a/n.
yes, I usually put my author's note at the end, but this needs a disclaimer! happy almost four years to this fic. while looking for something else in my files, I found this wip that I wrote in July 2020. I think it was the first version of this fic (the final version being chapter one), but I never really got the chance to finish it. unfortunately, it's been a long time since I watched the series, so I don't think I can do it justice. for the sake of archiving, I'm posting the abandoned wip here :) if anyone wants to pick up this idea for lin yiyang/zhang fangfang, please let me know!
DON'T READ if you don't like incomplete things!
zff
Chen Qingqing can be exceptionally persuasive when she wants to be, and if the artist route doesn't work out for her, Fangfang knows that her friend can succeed in the pubic speaking sphere. She can draft speeches or make her living as a life coach. Regardless, she has the power to coerce others into things they wouldn't dream of doing under normal circumstances, and that is how Fangfang finds herself in Yuncheng's busiest and most exclusive shopping center on a Sunday afternoon instead of studying.
She latches onto Qingqing's elbow as they wind through the corridors to meet with Xiao Lan. The window displays are beautiful, but they're over the top and more than she can afford with her part-time cafe job. Once they reach the store, Qingqing throws her arms up in a Ta-da! motion. Fangfang shifts her weight from one foot to the other.
"I thought we were going to buy something small," Fangfang says. She ducks her head as passersby give them strange glances.
Are they looking at her? Is it something about her plain button-down and tennis skirt or her clear discomfort? She tries straightening her back and acting like she belongs there, but as seconds tick by, her shoulders draw into themselves again. Or are they looking at Qingqing? If she was dressed as Chen Qingchen, they wouldn't bat an eye―that's the privilege of being rich and beautiful. But today, Qingqing wears a striped shirt and uneven overalls that make her look more like a farm girl than an heiress.
"I only said that to convince you to come," Qingqing cooes, clasping her hands in front of her face. "Forgive me for lying, but I want to pay you back for being such a great friend."
Fangfang swallows her knee-jerk reaction to charity money. Last time, Yiyang told her he bought her workplace as a gift, and she lost her temper at the joke. It wasn't her best moment. She prides herself on her reservoir of patience, and she draws from it now to formulate a response.
"Thank you, but you being my friend is enough. I don't need material goods to show for it." She casts a glance at the dress in the window: sultry red and sleek with random cut-outs that make her wonder if they skimped on fabric costs. "Really."
Lan has materialized with an understanding smile by the time Fangfang's gaze turns back to Qingqing. "I'd also like to thank you for supporting Qingchen this whole time. Don't feel troubled by the gesture―unless you'd like a home-cooked meal of water beetle stew, black mushroom and pumpkin soup, and questionably braised fish, this is one of the few ways we can return your kindness."
She suspects that a story lies behind that surprisingly specific example, and the suspicion grows when Qingqing scowls. With her best friend's puppy eyes on one side and her best friend's childhood friend's hopeful eyes on the other, Fangfang gives in with a sigh. "Since you two put so much time and care into planning this, I'll say yes." She reaches out to hold their hands. "I'll be in your care, but Qingqing, please don't go overboard."
Qingqing salutes. "Yes, ma'am!"
But of course, the promise means nothing because this is Chen Qingqing, and she has the energy of energy drinks on steroids. It's hard to believe that, with a pair of white heels and a chiffon dress, the flip side of her personality hides her smile demurely and speaks in gentle tones that coaxes others into binding business deals.
Fangfang follows Lan and Qingqing through the store and does her best to catch all the clothes they throw into her arms. They guide her to a dressing room. It's a flurry of fabrics, and before she knows it, they leave the boutique with two bags each. How many of the outfits are for her? Qingqing makes a point of stuffing the receipt into her pocket.
After the store is a spa trip where Fangfang is massaged, manicured, and pampered until her bones feel like jelly. She has to be pulled to the next location: a hair and make-up salon that she has seen on celebrity shows. Hands are constantly on her face, tugging at her hair or swiping a brush over her skin. The day is a haze, and she learns to not look at the prices or else she'd faint on the spot.
