He wanted nothing of this encounter, less of what Jin of the Ling, cheeks lashed by tears, can deliver. What use is an unwanted future, shadows darkening a hard horizon? What will it give Lan Wangji but reminders of every man and turn he's failed?
No one yearns for talk of ruin. Perhaps the boy has lived too little of it to know that tell. No wars, against Wangji's two. A golden age of peace bathed and baptised in Yiling blood.
He gazes to read Jin Ling's face a moment longer, past the happy accident of his easy feeding. Lan Xichen will never begrudge a child the toll he's taken on gifts unasked for. Of all things, the loquats are Wangji's best investment yet.
Children enjoy treats. He learned this long ago, with Yuan. What difference do a handful of years make? A toddler or a Jin, the cure is the same. ]
You may.
[ Deluge: what is to come, what the child-thing makes of it, what relief his confession may yet bring him. Wangji can tolerate it all, so long as it brokers one of them some satisfaction.
And if he regrets it, he will do as he has done before, and — forget. Force himself to unlearn truths that were never his to encounter. Push cheap, easily won revelations down, in favour of riddling his mysteries alone. ]
no subject
He wanted nothing of this encounter, less of what Jin of the Ling, cheeks lashed by tears, can deliver. What use is an unwanted future, shadows darkening a hard horizon? What will it give Lan Wangji but reminders of every man and turn he's failed?
No one yearns for talk of ruin. Perhaps the boy has lived too little of it to know that tell. No wars, against Wangji's two. A golden age of peace bathed and baptised in Yiling blood.
He gazes to read Jin Ling's face a moment longer, past the happy accident of his easy feeding. Lan Xichen will never begrudge a child the toll he's taken on gifts unasked for. Of all things, the loquats are Wangji's best investment yet.
Children enjoy treats. He learned this long ago, with Yuan. What difference do a handful of years make? A toddler or a Jin, the cure is the same. ]
You may.
[ Deluge: what is to come, what the child-thing makes of it, what relief his confession may yet bring him. Wangji can tolerate it all, so long as it brokers one of them some satisfaction.
And if he regrets it, he will do as he has done before, and — forget. Force himself to unlearn truths that were never his to encounter. Push cheap, easily won revelations down, in favour of riddling his mysteries alone. ]