Fandom - Mo Dao Zu Shi
Rating - Mature
Category: M/M
Title - Perfect Illusion
Genre - Danmei, BL, Romance
Pairing: Lan Xichen/Original Male Character
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Nacre sat on the forty-second floor of a Pudong high-rise, unmarked and unlisted — the kind of place that didn't need a sign because everyone who mattered already knew where it was. Its crown jewel, the Obsidian Lounge, had curated its atmosphere to within an inch of its life—dark walls, strategic lighting, and an undercurrent of money that came from catering to Shanghai's financial elite.
In one of the premier lounges, Qing Yi sat at the center of a semicircle of expectant faces, his silver hair pulled into a ponytail that managed to look both precise and effortless. His fingers moved through a deck of cards with casual grace, though tonight those skills seemed criminally wasted.
"You see," said David Zhang, tech billionaire and recent cryptocurrency convert, his Patek Philippe catching light as he gestured, "the key is tracking dealer patterns. I've been using an AI algorithm to predict shuffling sequences."
Robert Lee, hedge fund manager turned poker enthusiast, nodded eagerly. "I've got a guy who makes contact lenses that can read infrared markers. Cost me thirty thousand for the prototype."
Qing Yi's fingers paused for a microsecond in their shuffle—the only indication these "innovations" affected him at all. He dealt cards with mechanical precision as another voice chimed in.
"My method's simpler," announced William Park, whose family owned half of Gangnam's real estate. "Tiny camera in my cufflink, team member watching from the car, feeds me information through my earpiece."
"Morse code," added someone else proudly. "Tapping my pen on the table. Works every time."
Every time, Qing Yi thought, maintaining his placid expression while internally cataloging the fundamental flaws in each approach. Against whom? Casino staff who learned dealing from YouTube tutorials?
The conversation continued, each contributor unveiling progressively more elaborate (and terminally flawed) schemes. Qing Yi made appropriate sounds of interest while his mind wandered to more sophisticated pursuits. His gaze drifted to the window, where his reflection showed a man who'd forgotten what genuine interest felt like.
"Of course, the real secret—" David began, leaning forward conspiratorially.
"Is knowing which games are worth playing in the first place."
The voice cut through the amateur hour with surgical precision. Qing Yi's attention sharpened instantly, the shift so sudden he hadn't realized how dulled his focus had become.
Wei Wuxian lounged against the doorway of their private booth with studied casualness, his dark hair artfully tousled, designer jacket hanging open. But it was his eyes—sharp, calculating, amused—that made Qing Yi's pulse quicken for the first time in months.
Their gazes met across the lounge. Years apart dissolved in a silent exchange that lasted barely a heartbeat, yet conveyed everything—a shared understanding of what real skill looked like, of how far above this room's pay grade they both operated.
"Amateur mistakes are always the same," Wei Wuxian continued, addressing the group but keeping his attention on Qing Yi.
"Complex solutions to simple problems. The best marks don't realize they've been played until the dealer's already three countries away."
David shifted, clearly unsettled by the interruption. "And you are?"
"Someone who's watched too many talented people waste potential on carnival tricks." Wei Wuxian's smile was all teeth. "Though I have to admit, the infrared contact lens idea shows initiative. Just completely impractical against anyone who knows what they're looking for."
"How would you know?" Robert challenged.
"Because," Wei Wuxian said simply, "I've been both."
Qing Yi felt something dormant stirring—not quite excitement, not yet hope, but the first whisper of genuine interest he'd felt in longer than he cared to admit.
Wei Wuxian caught his eye again, this time with clear intent. "Drink?"
Understanding the subtext perfectly, Qing Yi stood with fluid grace, already reaching for his jacket. "Gentlemen, I'm sure you'll continue improving your methods. Practice makes perfect—or at least, it brings you closer to understanding why perfection might be impossible."
He didn't wait for responses, didn't explain or excuse himself. He simply walked away, falling into step beside Wei Wuxian as they moved from the private lounge to the main bar area.
The bar stretched before them like a stage for a private performance. Qing Yi slid onto a stool, and with a gesture both casual and commanding, ordered their drinks from the bartender who immediately recognized the owner's prerogative.
Wei Wuxian grinned, that familiar gleam of mischief dancing in his eyes. "Didn't know you'd replaced me with a collection of billionaires who think they've cracked the code. I hope they've been keeping your bed warm... in my absence."
Qing Yi's expression remained neutral, though something flickered in his eyes. "Please. Their intellect couldn't simulate the most basic foreplay if it came with an instruction manual."
"If I'd known you missed me this much, I'd have stayed away longer," Wei Wuxian said, his smirk widening.
"I've been counting my blessings." Qing Yi took a deliberate sip.
With a casual gesture, Wei Wuxian signaled the bartender, who immediately poured two shots without being told what. They clinked glasses, the crystal chiming like a promise renewed.
"Ten million from the Hong Kong job." Wei Wuxian leaned in slightly. "Plus whatever you've made running this place. Not bad for someone who swore they'd never go legitimate."
Qing Yi's eyes drifted around his club—the carefully curated atmosphere, the select clientele, the subtle security measures visible only to those who knew what to look for. All of it profitable, respectable, and mind-numbingly predictable.
"It's safe. Stable. Good passive income, so I've been told," he said, the words practiced and hollow.
Wei Wuxian studied him, seeing past the perfect façade. "You look bored."
A pause hung between them, heavy with unspoken truth. Qing Yi set his glass down with deliberate care, the soft clink barely audible over the ambient music.
"I am bored," he admitted, the words carrying the weight of three years of respectability.
Wei Wuxian's grin widened as he slid a shot glass toward Qing Yi. They clinked glasses, the familiar ritual feeling like slipping into old clothes that still fit perfectly.
"Jin Guangyao called," Wei Wuxian said after they drank, his tone deliberately casual.
Qing Yi's eyes narrowed slightly. "After all this time? Interesting." There was an undercurrent of suspicion in his voice. Jin Guangyao never reached out without purpose, and rarely without a trap attached.
Wei Wuxian leaned forward slightly. "It's the Lan brothers."
Qing Yi raised an eyebrow—the first genuine reaction Wei Wuxian had earned since sitting down. "The Lans? What did Jin Guangyao want with them?"
"Not just want. Take," Wei Wuxian clarified.
Understanding flashed in Qing Yi's eyes as he immediately grasped the implications.
"Three casinos. One night," Wei Wuxian continued.
"Impossible," Qing Yi said, analytical mind already calculating angles, security measures, personnel.
"You've been saying that about my ideas since we were twenty."
"And I've been right every time."
Wei Wuxian's eyes danced with challenge. "Yet here you are, still following me into impossible situations."
Qing Yi stood, straightening his already perfect suit with a practiced motion. "Someone has to make sure you don't get yourself killed."
"Is that a yes?" Wei Wuxian asked, though they both knew the answer.
Qing Yi was already moving toward the exit. "That's a 'tell me more somewhere that isn't filled with people who might recognize you.'"
Wei Wuxian grinned, throwing money on the bar before following his old partner into the night, the familiar rhythm of their partnership resuming as if the three-year hiatus had never happened.
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— from Perfect Illusion, an MDZS modern AU where the Lan brothers run a casino empire in Macau and a team of seven specialists is hired to bring it down from the inside. Heist fiction. Slow burn. LXC x original male character.