Relief comes in rocking waves once she drags her feet into their dorm and flops into bed. She's likely wrinkling her new dress, but at this point, all she wants to do is crawl under the covers and sleep until class starts.
Qingqing takes Fangfang's chin in one hand and a make-up removing wipe in the other. She pats it over Fangfang's skin, taking care to clean up the corners of her eyes. "There's one more part to your gift," she says.
Fangfang's consciousness is fading, but she manages to mumble, "One more part?"
"Well, this is more for me than for you, but can you dress up with me this week? I'll help you in the mornings."
What happened to Fangfang's homework again? Her gaze flits over to her backpack. It hangs off the back of her chair, beckoning. She should get to it at some point. She finished everything due tomorrow, she thinks, but the Witch―or Professor Chen, as Qingqing tends to correct her these days―scheduled a test for this Friday, and Fangfang has trouble with the newest concepts. Yiyang's good at math; maybe she can talk to him.
"Pleeease?"
She purses her lips, trying to consider the request, but it takes too long for her head to connect the words to their meaning. "Okay. I'm tired, though, so I'll go to bed first." She pushes off the mattress to stumble into the bathroom. Behind her, Qingqing cheers with arms in the air.
cqq
Situ Feng makes her out to be some kind of idiot, but Qingqing knows for sure that she's a genius, and this plan is evidence. It's a surprisingly simple idea: give Fangfang a style change and watch people clamber for her attention. She's already a gorgeous girl; all Qingqing has to do is tap into what's there. Feng has his doubts, saying that Qingqing thinks too little of men. Trying to get Yiyang jealous won't get their friends together. Lin Yiyang is the leather jacket-wearing, motorcycle-riding, woman-seducing, corner-brooding bad boy of their school. According to his lackeys, he's had multiple girlfriends at once, all bombshells, and never got attached to any of them. While Feng admits that there's chemistry between the two, this little push won't do anything.
"I'm only here because I like messing with him," Feng says, tipping his chair onto its back legs.
Qingqing called him and Gu Nanxi earlier today to plan a late night meeting, and Feng insisted on a quiet cafe, so here they are now, occupying a round table by the door, each nursing a cup of hot chocolate. Qingqing turns to Nanxi for support, but he only shrugs.
"You say it won't work, but past experience says otherwise," she huffs. With a flutter of lashes, she crosses her legs and pretends to flick hair over her shoulder. "If I recall correctly, Mr. Situ Feng, every time I dress up as Qingchen, you get―mmph!"
Feng brushes the donut crumbs off his fingers with raised eyebrows. Glaring, she chews through it and swallows. "Anyway," she says. "It'll work, trust me, but I'll need your help with getting them together."
Nanxi leans his forearms on the table. "What do you need us to do?" he asks. He's always the one that listens to her, an obvious reason why he's her favorite.
"Fangfang is going to get overwhelmed by the crowds, so if you see Yiyang, tell her that she's in trouble or something. He's going to go help her." Opening her sketchbook, she reads out:
A List of Anticipated Hot Spots
* THE FRONT HALL: Because a lot of people go through the doors and it's the best place to go if you want to gather people's attention. I know because Lan Xinya and her crew always come in and out during the busiest times.
* ANY GRASSY LAWN: Students like to chill in these areas during breaks, especially now that the weather is warmer. Walking through here will catch people's eyes, but there's enough open space to not block paths.
* THE LIBRARY: Anyone who knows Fangfang knows that she likes studying in the library, so they might wait for her here. We need to make sure they don't get her in trouble with the librarians because she'll actually get upset at that.
* THE CAFE: Ideal because Yiyang works the same shifts as her and her boss won't be too annoyed if her suitors are paying customers. And she's contractually obligated not to leave! And Yiyang's contractually obligated not to hit people!
* THE CLASSROOM: This one's obvious. If Situ Feng's fans are able to come watch him, her fans are for sure going to come watch her.
