[ Sighing out these words, Jiang Cheng raises a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, feeling like nothing so much as a man walking into his own funeral. There's no coming back from this, and he doesn't even have any kind of excuse except that it was a moment of weakness. He'd been drunk. He'd been so happy to see Jin Zixuan, was reminded of the better days at the start of the war, before it all turned so sour.
It's not an excuse, it's not even any kind of real explanation. He'd been selfish, wanted to be a younger man, wanted to shirk all the expectation and responsibility that had been thrust upon him with the massacre of his entire sect. Just for a moment. Just for a moment he'd wanted his youth back, wanted to laugh, wanted to want and have and be seen.
But how can he make Jin Ling understands when he barely understands himself? He understands the broad strokes of it, remembers how he felt in those moments, how Jin Zixuan made him feel. How desperate he's been to escape the shadow of the war, of all the loss and death. He longed for connection, for something, anything to make up for all that had been carved from his life.
How could he explain that the way Jin Zixuan looked at him let him forget that all that he loved was gone?
And yet when he goes over what he did in his own mind, he too thinks of his sister, of Jin Ling, his sister's child. He sees his betrayal plainly, knows nothing will be the same after he speaks his next words.
But then, it's all already changed. Jin Ling just doesn't know it yet.
This is the moment he sits on the boat while Lotus Pier burns. This is when he stands on the mountain, Wei Wuxian gone in the wind. ]
He didn't have to. I know him, Jin Ling. We've known each other most our lives.
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[ Sighing out these words, Jiang Cheng raises a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, feeling like nothing so much as a man walking into his own funeral. There's no coming back from this, and he doesn't even have any kind of excuse except that it was a moment of weakness. He'd been drunk. He'd been so happy to see Jin Zixuan, was reminded of the better days at the start of the war, before it all turned so sour.
It's not an excuse, it's not even any kind of real explanation. He'd been selfish, wanted to be a younger man, wanted to shirk all the expectation and responsibility that had been thrust upon him with the massacre of his entire sect. Just for a moment. Just for a moment he'd wanted his youth back, wanted to laugh, wanted to want and have and be seen.
But how can he make Jin Ling understands when he barely understands himself? He understands the broad strokes of it, remembers how he felt in those moments, how Jin Zixuan made him feel. How desperate he's been to escape the shadow of the war, of all the loss and death. He longed for connection, for something, anything to make up for all that had been carved from his life.
How could he explain that the way Jin Zixuan looked at him let him forget that all that he loved was gone?
And yet when he goes over what he did in his own mind, he too thinks of his sister, of Jin Ling, his sister's child. He sees his betrayal plainly, knows nothing will be the same after he speaks his next words.
But then, it's all already changed. Jin Ling just doesn't know it yet.
This is the moment he sits on the boat while Lotus Pier burns. This is when he stands on the mountain, Wei Wuxian gone in the wind. ]
He didn't have to. I know him, Jin Ling. We've known each other most our lives.
It was Jin Zixuan you saw me with.