Chapter Text
It’s the third year in a row that one of the youth counselors from the Wen Theology Group has canceled for Camp Cloud Recesses. Lan Qiren is furious when the letter arrives.
“ Due to cumbersome circumstances ,” he spits, reading it out loud in front of Lan Zhan and his brother. “Cumbersome! Why do we still let them be part of our committee if they never attend any of the camps?”
Lan Zhan had only ever met the students of the Wen Theology Group at their quarterly, mandatory church congresses. He had found them to be rather unpleasant people. Which is why, for the third year in a row, he isn’t as upset about their lack of attendance as his uncle is.
“Should I write to the other groups?”, Lan Zhan’s brother asks. “We can open the applications on the website again, too.”
“Do what you need to do,” Lan Qiren sighs. “A-Zhan, how are the preparations coming along for Sunday mass?”
“I have finished selecting the readings and prepared the sermon,” Lan Zhan replies.
It will be one of many masses he gets to hold alongside his brother. Since he had gotten his bachelor’s degree in psychology and theology, his uncle had asked him to spend a few more years helping out at church and the annual Cloud Recesses summer camp to practice for his role as a youth pastor for the local community of Gusu.
“Uncle is strict, but if you follow his guidance, you will become an important role model for many young people in this town,” Lan Xichen had said to him, a proud and kind smile on his face as always.
For the first time, Lan Qiren had asked Lan Zhan to not only assist but lead Camp Cloud Recesses. Lan Zhan is determined to prove himself worthy of his uncle’s trust. The less unpleasant Wen counselors, the better.
“Alright,” Lan Qiren says, giving Lan Zhan a firm pat on the back, “I won’t keep you two much longer. Find a replacement for the missing counselor.”
“Mn.”
***
“Okay, so listen– I signed up for Christian youth camp today.”
“Bitch, what –?”
Wei Ying has just enough time to jerk his head back before Nie Huisang accidentally takes out his eye with the tip of his mascara brush.
“You know, I figured it was finally time to repent all of my sins. Make peace with Jesus and all that.”
The way Nie Huisang’s mouth drops makes Wei Ying fall back on the bed and giggle so hard his abs start to hurt.
“You’re so full of shit!”
“Ahahahahaha, your face! Huisang, babe– it’s for my thesis. Field research.”
Nie Huisang rolls his eyes and drops the mascara back into his make-up bag. They’re already late for Wen Qing’s dorm party and if they don’t get going soon, all of the good drinks will be gone. Med students party like they want to see the morgue from an inside-the-freezer point of view.
“Get back here, you’re still missing some gloss,” Nie huisang commands, pinching Wei Wuxian’s calf. “How the fuck did they sign off on letting someone like you attend a kumbaya camp anyway?”
Wei Ying grins, scooting closer.
“Easy. I heard that douchebag Wen Chao bitching about how he had asked his rich and influential priest daddy to bail him out of this summer camp in Gusu. I only had to dig a little to find their website – which, by the way, is written in fucking Word Art, Huisang, it was delectable – and send in a fake resume.”
He sits up, straightening his back and sweeps his fringe out of his face.
“A good and holy day to you, fellow believer! My name is Mo Xuanyu, esteeming youth pastor, and I am here to tell a bunch of horny, grubby children that they will burn in hell for googling ‘sex’ in a non-incognito tab.”
Nie Huisang snorts, shaking his head and grabbing Wei Ying’s chin to apply some of his Kylie Jenner lip gloss in the shade ‘Stop Staring’.
“And you think they won’t find out that you’re doing academic research about religion inciting cult behaviour in kids?”
“Excuse me,” Wei Ying huffs, rubbing his shiny lips together in a pout, “I’m an excellent actor. Give me a week with the bible and I’ll be the fourteenth apostle!”
“Thirteenth, honey,” Nie Huisang says, patting Wei Ying's cheek. “There were twelve of them.”
“Peanuts,” Wei Ying shrugs.
He grabs the handheld mirror from the bed and looks himself over.
“You outdid yourself again, Sang-sang,” he beams. “Let’s see how well Kylie holds up when I get some good doctor dick down my throat.”
“Give me a review later.”
“About the dick?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Nie Huisang sighs.
There’s one large piña colada left at the party, alongside a tray of soju shots. Wei Ying goes to town.