* THE FEMALE DORMS: Possible but off limits. Full permission to deck anyone who tries to trespass.
* THE CAFETERIA: Sometimes she eats lunch with Yiyang, sometimes she eats lunch with her other friends. It's all a gamble. I feel like not that many people eat lunch in the physical cafeteria.
* OUR SIDE HUSTLE: More paying customers for us―I mean, we have to make sure they don't try to eat up her time by ordering more from our services!
"And the most important thing is to act natural."
"Are you kidding me? That's the easiest part. I'm Situ Feng. I'm used to acting all the time."
"Yiyang and Fangfang are headed this way!"
He yelps, and his chair, off balance, crashes to the ground. Qingqing sticks out her tongue. "You were saying?"
"That was a dirty move." He scowls, brushing off his pants and righting the chair. "I'm more concerned about your fashion sense, though. What can be so showstopping that you can make Yiyang cave in just five days?"
"Don't underestimate the power of good style," she says, tapping her sketchbook. "You'll see in the morning."
Monday
zff
The full implications of Fangfang's agreement doesn't hit her even when her blanket is eased off by an eager yet hesitant roommate the next morning. Fangfang is an early bird, and usually, she glides through her routines with a zombie-like Qingqing at her heels. It's strange to see their roles reversed and stranger still to see her friend so energetic before seven, but since Fangfang promised, she follows all instructions without complaint.
She doesn't snap to her senses until Qingqing starts putting a thin layer of foundation on her cheeks.
"Wait, I'm dressing up today?" she asks. It's too late, she realizes with a start; she's already wearing the outfit laid out the night before, and her hair is pinned back and woven at her crown. She fists the dress fabric. It shimmers between her fingers. Other than yesterday, she doesn't remember the last time she wore something so extravagant.
"Yes, and you look amazing." Qingqing adds the finishing touches before sitting back to examine her work. Her mega-watt smile kicks in and nearly blinds Fangfang. "Why don't you check it out while I change?"
Fangfang nods, but she doesn't want to walk to the full length mirror. What if she looks horrible, and Qingqing's too nice to say anything? If she could, she would avoid mirrors all day, not even sneaking a peek in case she had lip gloss on her teeth, but it's impractical and a little childish. She parks herself in front of the mirror, eyes closed, and takes a deep breath.
She doesn't recognize her reflection. She supposes you can see the resemblance if you look closely, but it's easier to consider her reflection a complete stranger that happens to mimic her movements, disbelieving expression and all. Don't misunderstand―she loves the transformation. She worries that she might be loving the transformation a little too much.
lyy
Zhang Fangfang is pretty.
Pretty in an understated way that requires a second look―and maybe a third or a fourth until you realize you're looking for excuses to find her in a crowd. Yiyang knows the feeling personally and considers it his secret to guard.
When he hears fleeting comments of how attractive she is, he glares at the person until they scamper off. Fangfang is his person, even if they haven't put explicit labels on their relationship yet. It's been worsened by Qingqing's reveal: if the brash and loud-mouthed newcomer is a stunning, wealthy heiress, what does her best friend look like underneath the layers of simplicity? It may or may not be the reason he finds himself at her side more often and walking her between destinations. No one looks closely at Zhang Fangfang when Lin Yiyang is there.
And of course, if anyone asks directly, he'll deny it to his last breath.
Today the hallways are filled with whispers. He ignores them. His presence often sparks hushed conversation or terrified silence, yet no one's gaze falls on him as he passes. Interesting.
Yeban and Dalei are in the middle of one gossiping crowd, heads bent to giggle with the others. Yiyang comes up behind them and, with a sweep of his eyes, disperses the group. His lackeys are left confused until he clears his throat.
"Boss!" Dalei jostles his shoulder. He's in a good mood, Yiyang notes. "Have you heard the news today?"
"If I listened to what everyone said, there'd be no time to do anything useful." And the most useful thing right now is to head to math class. He nods towards the room. They're catching up with Professor Chen's class, and he needs to understand this material before he offers to teach Fangfang like a knight in shining textbook notes.
