inbox | eastbound

[downswing]

lan wangji
missives | encounters

Comments

end

[weifinder]

Thank you.

[downswing]

( He is the wagon. No, their bond. No, Wei Ying. No —

He cannot decipher.

There is a point past which Wei Ying devolves into childlike innocence, into the rushed inability to concoct the particulars of honest conversation. When he is at once an opaque, obscure scholar, too overwhelmingly intelligent for the audience who spectates him, and an utter fool.

This is that moment. Lan Wangji, who has worn patience like a mantle, dresses in it once more — and, after a pained few moments, turns on the video setting of the pendant to focus on his hand, where the clumsiest paper cart has been folded, the 'wheels' hanging on by literal thread. He pulls on it, the paper wheels shifting more left-right than in rotation. )

I shall carry you. ( But, by the looks of the wheel that unpeels off the string at the next tug, not too far. )

[weifinder]

( visual met with visual, and wei wuxian holds the pendant up to see, to better peer down, at the paper wagon and its swinging wheels. he smiles, throat too tight to speak at first, at length, his eyes wet and glistening. overflowing, as his heart, his chest, everything he is, condensed and contained in this moment. )

All of me, Lan Zhan? We'll have to stay close to both fit.

( attached and conjoined and held and led and leading, supporting and supported, burdened in tandem, loved and learning. always learning. always changing.

he is not a man who knows how to circumvent the need for change. )

[downswing]

Stop. Stop giving your waters.

You are not prettier for it.

[weifinder]

( that prods him into laughing, and he does swipe at the tears that manage to overflow at that. )

Maaah, Lan Zhan, since when do you call me pretty? It's handsome, handsome! I was third most handsome of our generation, once.

( it's words to fill in spaces, no actual heat or caring behind it but for the performance of it, and to distract, detract, from the warmth of these tears. )

[downswing]

Mmmm. Blind arbiter.

[weifinder]

( that has him laughing, genuinely. something he's needed to do for a while here, and it's been hard. )

Is that so? I'll believe you! They'd be equally blind to think you anything less than handsome, you know that, you should.

[downswing]

Did not partake of rankings.

[weifinder]

Rankings adored you, ah?

[downswing]

Who followed?

[weifinder]

A delightful fellow with a nice name, what was it again?

[downswing]

Wei Ying. ( The most patient: ) Gossip prohibited in Cloud Recesses.

( Sir, how do you expect him to know. )

[weifinder]

In truth, he was a nuisance until he seemingly learned better, my shijie the only one worth crediting for that. Maaah, I'm not sure why, but it was Jin Zixuan. What lack of eyes did the cultivation world have back then?

[downswing]

He... was the most desired suit of the cultivation world?


( And not Zewu-Jun? )

[weifinder]

After your brother and you. It's absurd! ... Was absurd!

[downswing]

The son of a foremost sect. Possessed of youth, beauty, bloodline, strength, silver.

[weifinder]

Gold, let's not be modest. That was his strongest recommendation, he wasn't so easy to look upon. Young, okay, yes, that's a matter of birth timing. Bloodline? Pah!

[downswing]

( Not 'so easy.' )

Yet you looked.

[weifinder]

With prejudice, you had to know how he treated shijie. His fiancee. I could never figure out what she saw as attractive in him when we were all that age.

( the age of "young" )

Never did figure it out, but at some point, you accept the inevitable.

[downswing]

( What he's hearing is: )

You looked extensively.

[weifinder]

While punching him in the face, yes. Very satisfying.

( and a pause, followed by a brief snort: )

Lan Zhan, Lan Zhaaaan, do I hear jealousy?

[downswing]

Of a man oossessed of youth, beauty, bloodline, strength and — gold?

[weifinder]

Ah, ah, ah, so you didn't notice any of the many times I was looking only at you? My poor heart... or my poor ignorance, I never thought about why I looked so often. Nor why I missed you in Yiling especially. Or—

( a pause. )

Or I had an idea but didn't think on improbabilities. Hmm, that sounds familiar.

[downswing]

He has perished. We do not ill speak of the dead.

[weifinder]

Who's speaking ill? I'll pour vinegar for the both of us later, when we have time to pickle things for dinner. Delicious, no?