Work Text:
In hindsight, Yanqing was probably doomed the minute he raised his hand in his exchange class.
“Yes?” says the professor.
“So I know this class is about summoning non-linear objects for combat purposes,” Yanqing starts. “But what about non-combat items? Could you summon things like fireworks to cause a visual spectacle without any environmental consequences? Maybe even tangible things like furniture? Also, Professor, is your stone head a summon too? Is that why it fits over your head and you can still breathe, because it’s a non-linear object created via Imaginary?”
The professor turns to look at him. Yanqing suddenly gets the very strong feeling that he is being glared at through a layer of stone. “Do you think yourself intelligent?”
“Well, the General says I’m very smart.”
The professor hurls a piece of chalk at his face. Yanqing yelps and barely manages to dodge in time.
“Your General,” says the professor, whose head is still encased in a giant block of rock, “doesn’t know shit.”
Yanqing closes his mouth. He sits back down.
“Now that our interruption is dealt with, we will return to the course material which you all registered to educate yourselves on.”
…And he thought the teachers on the Luofu were mean.
***
“I think my professor wants to kill me,” Yanqing tells his new classmates as they walk off campus into the town to get lunch. He’s made three new friends. One of them, Rappa, is a full-time student who transferred from Paperfold Uni a couple years ago. The others, Sushang and Qingque, are on the Cloud Exchange program with him. It’s not exactly knight training, but the General likes the idea of expanding the Luofu’s education.
“Well damn!” says Rappa, sounding delighted by this development. “Sounds like you have to retaliate, Ninja Icesurfer! Act before they have the chance!”
“With ninjutsu?” asks Yanqing, a little skeptically. “Really? I mean, I do want to pass the class.”
Rappa frowns and concedes this point with a shrug.
“Your professor doesn’t want to kill you,” Sushang reassures him, clapping him on the back way too hard. Yanqing jumps—she’s pretty damn strong. “What happened, anyway?”
“He insulted the General.”
All three of his new friends are quiet for ten full steps.
“And?” says Sushang.
“And what?” says Yanqing. “He insulted the General.”
More silence.
“That’s tantamount to a death threat in my books,” says Yanqing.
“HOLY SHIT,” says Qingque.
“WHAT,” says Sushang, craning her neck over to look at Qingque’s phone.
Qingque sighs heavily. “Never mind. I thought it was turning gold but it was just blue. No five stars for me.” She puts her phone back in her pocket.
Yanqing had thought she was outraged about the general’s insult, not her gacha game luck. Feeling a little miffed, he says, “He called the general dumb. I can’t let that slide.”
Qingque glances at him skeptically. “Your professor did?”
“YES,” Yanqing cries, throwing up his hands. “That’s what I’ve been SAYING for the last three minutes.”
“Ninja Icesurfer, you need to take this to the battleground of every student ninja and have a proper showdown to reclaim the good name of your General.”
Yanqing blinks.
“Office hours,” Rappa clarifies.
“Oh. Right.” Then he narrows his eyes at her. “Wait. That’s… a good idea??”
“I’m actually really smart,” Rappa says, popping her bubble gum. “I was made in a lab and shit and then I escaped and became a ninja. Also I’m a Galaxy Ranger.”
Yanqing doesn’t quite know what to say to that. No matter how weird Rappa might be, there’s no way she’s actually an escaped lab specimen. She looks pretty normal. At least once you get past the ninja thing. And she’s too young to be a Galaxy Ranger. He thinks. “…Right.”
Qingque finally glances up from her phone and squints in confusion at the road they’re walking on. “What are we having for lunch?”
“I dunno,” says Yanqing.
“Ehh,” says Sushang.
“A ninja always eats what they must to keep their body functioning at peak condition,” says Rappa.
Qingque raises her eyebrows. “You guys don’t know.”
A little guiltily, all three of them nod.
“So then where, exactly, have we been going for the last ten minutes?”
***
All ninja nonsense aside, going to office hours is actually a great idea. Yanqing can’t let teachers go around insulting his General just because he’s not around—it’s his job as an apprentice swordsman to defend his master. So he goes to the student help center and says, “Can I get the office hours availability list?”
