The sofa kingdom Wei Wuxian had established in the middle of the living room displays was rapidly expanding. By the time Lan Wangji returned from putting back a stack of mismatched cushions Wei Wuxian had "borrowed" from three different setups, the “Wei-Lan Household” had doubled in size.

There was now a small dining table added to the mix, painstakingly dragged into position by Wei Wuxian himself, and around it sat an army of plush sharks propped in mismatched chairs. A lamp shaped like a paper moon hung precariously over the table, illuminating the ridiculous scene.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, tone flat as ever, though his eyes were just slightly wider than usual.

Wei Wuxian beamed, spreading his arms wide. “Lan Zhan! Welcome home! The family has gathered for dinner. Look—little A-Yuan the shark is sitting in the big chair, just like a proper young master. And the twins—” he pointed at two smaller sharks jammed side by side in a booster seat—“are misbehaving again. But that’s alright, because their father is here to restore order.”

Lan Wangji took a slow breath, as if counting silently to ten. “This is not order.”

“It is!” Wei Wuxian insisted, plopping into one of the chairs. He picked up a fake IKEA teacup and raised it solemnly. “To the family Wei-Lan. May our nights be lit by discount lamps and our dinners consist only of meatballs and lingonberry jam.”

He pretended to drink, then dramatically gagged. “Ack—no tea. Just air. That’s fine. Spiritual energy will sustain us.”

A couple walking by stopped to gawk. One of them whispered, “Are they… living here?”

Wei Wuxian waved cheerfully. “Yes! Rent-free!”

Lan Wangji pinched the bridge of his nose.

The expansion didn’t stop there. Wei Wuxian had spotted the office furniture section. Before Lan Wangji could stop him, he darted off and came back pushing a rolling chair with a triumphant grin.

“Look, Lan Zhan! My new throne!” He sat down, spun in a dizzying circle, and then stopped with his hair in wild disarray. “Ah, dizzy, dizzy—but powerful. Just imagine: me, CEO of IKEA, commanding my employees to distribute sharks to every household in the cultivation world.”

Lan Wangji stared at him, unblinking. “…You are ridiculous.”

Wei Wuxian pressed a hand over his heart as though moved to tears. “Lan Zhan! You admit it openly now. Our relationship has reached new heights!”

Before Lan Wangji could reply, Wei Wuxian shoved another chair toward him. “Here, this is your office seat. Sit next to me, Vice President Lan. Together, we’ll revolutionize Swedish furniture.”

“No.”

Wei Wuxian pushed harder until the chair nudged Lan Wangji’s legs. “Lan Zhan, if you don’t sit, the sharks will lose faith in your leadership. Do you want to disappoint your children?”

For the briefest second, Lan Wangji’s composure faltered. His eyes flickered to the sharks arranged around the dining table, one of which was slowly toppling sideways.

Without a word, he sat.

Wei Wuxian gasped, slapping both hands onto the desk. “Yes! IKEA office inaugurated! Productivity will soar!”

The teenagers from earlier were back, phones out, recording the entire exchange with muffled giggles.

The illusion of their “household” solidified as Wei Wuxian dragged more props from surrounding displays. A rug, a set of bookshelves, several potted fake plants. He even went so far as to hang a picture frame crookedly on a nearby partition wall.

“Lan Zhan, what do you think?” he asked, sweeping his arm around like a real estate agent. “Spacious, affordable, and conveniently located next to the cafeteria. Only downside: occasional employees trying to evict us.”

As if on cue, a staff member approached, clipboard clutched nervously. “Um… excuse me, sirs, you can’t… rearrange the furniture like that.”

Wei Wuxian grinned disarmingly. “Oh, don’t worry! We’re just… testing the versatility of IKEA’s modular designs. Very thorough customers, you see. Quality assurance! You should thank us.”

The employee blinked, opened her mouth to protest, then froze as Wei Wuxian shoved a shark into her arms.

“Here, a gift. From our family to yours.”

She stared at the shark, clearly uncertain what to do, then muttered something about checking with her manager and walked away.

Wei Wuxian collapsed onto the sofa, laughing so hard his shoulders shook. “Lan Zhan, did you see her face? We’re unstoppable! IKEA can’t contain us!”

Lan Wangji sat down beside him, silent, though his hand twitched as though resisting the urge to confiscate every shark in sight.

After a brief “family meeting” in which Wei Wuxian made the sharks vote on what to eat for dinner (all votes went to meatballs, shockingly), he dragged Lan Wangji toward the kitchen section again.

“Lan Zhan, we need to furnish our fake household properly. A kitchen is the heart of a home! And look—” He pointed at a sleek black-and-white display. “This one screams ‘elegant cultivator with hidden romantic streak.’ It’s you! You’d look amazing chopping vegetables under that pendant light.”

Lan Wangji’s face remained stoic, but Wei Wuxian leaned closer and whispered, “I’ll wear an apron that says ‘Kiss the Cook.’”

Lan Wangji turned his head slightly, perhaps to avoid the sight of Wei Wuxian grinning wickedly up at him.

