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[inheritedpain]

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Jin Ling ⬤ The Untamed
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moonblessing ⬤ iris

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[amidstsnow]

[zixuan blinks a few times. it's a strange combination, a sad story somehow connected to xiao xingchen, a man he's never met but knows of from reputation alone.]

I give you my word, I'll mention it to no one.

[inheritedpain]

[ So he starts.

He's not the best story teller, by any means, and his view is somewhat limited. More than once he goes to say "Mo Xuanyu" then grimaces and corrects himself to "Wei Wuxian", but otherwise he tells his father exactly what happened. How they were all led to the city, how it was covered in fog and they couldn't get out. How many of them were poisoned, how Wei Wuxian made them congee ("I wasn't even allowed to have any but even I could see it was awful"). How Xiao Xingchen had appeared - how it had turned out not to be him at all. Lan Wangji fighting him, the fierce corpses fighting each other. He was careful not to mention Wen Ning by name, only by moniker - the Ghost General.

A-Qing, Wei Wuxian using empathy, Xue Yang - all of it.

He only ended when he told his father about the burial. By the end of it he was solemn, and he couldn't look directly at his father. ]

We went - we all went to an inn, afterward. I got into a fight with Sizhui, but it was stupid. Somehow he still-- we're still friends, I guess.

Though the Lan Sizhui here isn't... isn't the same as the one back home. He's one of the others. But he doesn't mind, so I won't mind either.

[amidstsnow]

[whatever he expected this story to be, it's nothing like that. he would almost believe it to be exaggerated, the way jin zixun would stretch stories when he had a few drinks in him, making the danger more dangerous and himself more heroic. but jin ling is not jin zixun. he tells the story in an adorably earnest way, true to his memory of the events.

he catches himself wondering if jiang cheng knows this story. if his heart seized at the most dangerous parts the way that his own does. but it's amazing too. he scoots forward, gripping the fabric of his robes over his knees more than once.]

Boys fight sometimes, even friends. I can't tell you the number of times I fought with Wei Wuxian. Even your uncle and I were not always on good terms.

[better now - not that he wants to remind him.

but speaking of "others"...zixuan opens his mouth, hesitating before finally speaking.]

Have you met many of...those who aren't the same from home?

[he's thinking of the other him, of yanli, even the other jin ling.]

[inheritedpain]

A few of them.

[ He mutters it, his expression turning into a frown. ]

I— I know I should pay them my respects more often, but.

[ He shifts uncomfortably. ]

They aren’t mine. They’ve got their own— they’ve got their own Jin Ling.

[ And then, a little miserably: ]

Are you going to recognize him as your son too?

[amidstsnow]

I had never even considered it.

[which might be strange. jin ling is the son of jin zixuan, and he is jin zixuan.

but jin ling...his jin ling, already understands the feelings he has about it.]

I'm sure he is a fine son, but I only have one.

[inheritedpain]

[ The sudden heat behind his eyes surprises him - he hadn’t realised just how badly he’d wanted to hear that until it was said. His fists bunched tightly into his robes at the knees, and then suddenly he moved - shifting over the distance between them, wrapping his arms tightly around his father and pressing his face into his shoulder.

Don’t — don’t call him out just let him have this!!! ]

[amidstsnow]

[look, if he even tried to call him out, he might start crying too and nobody wants that. so after the surprise, he just...wraps his arms around him too.

his son is solid and real and here. jin zixuan has to keep reminding himself of it so that he doesn't start thinking that it's just a dream.]

[inheritedpain]

[ If Jin Zixuan’s shoulder is starting to get damp, it’s fine. It’s just. Raining. Inside.

He clings a little tighter when the embrace is returned, too overwhelmed by everything to be more dignified about it. Because here was the honest truth of the thing:

Even if his father did embarrass him... ]

... I’m really glad you’re here.