The receptionist smiles brightly. “Sure! Which teacher are you visiting during office hours?”
Yanqing pulls out his schedule and squints at the impractically long course title. “The Physics of… Advanced Combat Summoning and Fighting with Non-Linear Objects, with Professor Veritas Ratio.”
The receptionist’s good mood visibly evaporates off their face.
“What?” Yanqing asks, suddenly a little stressed.
“I can give you the office hours,” they say, as their computer prints out a timetable. “But Ratio is famous for… not following them.”
“Oh,” says Yanqing. That seems a little odd. “So then what are his office hours?”
“That’s the thing. He doesn’t have any.”
Yanqing frowns.
“I know,” says the receptionist, despair in their voice. “I was in his aeon-independent theology class. Trust me, I know.”
“I have a personal grudge to settle with him. It’s very important.”
“Half the school has a personal grudge with him. I don’t think you’re gonna be the one person who manages to get hold of him and actually talk it out.” They hand the now-dry printed schedule of office hours to Yanqing with an apologetic smile. “Here’s his official office hours. You can check, but he probably won’t be there.”
Yanqing takes the piece of paper with fresh determination. “Thank you. I’ll take a look.”
The printout says that Prof. Veritas Ratio, Ph.D., hosts office hours three times a week in his office on the seventh floor. Today is one of the days he’s supposed to be open. But Yanqing doesn’t bother going to his office. No—the General trained him better than that. One does not fight on the enemy’s turf. One fights where the enemy least expects it.
So Yanqing finds himself a good bush by the parking lot. A big bush. An inconspicuous bush. A bush with a good view of the exits of campus. And he clambers in.
And waits.
And waits.
And waits.
***
To: Yunli
i think prof actually lives in this building wtf
From: Yunli
YANQING
SHUT THE FUCK UP
ITS 4 AM
I HAVE TRAINING
IN 2 HOURS
I SHOULD BE ASLEEP
To: Yunli
why are u texting me back
From: Yunli
SHUT THE FUCK UP
To: Yunli
u already said that
From: Yunli
NO I DIDNT
ANYWAY ITS ALREADY 4 AM
MAYBE I GOT UP EARLY 2 DO MY MAKEUP
To: Yunli
u dont wear makeup
From: Yunli
YOURE NOT EVEN HERE
HOW WOULD YOU KNOW
To: Yunli
[Screenshot of a text message from approximately one week ago: “I WOULD RATHER DIE THAN WEAR MAKEUP”]
From: Yunli
SILENCE PLEBEIAN
To: Yunli
shhh i think i see prof
hes going to the bike rack
From: Yunli
JUMP HIM
JUMP HIM
JUMP HIM
To: Yunli
girl
From: Yunli
JUMP HIM
JUMP HIM
JUMP HIM
JUMP HIM
YANQING WHY ARENT YOU REPLYING
YANQING
YANQING ARE YOU OK
To: Yunli
chalk
through the bush
to the face
From: Yunli
YOU WERE IN A BUSH?
LOLOLOLOL LOSER
***
“In the bush,” Ratio says, sounding appalled, as Yanqing gingerly extracts leaves from his hair. “That’s a new low. What in Nous’ name were you doing in there? I can’t imagine this is some Xianzhou tradition that I’m unfamiliar with.”
“Uh,” says Yanqing, because how is he supposed to say he was trying to spy on him? It’s not like he expected it to work. “I wanted to talk to you?”
“A class-related inquiry?” Ratio asks, without even looking at him. Apparently securing his bike lock to his messenger bag is more interesting than the conversation he’s actively having.
“Yeah,” says Yanqing. “It’s about the General.”
Ratio’s nose scrunches. “I don’t have time to engage in discussion with idiots.”
“The General isn’t an idiot,” Yanqing tells him furiously. “That’s the whole point! You need to apologize. Or else I’ll tell him you said that he’s an idiot, and he’ll end Cloud Exchange and you’ll never get another Xianzhou student here ever again.”