Wei Wuxian tried out every drawer, cupboard, and appliance in sight. He pulled open a fridge, found it empty, and gasped dramatically. “Lan Zhan! They’ve stolen all our food! This is a tragedy!”

“It is a display,” Lan Wangji corrected.

Wei Wuxian grabbed a plastic banana from a bowl on the counter and bit into it with exaggerated crunching noises. “Mmm, delicious. Truly, the taste of modernity.”

Lan Wangji plucked the banana from his hand and set it back neatly.

“You ruin all my fun,” Wei Wuxian pouted. “But fine. Let’s move on. Next room in our palace of dreams!”

The children’s section proved disastrous.

Wei Wuxian sprinted down the aisles, grabbing plush toys, beanbags, and miniature furniture. He found a bunk bed display and immediately climbed to the top bunk, dangling upside down with a shark in one hand.

“Lan Zhan, look! I’m the king of IKEA Mountain!”

Lan Wangji stood at the bottom, one hand slightly raised as though ready to catch him if he fell. “Get down.”

“But the view is amazing!” Wei Wuxian said, swinging dangerously. “I can see the arrows stretching on forever. Truly, this is a sacred realm.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji warned.

Wei Wuxian finally clambered down, landing with a dramatic bow. “Fine, fine. The king descends to mingle with the common folk.”

He immediately picked up a tiny plastic chair and tried to sit in it, nearly snapping it in half. “Behold, Lan Zhan! A throne perfectly suited for me!”

Lan Wangji reached over, lifted him out of the chair without effort, and set him on his feet.

“Unfair,” Wei Wuxian muttered, sulking, though his grin never faded.

By now, word of their antics had spread. Customers paused to watch, some laughing openly, others whispering behind hands. A few even followed them discreetly, as if they were part of an unscripted performance art piece titled Chaos in IKEA.

Wei Wuxian, ever the performer, embraced it. He bowed to the growing audience, introduced Lan Wangji as “my extremely patient husband,” and narrated their every move as though hosting a reality show.

“And here we see Hanguang-jun, stoic cultivator extraordinaire, valiantly resisting the urge to strangle his partner in the rug department. Truly inspiring.”

Lan Wangji’s eyebrow twitched.

The rug department turned out to be Wei Wuxian’s next battleground. He threw himself onto a massive shaggy rug and rolled across it like a cat.

“Lan Zhan, it’s so fluffy! Let’s buy ten and sew them together to make a giant nest!”

Lan Wangji pulled him upright by the collar. “No.”

“Fine, fine. But imagine it: one giant rug fort, sharks everywhere, fairy lights above. Cozy perfection!”

Lan Wangji released him without comment, but Wei Wuxian thought he saw the faintest softening in his eyes.

The chaos peaked when Wei Wuxian found the room dividers.

“Lan Zhan, we can build walls! Real walls! Our household will be unstoppable!”

Before Lan Wangji could stop him, he began dragging panels around, sectioning off their “living room” and “bedroom.” He even made a “doorway” out of two bookshelves.

“Welcome to Casa Wei-Lan,” he declared, bowing deeply to bewildered onlookers. “Shoes off at the door, meatballs in the fridge, sharks on every bed.”

At that exact moment, a store manager finally approached, flanked by two weary employees.

“Excuse me,” the manager said firmly, though his tone carried the edge of long-suffering exhaustion. “You cannot rearrange the store. This is a place of business.”

Wei Wuxian clasped his hands together and looked heartbreakingly earnest. “But sir, we’ve built a home here. A family. Look at them!” He gestured at the sharks arranged neatly on the sofa.

The manager blinked. “Those are… toys.”

Wei Wuxian gasped as though mortally wounded. “Toys?! How dare you! That’s our son, A-Yuan the Shark!”

Lan Wangji placed a hand on Wei Wuxian’s shoulder. His voice was calm, steady, and somehow more intimidating than shouting. “We will clean up.”

Wei Wuxian spun toward him, eyes wide. “Lan Zhan, you can’t betray the family like this!”

Lan Wangji gave him a single look, and Wei Wuxian wilted instantly. “Fine, fine. We’ll clean up. But you’re breaking the sharks’ hearts, you know.”

The employees began dismantling the pillow fortress while Wei Wuxian clutched two sharks protectively to his chest. “Don’t worry, little ones. Papa Lan is just grumpy.”

Cleaning up took longer than expected because Wei Wuxian “accidentally” kept hiding items. A pillow here, a candle there, a shark wedged between two chairs. Each time Lan Wangji found one, he gave him a silent stare that could freeze fire.

Eventually, the display area was restored to order, and the employees left with sighs of relief.

Wei Wuxian slumped onto the sofa. “Lan Zhan, you ruined our empire.”

“It was not an empire.”

“It was!” Wei Wuxian wailed dramatically. “The IKEA Dynasty, gone too soon.”

Lan Wangji sat beside him. “Good.”

Wei Wuxian gasped, then leaned against his shoulder with a mischievous grin. “Don’t worry, Lan Zhan. Dynasties fall, but love remains. And so do sharks.”

He tucked the plush closer, utterly unrepentant.