Chapter Text
The casino is already crowded when Lan Xichen arrives. It's a spacious building, and right now every one of the four floors is filled with people talking, drinking, and of course clustered around the betting tables. For Lan Xichen it is enough to show his face, which immediately grants him access to the top floor. Everyone below is a mixture of customers and small fish, hoping to get an entry point or some small favour from the Wen. The top floor, tonight, is for the invited guests of Wen Ruohan, his peers and his rivals alike. All the major powers of the city will be there.
Tonight everyone is dressed in red and black suits and dresses, a gesture of polite deference to the colours of the Wen. And a show of strength that shows just how much Wen Ruohan's influence over the city has grown. For months now, the balance has been as delicate as spidersilk, ready to snap. Already, some of the smaller groups have been destroyed by the Wen. Territory boundaries are shifting. Most likely every one of the guests tonight is wondering when the day will come that the Wen decide all the other clans are no longer necessary.
Lan Xichen has been expecting this, or something like it, for close to seven years, ever since Wen Ruohan consolidated his power in his own clan and began to show signs of a hunger for more. If none of the others have prepared, well, that is their own failure. Lan Xichen will not see the Lan lose what is theirs by right, and he has been making his preparations for a long time.
The crowd parts before him, a sea of polite masks and greetings. Some of them allies, some of them enemies. None trustworthy, and none reliable. Many of the clans have come in little groups, sending multiple representatives. As if that illusion of numbers would show strength or protect them if Wen Ruohan really did decide to destroy them tonight.
Lan Xichen has it on good authority that there is no danger of that tonight. It is merely meant to be a show of strength, a test for demonstrating the fear and loyalty the Wen feel they are owed. It is the reason Lan Xichen left his younger brother behind. Lan Wangji is the best killer the Lan have, perhaps the most deadly person in the city. But he is not a diplomat, and Lan Xichen is not sure his brother's pride could bear the humiliation expected of them tonight.
No, better to come alone than to risk Wangji offending someone right here and upsetting the fragile peace. They are not ready for this, not yet. And Lan Xichen is not entirely without support in this room.
Wen Ruohan has not even arrived yet, and likely will not show until much later. Much better to keep everyone waiting. Instead, Lan Xichen gives his greetings to Wen Chao, who inherited all the cruelty and none of the intelligence of his family. If the Wen were ruled by him, Lan Xichen would have destroyed them at their first provocation, and barely broken a sweat while doing so. But Wen Ruohan is a different animal entirely, cunning and ambitious, and clever enough to gather all sorts of dangerous people around him with promises of power. It is possible to rise high and fast within the ranks of the Wen, if one is clever, and cunning, and ruthless enough to please their leader.
"Lan Xichen", says the quiet voice of one who has done just that, and earned the envy and hatred of half the people in this room for his success. Meng Yao looks small and deceptively soft, as always. Today his suit is a deep red, the colour of fresh blood spilling from an open wound. If there is any truth to the rumours of how he earned Wen Ruohan's favour and his place with the Wen, then by all rights his hands should be drenched in blood too. But of course he is entirely neat, perfectly put together. A beautiful dagger, softly sheathed and awaiting the command of his master.
"Meng Yao", Lan Xichen greets him, and does not allow any of his thoughts to rise behind his polite and fixed smile.
"Black suits you", Meng Yao says, and his smile is sharp and mocking. "You should wear it more often. A much better colour than blue and white, wouldn't you agree?"
It is an insult, and a sharp reminder of the show all the guests are putting on tonight. Dressing in Wen colours, like baring their throats to Wen Ruohan and hoping he will show them mercy. Lan Xichen's smile does not waver, but he makes sure that his eyes are cold and disapproving above it.
"Easy to say for someone who is able to switch colours so easily", Lan Xichen, and ensures that his words carry to the surrounding people. "It does seem to me the mark of a person who does not know their proper place in the world."
It is, of course, the insult that people have flung at Meng Yao over and over, throughout his entire life. That does not lessen the sting of it, and for an instant his mask slips and his eyes flash black with murder. The nearest onlookers draw back, tense in anticipation of a fight. Everyone is watching the exchange, with varying degrees of being obvious about it.
Lan Xichen breathes, and does not think about anything beyond the next step in this dance.
"Oh, I assure you that the Wen clan will be happy to provide a lesson on knowing one's proper place tonight", Meng Yao tells him. Now his voice is sweet, and more threatening for it. "I would advise you to pay careful attention to it."
He leaves Lan Xichen there, surrounding by a circle of people keeping a careful step away. Lan Xichen watches his retreating back, his smile warring with a look of furious disdain.
There is an art to being a truly excellent liar. It requires more than pretense – at any given moment, it means truly living in the false identity one has constructed, while a more hidden part of the self lies below, silent and watchful. It is why Wangji is terrible at it, for all his self-control. He can offer the world a blank mask of control, but he has never been anyone but himself. Lan Xichen, one the other hand, has been careful and meticulous in his crafting of the face he shows to the world. Tonight he is the Lan clan leader, reluctantly loyal, as hateful and yet cowed by Wen Ruohan as the rest of them. He is very good at becoming this version of himself. If he was not, if any of the Wen ever had an inkling of that other, hidden version of Lan Xichen, he would be dead by now. His home would be burned to the ground, his family tortured.