“If they’re all like you, all the better. Goodbye.”
And with that, Ratio removes his bicycle from the rack and begins cycling away.
“WAIT!”
Ratio doesn’t slow down. If anything, he pedals faster.
Yanqing can’t let him get away. He doesn’t think about the rules or the regulations or the university’s policy on vehicles. He grits his teeth and summons an ice sword and hops on.
“YOU CAN’T LEAVE YET,” Yanqing yells, swinging the sword to a halt in front of Ratio’s bike to block his path.
But the blocking isn’t necessary. The professor has already ground to a halt at the sight of the sword Yanqing is standing on. The statue vanishes from his face. His newly-revealed eyes are wide.
Yanqing didn’t think he’d get this far. Suddenly he feels nervous. “Uh,” he says, buffering for time. “So about the Gener—”
“You summoned these?” Ratio asks, already hopping off the bike. He reaches out to touch the edge of the frigid sword, running his finger along the ice blade. “Fascinating. I’ve only seen non-linear summoned objects in association with Imaginary. To think that other Elements may hold the same necessary properties…”
“Ice,” Yanqing blurts. “Um. I’m aligned with Ice.”
“And yet they are not condensed out of the water in the air, but rather made of an entirely different substance provided by the Ice alignment itself.”
“Yeah,” says Yanqing, a little excited despite himself. “My master’s master taught me how to summon these. She was a swordmaster of the Xianzhou Luofu seven hundred years ago. Her famed technique was creating ice where there was no water to be frozen. It’s based on the principle of states of matter. So if you know that Ice can make things from liquid into solid, you can condense a non-linear solid from the idea of the power.”
Belatedly Yanqing realizes that Ratio’s curious gaze has slid from the ice sword he summoned to his face. “Fascinating,” Ratio says slowly. “And here I thought you were an idiot like the rest of them.”
His face flushes hot. “There’s a reason I wanted to take your class,” he mumbles, scuffing his feet a little as he returns to the ground.
“Your questions in class were motivated not by hostility, but by a curiosity stemming from base knowledge and experience that most students lack. I am afraid I misjudged you.”
“It’s fine,” Yanqing says sheepishly, un-summoning his ice swords. His face is probably on fire. “I am a little stupid. You didn’t misjudge that badly.”
Ratio walks his bike in silence for another ten steps. Yanqing is going the same direction anyway, back to the Cloud Exchange apartments, so he walks alongside him.
“Do you have prior engagements tonight?” asks Ratio suddenly.
“Uh.” Is this a test? Is he supposed to say he’s going to a party or something? “No,” he says truthfully. “I… was gonna have dinner, I guess.”
“Excellent,” Ratio says. “Come with me.”
“What?” says Yanqing.
“To dinner.”
“What?” says Yanqing again.
“You may come with me to dinner.”
“What?” says Yanqing a third time.
Ratio heaves a world-weary sigh as he takes out his phone, already typing a text message to some illegible profile. “I’ll have him pick us up. He won’t be long.”
Yanqing stands there, petrified. He is getting kidnapped. Kidnapped. By his own professor. His professor who wants to kill him.
To: Yunli
this might be it for me
From: Yunli
YANQING
YOURE ALIVE
WAIT WHAT
YANQING
YANQING
YANQING
ANSWER YOUR DAMN PHONE
LITTLE RAT BASTARD
***
“—And this discovery has completely revolutionized my view of the application of the class,” Ratio is saying. “I had previously envisioned that this field of study was limited to individuals like you and I—that is to say, Imaginary users—yet it appears that Ice is also capable of such feats. However, it uses different principles to create non-linear objects, and requires different mental training in the user than Imaginary does. This raises questions about other Elements. For example, could Lightning users summon objects by envisioning interrupted currents flowing through the air?”
“That’s great, babe,” says the blond driving the eight-million-credit sports car. “Quick question. Who the fuck is that?”
“Yeah,” says Yanqing from the backseat. “Who the fuck is that?”
“Rude,” says the blond. “I’m his booty call.”
