxian picked up a piece of meat and placed it on Lan Wangji's rice, saying "But all that aside, thanks for the help, shixiong."
Lan Wangji stared with an incredibly complicated look at that bright-red piece of meat sitting smack-dab in the center of his box; red oil had already soaked through a small portion of the rice.
He stared at it for a good few seconds, before finally saying: "Cutting class is a separate matter."
Wei Wuxian: "...Ah???"
========
Next chapter: 05