Look.
Jingyi knows he isn’t stupid.
Sure, he might have lower inhibitions than any Lan ever before him and his brain-to-mouth filter is practically nonexistent but that doesn’t mean he’s stupid. Far from it, in fact.
Jingyi likes to watch people. He also likes a running commentary on the people he watches which usually results in pinched looks and enough handstands to make his arm strength the best of his generation but that’s beside the point. Also, Sizhui is a little shit and loves to add to Jingyi’s observations, not that anyone would ever believe it about the perfect son of the perfect Hanguang-jun.
(Or, well. Perfect until Wei Wuxian, the freaking Yiling Patriarch resurrected in the fragile body of a mentally unstable boy and everything went to hell. It was the most fun Jingyi had had in ages. Zizhen said he should see a healer.)
Anyway.
Point is, people think Jingyi’s stupid because he’s so loud. They don’t realize that the loudness lets him get close to people, read their faces and their postures, and learn. (Then again, considering there are loud people like Sect Leader Yao, it’s no wonder even Zewu-jun’s gentle smile sometimes gains a homicidal edge when Jingyi can’t quite curb himself down. But since Zewu-jun hasn’t smiled at all after the terrible, horrible, not-good events of the Guanyin temple, Jingyi is more than happy to bear the brunt of all homicidal edges if needed. He’s selfless like that.)
For example, Jingyi knows that when Master Qiren’s scowl is flat, he’s merely annoyed but if it gets pinched and his left eye twitches slightly, he’s furious. And if it’s his right eye that twitches and his jaw grits, he has a terrible headache that forces him to retire into a darkened room to lie still.
And he knows that the Hanguang-jun he knew before was unbearably sad about something, more like a shell of jade hosting the flesh of someone who was alive and breathing not because he chose so but because he had to, for Sizhui. And after there’s something…something light about Hanguang-jun, even though he looks the same and moves the same and talks the same. There’s light in his soul and Senior Wei by his side and Hanguang-jun is happy.
Jingyi also knows that Sect Leader Jiang is an angry man who loves way too deeply to not ache all the time and he knows that Sect Leader Nie is the scariest person alive, counting the past and present Yiling Patriarch because fffuuuck. He watches, listens, and makes an extremely careful and detailed mental note to never cross Sect Leader Nie for any reason ever. Never. Because he isn’t stupid.
So, yeah.
Master Qiren’s right eye starts to twitch as the group of obnoxious minor sect leaders (including but not limited to Sect Leader Yao, for fuck’s sake, what now?) keep pestering him about some stupid skirmish about…rocks? Sect border trees? Or…hills? What the fuck are these old goats even arguing about? Jingyi makes an executive decision and starts forward. He’s going to come up with something—he doesn’t know what yet—to distract the gaggle of sect leaders to give Master Qiren a chance to escape. This is the first Cultivation Conference where Jingyi has been allowed into the actual meeting and he totally meant to learn and listen and all that shit but it’s so mind-numbingly boring. How do people stand these things? Even Hanguang-jun’s face looks stonier than usual but that might just be Sect Leader Yao. He tends to have that effect on people.
He’s barely taken three steps when a loud voice wails, ”Lan Zhaaaan!”
”Yiling Patriarch!” The minor sect leaders gasp in unison (sounding very much like a thoroughly scandalized, old auntie) and watch with greed-tinged horror as Senior Wei flails across the hall and straight to Hanguang-jun. He winks at Jingyi as he walks by, inclining his head ever-so-slightly at Master Qiren.
”Lan Zhan! You left this morning without a kiss! Is this how you treat your husband? How cruel!”
Uncaring of the audience that looks on with morbid fascination, Senior Wei sashays his way up to the dais and stops in front of Hanguang-jun, looking up at him with a frankly ridiculous pout.
”My apologies,” Hanguang-jun says, reaching out to Senior Wei who takes his hand and folds into his lap like the delicate maiden he definitely is not.
And then Hanguang-jun kisses him. Right then and there. With tongue.
(Jingyi tries to tell people that Sizhui learned to be a little shit from somewhere way back before Wei Wuxian resurrected but no one believes him. Ha. The joke’s on them. Losers.)
Behind the outraged sect leaders (and one put-upon Sandu Shengshou who rolls his eyes so hard it would hurt if he didn’t practice it with admirable diligence), Jingyi weaves his way to Master Qiren. He feels eyes on the back of his neck, glances over his shoulder, and is in no way surprised to see Senior Wei’s smile and Hanguang-jun’s barely perceptible nod. Jingyi ducks his head and hurries to Master Qiren who has gone slightly pale. It might or might not be related to his headache.
It says a lot that Master Qiren stands up without a protest, merely mutters under his breath as Jingyi escorts him out of the hall. It’s the familiar complaint of Wei Wuxian’s shamelessness and how he’s corrupted Wangji and whatnot, but it’s fondly exasperated and doesn’t fool Jingyi even a bit.
Sometimes Jingyi wonders if Master Qiren and Senior Wei really think other people to be so blind as to not realize how much they actually like each other. Or perhaps it’s just Jingyi who notices these things.
But perhaps it’s too fantastical a friendship to cross anyone’s mind; Senior Wei who is awesome and doesn’t give a shit about what other people think about him (which isn’t actually true but Jingyi pretends it is because it makes Senior Wei feel better) and Master Qiren who is uptight and a stickler to the rules and complains about excessive emoting (which also isn’t actually true…and makes Jingyi wonder who taught Hanguang-jun to be a little shit).
”You should lay down, Master Qiren,” Jingyi says softly as he guides Master Qiren into his quarters and lights only one, small candle on the table.
”Absolutely shameless,” Master Qiren slurs, his headache taking over now that he’s safely shielded from prying eyes.
”Yeah, he’s so cool,” Jingyi says absently as he takes out the pins in Master Qiren’s hair to remove his hairpiece and wonders what it would feel like to command corpses.
”Terrible boy,” Master Qiren mutters, settling on his back with a barely stifled sigh of relief. ”Too thin. He should eat more.”
The last thing Jingyi hears as he leaves is a huffed, ”’Yiling Patriarch’. Bah.”
Hm.
When he grows up, Jingyi wants to be a Yiling Patriarch too.
(…that had sounded better in his head.)