[ ...neither he, nor the boy's uncle. Two truths, then: Jiang Cheng has been made, however dimly, aware that his charge has joined the fold. And another: he is a man Jin Ling has met, only to be found wanting.
His father, perhaps, though if he walked the city, Wangji would know of it. Xichen would have spoken the words, if not Wei Wuxian, in a fit of —
Wei Wuxian. Wei Ying. Two truths, now, one red for debt, the other for haemorrhage. Then, the lie: this can be contained, like infection after the breaking of fever.
(Claws of unborn laughter scratch his throat to ribbons.)
Belatedly, Wangji remembers to drop down his arm and withdraw the remaining loquats, reserved for Xichen's scrutiny and whimsical palate later. ]
You had your first mount.
[ Servants' gossip, noise and laughter between deliveries of meals in Wangji's confinement. Last he knew of Jin Ling, he was of a toddler's age, enough of him grown to prop on his first pony. ]
no subject
His father, perhaps, though if he walked the city, Wangji would know of it. Xichen would have spoken the words, if not Wei Wuxian, in a fit of —
Wei Wuxian. Wei Ying. Two truths, now, one red for debt, the other for haemorrhage. Then, the lie: this can be contained, like infection after the breaking of fever.
(Claws of unborn laughter scratch his throat to ribbons.)
Belatedly, Wangji remembers to drop down his arm and withdraw the remaining loquats, reserved for Xichen's scrutiny and whimsical palate later. ]
You had your first mount.
[ Servants' gossip, noise and laughter between deliveries of meals in Wangji's confinement. Last he knew of Jin Ling, he was of a toddler's age, enough of him grown to prop on his first pony. ]