Ratio makes quite possibly the most exasperated sigh Yanqing has ever heard. “This,” he says, “is Aventurine of Stratagems, one of the Ten Stonehearts of the Interastral Peace Corporation.”
“Wow,” says the blond—Aventurine, apparently. “Full title. What happened to you, Doctor?”
Yanqing stares at him, baffled. “Like, the IPC Stonehearts??”
“Yeah,” says Aventurine. “Have you heard of me? All lies, I promise.” He flashes Yanqing a distractingly shiny smile in the rearview mirror. He’s got the most beautiful teeth Yanqing has ever seen. Like a toothpaste advertisement or something.
“Eyes,” says Ratio, “on the road, Gambler.”
Aventurine hastily turns back around.
“I’m Yanqing,” says Yanqing, because they haven’t actually gotten to that part yet. “Disciple of Arbiter-General Jing Yuan of the Xianzhou Luofu.”
“Oh! I remember him,” Aventurine says cheerfully. “He beat up Sunday in the dream. The Lightning guy. Giant electric lion.”
Yanqing blinks. What the fuck? How do you beat up a day of the week? Also, when did the General do that??
“Ah,” says Ratio, like this sentence makes complete sense. “I should apologize. Your General may know something after all.”
“THANK you,” says Yanqing, vindicated.
The car pulls into the parking lot of… a mall? Yanqing stares at the signs above them. A nice mall. Yanqing doesn’t think this place is within his budget, and he’s got a pretty damn big budget, considering he’s the General’s sole beneficiary. “Uh,” he starts.
“We’re buying you something to wear,” says Aventurine, before he can ask.
Yanqing looks down at his clothes. They’re fine. His white pants aren’t even dusty or anything. “Is there something wrong with them?”
“No! No, of course not,” Aventurine says, giving him that winning smile again. The smile is a little too winning. Suspicious.
“You will be kicked out of the establishment for wearing that,” Ratio tells him.
“Oh.” Yanqing looks down at his clothes again. “Um, what should I wear, then?”
Aventurine’s smile sharpens into something sparkling, white, and threatening. “Thirty minutes,” he declares, like a bomb countdown. “Give me thirty minutes.”
***
Aventurine buys a suit. A beautiful maroon suit with white accents and gold shoulder embroidery. It’s exactly Yanqing’s size. Yanqing stares at it in confusion. “You want me to wear that?”
“Uh huh,” says Aventurine.
It’s a gorgeous suit. It looks suspiciously custom-made. Aventurine was only gone for twenty-five minutes. Yanqing hasn’t even finished his cup of frozen yogurt yet. “What if it doesn’t fit?”
“It will,” says Aventurine with terrifying confidence. “I booked a changing room. You can go put it on.”
Yanqing has run out of complaints, so he follows Aventurine into the store he emerged from and makes a valiant effort not to look at any prices. Aventurine leads him to a full-length door, hands him the garment bag, and then disappears with a wave.
Yanqing opens the door with mild trepidation. The changing room is bigger than his entire bedroom at the General’s house. The ceiling has not one, not two, but three chandeliers. There’s fucking red velvet carpeting. Yanqing looks at himself in the floor-length mirror and thinks, I am too poor for this.
True to his word, the suit fits perfectly. Yanqing has never owned a suit before—he always dresses in Xianzhou clothes if he has to attend a formal event—but he can tell, the minute he puts it on, that this is how a suit is supposed to fit. Yanqing buttons up the jacket and has the vague thought that he looks sort of like the General. It scares and excites him in equal measure.
When he emerges from the giant room, Ratio and Aventurine are both standing there. The professor looks at him appraisingly, then nods. “It’ll do,” he says, which feels completely and utterly underwhelming.
Aventurine throws up his hands. “Come on, Doctor. Give me a little more credit. I saw the kid one time, while driving the car, and I got the size exactly right. And I managed to wrangle the Jing Yuan color scheme. You gotta admit it’s good.”
“It is acceptable.”
“Ughghgh,” says Aventurine. “I hate you.”
“I think it’s pretty impressive,” Yanqing pipes up as they start walking back through the mall.