He does not think any of these thoughts either, as he passes the evening.
It goes as expected, more or less. Wen Ruohan remains poised at a knife's edges as he provokes the other clans yet does not openly move against them. Afterwards, Lan Xichen makes his way outside, steps as measured as on arrival.
At the narrow point of the left side entrance, he steps politely aside to let the Jin clan leader step through first. His newest mistress is hanging from his arm, giggling and apparently undaunted after spending an evening in a room filled with criminals. She looks barely twenty, but there must be cunning hidden behind her vacant smile if she secured a place at Jin Guangshan's side tonight.
Lan Xichen makes a note to look into her, once the clan leader's interest inevitably wears off. Sometimes ambitious people can be recruited for the purposes of the Lan - if they survive falling out of favour with the Jin.Her dress is red and gold, and Lan Xichen steps back further to avoid its trailing edge. There are potted plants against the walls here.
Lan Xichen breathes, and smiles, and thinks of nothing at all as his hand reaches down and finds the USB stick at the edge of the pot. It vanishes into his pocket, and he leaves the Wen casino soon after.
Lan Xichen only lets himself even think about the data in his pocket once he is behind five walls of the main Lan complex. Stripping out of the black suit feels like peeling of the layers of that mask he wore.
Of course, he has yet another role to play here, as leader of the Lan. But it is a role he has played for many years now, a position he always knew he would inhabit, and it worn so smooth with time that sometimes it feels like this is perhaps, his true self instead of merely the part he performs most often. As he decrypts the data of the USB stick and begins to read through the carefully labelled contents, Lan Xichen wonders what Meng Yao thinks of as his true self.
For two years, they have performed this dance, and Lan Xichen has never seen the smallest crack in Meng Yao's mask in public. Even when they first met in secret to broker this alliance, Meng Yao showed him a different face, just as flawlessly constructed. Lan Xichen is almost sure that he has never seen an emotion in this man that Meng Yao has not wanted him too see. Wangji, who has a fierce dislike of the entire plan, had once demanded to know how Lan Xichen could possibly trust a man who was a proven traitor, liar and murderer.
Yet Lan Xichen does not need to trust in Meng Yao's loyalty, or even his intentions. Their trust in each other is naked blade, pressed against each other's throats. If Lan Xichen let slip to Wen Ruohan any hint of the spy among his followers who has been passing information, Meng Yao would die a long and excruciating death. If Meng Yao went to his clan leader with details of the Lan plans against the Wen, Lan Xichen would see his home burned to the ground, his entire family dead. They both have much to lose, but more to gain.
"I will not let you kill him just so you can assume his place at the top", Lan Xichen had said, on their fourth meeting, after Meng Yao had been bringing him priceless intel for close to four months. After Lan Xichen had begun to realise just how good of a spy he was, and that perhaps this plan could work.
"Of course", Meng Yao had said, his tone soft and soothing. "Don't worry - I'll see the Wen destroyed, and my position after that will make allies of the Lan clan, not subjects. This current strategy of trying to dominate all the clans is not sustainable anyway."
"Which means you want to find a subtler way of achieving the same goal", Lan Xichen had noted, since at that point he had gathered at least some knowledge about the workings of that twisty mind.
Meng Yao had smiled at him, in what looked like delighted surprise at being known. A calculated reaction, as always, but a little closer to the depths of him than usual. They were both freer what they showed one another during those meetings. A part of baring each other's throats.
"Xichen", Meng Yao said, finally, and stepped closer. "If I wanted anything like the power the Wen could offer, I would tell Wen Ruohan about you tonight, pretend to be his double agent, and gather enough proof to watch him burn the Lan to the ground, then I'd bring you in and slit your throat in front of him to prove my loyalty."
He reached out, and touched his cool fingers to Lan Xichen's throat, left them there.
Lan Xichen just watched him, reading both what Meng Yao had chosen to show in his expression, and guessing at what was hidden.
"You won't do that", Lan Xichen said, calm and certain. He did not step away. "Because you want your own power, and your position, and the Wen can never offer you anything beyond cartering to the whims of a madman."
"So clever and so fearless", Meng Yao murmured, and turned away towards the door. "I do like you much better than him already. This will work very well."
He left, after that, and they did not meet again in person since by then they had arranged secure ways to exchange information.
Still, Lan Xichen thinks back on that meeting most often, trying to decide what glimpse of a true reaction he'd been offered. Not in the touch - performance, a dance - but in that final moment when Meng Yao had turned his face away rather than show Lan Xichen anything on it. Ultimately, though, it does not matter anymore. They are in too deep in this game now, both of them, and will see it through to the end.