Yeban and Dalei exchange a look.
"We'll see you in class later if you don't want to come with us. We're going to the other classroom to see the Boss Lady."
What the hell? Yiyang pauses mid-step. "Fangfang? Why?"
"Everyone's talking about her. Since she's our sister-in-law, you'd think we would have the information first..."
"What're they saying about her?"
"Eh, if I told you, there'd be no time to do anything useful―ow, okay! They're talking about how pretty she is! She and Qingqing are dressed up, and people are calling them Class 2A's Goddesses."
"...pick up your feet. We're going to the other class."
.
A crowd has gathered by the time Yiyang gets there. It reminds him of Situ Feng's fans pressing up against the windows to get a better look at their favorite idol, but knowing that these boys are there for Fangfang makes him push through with more force than necessary. He shuts down any complaints with a scowl.
Like he said, he spends an unfair amount of time looking at Fangfang. He has more opportunities than the average student: frequent study sessions, after-school hangouts, shared lunches, identical working shifts at the cafe, walks around campus, short conversations between classes. You would think he's grown resistant to her charm, but seeing her stand between Situ Feng and Gu Nanxi, with her hand in Chen Qingqing's...he struggles to draw his next breath. Beside him, Yeban whistles, and Yiyang would kick him if he wasn't so busy taking in Fangfang's appearance. He settles for leaving those two idiots in the crowd while he breaks through the front line.
Pretty is an understatement. Her hair falls in gentle waves down her back, and wispy strands cover her forehead, brushing against her eyebrows. A delicate braid on each side of her part keeps the rest out of her face. She could pass for a big-shot actress.
But what draws his eyes isn't her new hairstyle―it's her shoulders. The off-the-shoulder dress, layers of chiffon that fell to her ankles, is a shade of blush pink that matches Qingqing's powder blue one, and as if the exposed skin isn't enough, her features are accentuated by a make-up style that makes his throat dry. Yiyang has never felt so unequipped to talk to a girl.
"Oi, Lin Yiyang, c'mere!"
Feng's voice gets Fangfang's attention, and she directs her gaze right at him, tilting her head. Goosebumps dot his skin―that look is more dangerous than she realizes. He forces himself to step forward.
"Do something about this," Feng complains, voice taking on his signature pout. "I told Qingqing to not dress up again because she gets too much attention, and now she ropes Fangfang into it!"
"It's only for this week. You're just being jealous again," Qingqing teases and pokes his side. "We don't have to worry, if you're here to protect us, right?"
"It's tiring enough looking out for you. Who knew Fangfang had so many closet fans? Lin Yiyang, do you know how many love confessions Gu Nanxi and I had to intercept today?" He reaches into his bag and pulls out a pile of envelopes. Red, lavender, and all the colors in-between, decorated with hearts and hastily scrawled names. He's never been the type to learn people's names, but he feels mysteriously motivated to introduce himself to his fellow students. "And it's only first period."
Fangfang shuffles behind Qingqing with a soft, "There's too much trouble. Why don't I go back and change?"
"But you promised that we'd dress up together! Situ Feng is overreacting, that's all."
"Oh, I'm overreacting?"
Predictably, the two start bickering, and Nanxi exchanges a look with Fangfang. They sidestep Qingqing's stomps like it's second nature, and when Nanxi puts a guiding hand on Fangfang's back, Yiyang's eyes narrow. He plants himself on her other side.
"Are you cold?" he murmurs, visually tracing the slope of her collar. His jacket is already pushed into her arms by the time she nods.
She slips it on, and it's cute how the tips of her fingers barely peek out of the sleeves. She picks at the cuffs. "I promised Qingqing, but the attention has been overwhelming."
Nanxi pats her shoulder. "If Yiyang is free, he can help shield you when I can't."
She glances at Yiyang through her lashes, and he has to lean against a desk before his knees give out. "Yeah, he's a good friend," she says.