“Thanks, kid,” says Aventurine, with that unnervingly perfect smile again. He bumps his shoulder into Ratio’s. “At least someone around here appreciates my talents.”
Ratio shoots Aventurine a glare that makes Yanqing break out into a cold sweat, and he’s not even the recipient. “You and I both know your true talents lie elsewhere.”
Aventurine just laughs, somehow completely unaffected. “I thought you despised luck games?”
“Not poker. The chips.”
“Oh, these?” With a snap of his fingers, he summons a poker chip. It falls perfectly on top of Yanqing’s head.
“OW,” Yanqing says, glaring at him.
“Sorry,” says Aventurine, not sounding sorry at all. Then, leaning in a little closer, he says, “Ratio’s been on this summoning kick lately. You probably figured that out from the thing with your ice swords, huh? He won’t shut up about this stuff. This is how he keeps accidentally getting more doctorates. He gets into some random research niche, and then people say, Damn, wow, we didn’t know that, and hand him more degrees.”
“I can hear you, Gambler.”
“Nuh uh,” says Aventurine. He flicks a poker chip at Ratio’s eye. Ratio blocks it by summoning his stone statue face.
Before they reach the doors, Aventurine turns into another store and heads confidently for the central reception. It’s a jewelry store. Ratio waits outside, so Yanqing follows suit, watching Aventurine interact animatedly with the clerk. He emerges again two minutes later with a small blue velvet bag. “Here,” he says, chucking a tiny box at Ratio. “Put it on.”
Ratio opens the box. One of his eyebrows twitches upwards, but he doesn’t say anything. He takes out the biggest diamond ring Yanqing has ever seen in his entire life and slips it onto his left ring finger without hesitation. Next to him, Aventurine is putting on the second biggest diamond ring Yanqing has ever seen in his life.
“Uh,” says Yanqing, just in case he’s mistaken. “Are those engagement rings?”
“Yes,” says Ratio, and then he starts walking again.
Yanqing hurries to catch up with him. “But…”
“We’re not actually engaged,” Aventurine tells him, which answers his question, but raises at least three more.
Yanqing can’t wrap his head around this entire day. If only he had just decided to let the insult against the General slide. If only he had just followed the office hours pamphlet. As Aventurine unlocks the car, he tries to ask, “But you—”
Aventurine clicks his tongue. “Yanqing,” he sighs, shaking his head. “Don’t you know better than to distract someone while they’re driving? Maybe I’ll crash the car. Will your insurance pay for this thing? Eight million credits. Plus I’m pretty sure my dear Doctor is worth at least six billion. Not to mention me. I’m eighty-nine-point-one billion, as of this morning.”
Yanqing is pretty sure listing off all that is more distracting than his question, but he doesn’t really feel like asking after all that. Instead, he fastens his seat belt and shuts up.
***
“—And this is my husband, Veritas, and our son, Yanqing. I know, he looks so much like me! All of Veritas’ genes went to his intellect, thankfully. He’s studying on the Xianzhou Luofu—swordplay, you know how it is with the youth—I wish I had that energy. Ah, yes—Yanqing, dear, this is Madam Sonjahaya, the president of the Sleepless Earl Corporation.”
“Sleepless Earl?” Yanqing asks, before he can think better of it. “Do you make Immortal’s Delight?”
The handsome woman in front of him smiles. “Why, yes—do you enjoy it?”
“Do I enjoy it?” Yanqing asks, incredulous. “I love Immortal’s Delight. I don’t think I’ve gone a single day without drinking Immortal’s Delight since I’ve been on the Luofu.”
Sonjahaya’s smile grows. She shakes his hand delightedly. “Your son flatters me,” she says to Aventurine, sounding delighted about it.
Aventurine laughs, a tiny little bird-chirp that lingers in the air around him. “He’s been talking about it nonstop,” he says in an undertone, like he’s confiding a secret to her. “It’s why I pushed for this collaboration, actually—I had to try Immortal’s Delight for myself after all of Yanqing’s enthusiasm.”
“That’s so lovely,” Sonjahaya gushes. “Of course I’d love to spread our beverages further, if it would help connect families like yours.”
“I’m so glad to hear that,” says Aventurine. His teeth are somehow even shinier than before, glimmering exactly like the champagne glass in his hand. “Oh, the server is here. Darling, what did you want again?”
“The filet mignon,” Ratio says. “And another whiskey. The 245 Amber Eras vintage, if you don’t mind.”
“Perfect,” says Aventurine. “And you, dear?”
Yanqing realizes with a start that Aventurine is addressing him. Suddenly he’s a little stressed about his order. “Um… salmon? And a vegetable carpaccio?”
“And?” says Aventurine.
“…And a beluga caviar,” says Yanqing more confidently than he feels. “And a virgin raspberry mojito, and a milk tea tiramisu with lemon cream.”
Aventurine gives him a tiny nod. “Excellent.”
Yanqing feels like he just got back a test with a hundred in the corner. He has never been so thankful to have a menu taken away from him.
For the rest of the dinner Aventurine pulls out a contract and begins negotiating it right there on the table. Yanqing follows Ratio’s example and keeps his mouth shut while Aventurine flashes his bright-white grin. He just sits there and drinks his virgin raspberry mojito and eats his salmon. It’s the best goddamn salmon he’s ever had.
The contract is signed by the time Yanqing’s tiramisu arrives. There’s some more hand-shaking, and pleasantries, and then they are mercifully left alone again.
“You are good at this, Yanqing,” Aventurine tells him when the car is driven back up to them at the valet. “God damn. I can’t believe the shit I got away with in that contract. The IPC should pay you a salary for that.”
Yanqing is pretty sure that dinner cost more than everything he owns put together. “Should you be driving after you drank all that champagne?”
Aventurine snorts. His real laugh is so different from that bird chirp in the restaurant. “Kid, it was apple cider.” As he shifts into drive, he leans over his shoulder to ask, “Do you really like Immortal’s Delight?”
“No,” Yanqing admits. “I fucking hate it.”
Aventurine laughs and laughs.
“Eyes,” says Ratio, sounding exasperated, “on the fucking road, Gambler.”
***
To: Yunli
genuinely just had the most expensive meal of my life
From: Yunli
SO IT WAS LIKE TWENTY BUCKS
To: Yunli
no
From: Yunli
GET IT
CAUSE YOURE BROKE
To: Yunli
an ipc exec just bought me a half million credit dinner
From: Yunli
LMAO NO THEY DIDNT
YOU DONT KNOW ANY IMPORTANT PEOPLE
To: Yunli
excuse u
general jing yuan the divine foresight is very important
From: Yunli
HES YOUR DAD
HE DOESNT COUNT
To: Yunli
hes not my dad
i just live in his house
and he pays for all my stuff
and i guess legally hes my guardian
but hes not my dad
From: Yunli
LOL
DAD HAVER
GET FATHERED IDIOT
To: Yunli
i guess technically the ipc exec is my dad too now
From: Yunli
LOL
DOUBLE DAD HAVER
GET DOUBLE FATHERED IDIOT
To: Yunli
three fathers actually
prof is also technically my dad now
From: Yunli
DAMN
SAVE SOME 4 THE REST OF US
***
“Your boyfriend is kind of cool,” Yanqing tells the professor after class the next day. He’s staying late so they can discuss his ice swords. Maybe this is why Ratio never follows his office hours.
“Ah,” says Ratio, not even looking up from the papers on his desk. “Aventurine isn’t my boyfriend.”
“Oh,” says Yanqing. “I mean, I just assumed, because he said you weren’t engaged. Sorry. Your husband is kind of cool.”
This actually makes Ratio sigh. “We aren’t dating.”
“Oh,” says Yanqing again.
“We’ve only hooked up fifty-one times.”
“Uh,” says Yanqing.
“And we’re only exclusive because it’s easier to not get tested so frequently.”
“Um,” says Yanqing.
“And I only saved his life that one time because he’s a valuable partner.”
“I mean,” says Yanqing.