"Friend...?" Nanxi's brow furrows before his face smooths out in some sort of understanding that makes Yiyang want to swing on instinct. Luckily, Nanxi's always had more tact than the average person and keeps whatever thought he had to himself. "What did Qingqing say, the whole week?"
Fangfang nods again. "And you know how she is when she's motivated by something."
"Since Yiyang is such a good friend, I'm sure we'll be seeing him around more often." His tone dances over Yiyang's head like it's dangling a secret out of reach. "You do look amazing today, Fangfang."
She ducks her head, cheeks flushed and a smile blossoming, and Yiyang meets Nanxi's amused gaze with a fierce glare. His jaw clenches as he bites back scathing words. One of these days, Nanxi's penchant for teasing is going to get him in trouble, and Yiyang has no problem showing him the consequences of playing with what's not his.
The warning bell chimes. Outside the room, students grumble and disperse, leaving room for Dalei and Yeban to stumble to the front.
"Boss, we should hurry back to class!" Yeban says, and Dalei quickly voices his agreement, even though both are looking straight at Fangfang. If she tries to shrink herself any more, she might disappear. Yiyang breaks the spell by stepping in front of her, and they immediately scratch the back of their necks, grinning sheepishly.
Yiyang waves them off before turning back to her. "Keep the jacket," he says, tugging the front closed. She puts her hands over his, and he stills.
"Thanks," she says with a smile and a squeeze. He swears this girl is bad for his heart. The worst part is that she doesn't even know the power she has over him. He can see the jackass next to them practically writhing with glee. "Are we still on for studying and dinner tonight?"
"I, uh," he clears his throat, "yeah, if you're not busy. I'm free."
"Okay." She squeezes his hands again, then steps back. "I'll see you then."
He tilts his head in acknowledgement and a silent good-bye to everyone else, including the still simmering but quiet Feng and Qingqing. The students settle into their seats as Yiyang leaves, but he glances back one last time before he steps into the hall. His jean jacket dwarfs her frame, and Qingqing is already trying to convince her to take it off to keep the fairy tale princess aesthetic, but Fangfang's always had a placating charm when it comes to 2A's resident spitfire. She gets to keep the jacket on. He smiles to himself.
Now back to those math notes.
cqq
"Quick, you two, where's Yiyang?" Qingqing demands, doubled over with hands on her knees. Running from the front lawn to the Yiyang's private boxing ring is no easy feat, especially in her flowing dress and kitten heels; she's quite impressed with herself.
Yeban and Dalei, in the middle of a fake match, drop their boxing gloves and lean over the [INCOMPLETE]
zff
Fangfang isn't sure she'll survive until the end of this week, but Qingqing, ever the optimist, thinks that she'll get used to the attention eventually. It's overwhelming to have strangers walk up to her, shoving flowers and letters into her arms instead of walking past with polite nods. She has to reject so many people, and being a closeted people pleaser, she isn't used to saying no. It doesn't help that some of them make a scene, getting onto their knees for a date.
"Tell them no firmly," Qingqing instructs during one of their breaks. "Otherwise, they think your mind can be changed. Tell them no and walk away."
Qingqing's familiar with the clamor; she's able to bask in the glow when she wants to, and when she wants to be left alone, she brushes them off with sweet words that carry a feeling of finality. Fangfang tries to follow her example, but once cornered, she finds herself listening to their confessions all the way through, stammering a soft no, giving some kind of excuse to leave, and hightailing it out of there.
Her saving grace comes in the form of Yiyang's extra attention. When he can't be by her side, he sends Yeban and Dalei, who are loud and brash but care about her in their strange way. When he can, though, he cuts off unwanted advances by taking her arm, pulling her behind him like a physical shield. Just a few irritated scoffs and a challenging raise of his eyebrows are enough to send most suitors running in the other direction.
That's the tactic he's using now, but Jinhai either has a death wish or an inflated sense of bravado because he doesn't back down. Fangfang peers over Yiyang's shoulder, her free hand fisting the back of his aviator jacket. Fangfang asked [INCOMPLETE]