“And we only disguise ourselves as lovers because it lowers people’s guard when negotiating contracts.”
“Yeah, I guess,” says Yanqing.
“And I’m in love with him.”
“Oh,” says Yanqing.
“You did well in class today,” says Ratio, looking up at him like nothing ever happened. “I’ll be looking forward to your end-of-course thesis. Keep up the good work.”
“…Thanks,” says Yanqing.
Ratio writes something in red ink on the paper he’s been reading. It looks like a scathing contradiction tearing apart the student’s entire argument. Yanqing feels a little sweaty all of a sudden.
“Are you free on Saturday?” asks Ratio eventually. “Aventurine is settling a contract with the CEO of the Linda-III oil company. Do you like Taikiyan food?”
“……Yeah?”
“Excellent,” says Ratio. “He’ll pick us up at six p.m. Be here at quarter to six—Aventurine hates being late.”
“………Professor, can you drive?”
“……………No.”
***
“I think my professor wants to kill me,” says Yanqing.
“You already told us that,” Sushang says. “Last week. Is it still about the General?”
“No, he apologized about the General comment. I just think he genuinely wants to kill me now.”
“Well,” says Rappa with a shrug. “You know what to do, Ninja Icesurfer.”
Yanqing sighs. He’s starting to consider it, at this point. “Are any of you free on Saturday?”
“Nope,” Rappa says, popping the ‘p’ like her bubble gum. “Me and Silvergun Shura have weekly ninja bonding. I think he’s bringing Dragon Ninja Aoi Dan Heng too.”
Sushang blinks, raising her eyebrows. “You know Dan Heng?”
“You know Dan Heng?” Yanqing asks, increasingly baffled.
“Yeah,” says Rappa. “He went to school with me at Paperfold Uni.”
“He beat me up,” Yanqing says. “Twice.”
“You probably deserved it,” says Sushang, matter-of-fact.
Yanqing sighs. She’s right, but she didn’t have to say it. “Anyway, so my professor wants me to, like, have dinner with him and his not-boyfriend and pretend to be their son. For business reasons. I mean, it’s pretty fun, and the General says I need to learn diplomacy, so it’s probably good for me to watch negotiations. But it’s still kind of weird. Especially since I’m, like, not their son. And they’re not even dating. Probably. They might be dating. I really can’t tell. I think they’re hooking up? But like, exclusively?”
“HOLY SHIT,” says Qingque.
“WHAT,” says Sushang.
“Never mind,” says Qingque, sounding greatly pained. On her phone, the wish animation plays out. “Three star again.”
Yanqing sighs. Beaten yet again by his friends’ gambling addiction.
***
To: Yunli
i need better friends
From: Yunli
DAMN YANQING
NO NEED 2 DISRESPECT ME LIKE THAT
To: Yunli
youre my friend?
From: Yunli
HUH
NO
SHUT THE FUCK UP
To: Yunli
were friends?
From: Yunli
SHUT THE FUCK UP
MAYBE A LITTLE
To: Yunli
do u think im cool
From: Yunli
I MEAN
YOURE OKAY
I GUESS
To: Yunli
i think ur cool too yunli
From: Yunli
WELL
YOURE A WORTHY OPPONENT
OR SOMETHING
To: Yunli
do u miss me
From: Yunli
DONT PUSH YOUR LUCK
RAT BASTARD
To: Yunli
we can spar when i get back
From: Yunli
I DONT EVEN MISS YOU
BITCH
To: Yunli
uh huh
From: Yunli
I HOPE YOURE HAVING FUN
OR WHATEVER
ON YOUR CLOUD EXCHANGE
To: Yunli
its been pretty odd
had that whole experience with prof
and now im pretending to be his son
and i dont know if hes dating this guy or not
but u know what
i think i am having fun
From: Yunli
THATS ALL THAT REALLY MATTERS ISNT IT
To: Yunli
yeah
u know what ur right
im having fun and im learning things
thats all that matters
thank u yunli
From: Yunli
IM WINNING
WHEN WE SPAR
BTW
To: Yunli
lmao
in ur dreams!!!!!!!