𝑝𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑦 & 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑒,

Ahh, i posed this to twitter but it slipped my mind to post it here as well.

OF ALL THE ARTS the disciples of any sect must be well-versed in, archery has always been a particular favorite of Wei Wuxian's, something he could still use to prove his worth (superiority, even) back when his meridians were barren and void. Jingyi's technique is a disaster — and yet it became an unspoken rule, number four thousand and gods know what, a rule even Lan Qiren is not-so-blissfully aware of. These kids don't need to be perfect. When he tries to appear stern, in his eyes spills nothing but kindness and warmth — this little performance, however, isn't merely an act of cheating ( forbidden under the rule 837! ), but an insult to his intelligence if the little cheater thought he could get away with it. ❝ Jingyi, ❞ he presses, softly, a smile tugging at the corners of lips. ❝ If you're going to take me for an idiot, at least have the decency to do it with elegance. ❞

A hand reaches then, to take the bow and the remaining arrows ( how many have been lost outside the training grounds? ) out of the boy's hands. Attentive gaze fixates upon the remaining targets for a few moments, as if calculating the speed at which they move, like a hawk waiting for his prey to misstep and then– Eyes close, allowing a few more seconds to pass before the targets align, four arrows ready to be fired and with a splitting echo of a sound each of them pierces the heart of a wooden beast, shy for one that skews slightly off-center. It seems that the juniors are not the only ones who need more practice. ❝ Last time I did this blindfolded, and a charming guniang couldn't resist her passion and kissed me. You think your cheating would impress anyone? ❞

( to this day, he cannot discern between adoration and slight disappointment for such a story being ruined, not that it sounded remotely believable in the first place ).

the groan that threatens to slip past his lips does not make its presence in front of his qiánbèi, but instead he simply steps aside and allows himself to be chided- no matter how slight. still, his lips curl into a distasteful little thing, gaze sliding to the side to avoid the way wei wuxian is clearly nagging at him in his own amused way; lan jingyi does let out a heavy sigh and here, the urge to roll his eyes rather strong. it's clear he needs to work on hiding his tricks a little better! if wei wuxian picks up on it easily, he cannot even fathom how quickly lan xiansheng or even hanguang - jun would be able to pick up on it ... and then he would have to do handstands once again, then he'd be kneeling in punishment for quite the while again and again!

lan jingyi pales at the thought, arrows and bow easily slipping from his grasp into his qiánbèi's. perhaps it would do some sort of good for him to pay attention, to honestly strike his targets true with his arrows. besides, to live a life in dishonesty is frowned upon and lan jingyi would rather give his all in front of them so as to not be the downfall of gusu lan's pride when it comes to archery competitions.

quietly does he shuffle so that he stands beside the other man, a glance to how he straightens himself- how his arm is steady, how there is an inhale that stutters, how it stops in the cavern of his mouth, how his lashes flutter and fingers tense. how, then, the four arrows spiral through the serene air to split the targets, save for the one. lan jingyi's breath stutters, stumbles, in his chest. what a sight to behold, truly! he is taken by the mere sentence wei wuxian has said to him, a tale told in just a few words; the boy is staring wordlessly at the targets dangling where they hover before he sharply turns on the other.

" blindfolded?! " charming gūniang and kisses aside, he cannot even think to aim arrows with such terrifying speed and precision blindfolded- he stares at wei wuxian incredulously. the man is truly a respectable figure, though lan jingyi won't ever audibly admit that. " qiánbèi, you were off on that last one. you also need more training. maybe the gūniang had a mistaken moment, " he points out instead, lips pressing together thinly to hide the way they quiver with an uncontrollable excitement. how badly does he wish to learn the way of wei wuxian's archery! " hmph ... " still, his head cocks downwards akin to the sight of a kicked puppy. even though he had cheated, couldn't he have gotten some sort of compliment?

and as quick as the kicked puppy nature had come, it had vanished; lan jingyi's eyes round out incredibly so, the look of a fierce denial simmering on his paler features, tense lines that do not befit a disciple of the gusu lan sect beginning to show up and thicken at wei wuxian's contemplative and cunning words. " ah! no! no, i- i'll practice more. qiánbèi, please teach me. " there is much that he learns when he night - hunts with wei wuxian, there is much he sees when he night - hunts with wei wuxian and hanguang - jun- the epitome of true love and fondness glowing between two people.

for as rough - edged and loud lan jingyi is, he truly does enjoy being in the presence of such light. for as snarky as he is to wei wuxian, he's utterly grateful to the man and he finds himself wishing, yearning, to learn and embed all the tales he tells within his soul. he won't show it outwardly though, of course not!

don't they both ?

an ornate fan blows free strands of hair out of his face with it's gentle wind as he considers the other's words. “ your words are pointed, but one might say we have both had some semblance of revenge, jiang-zhongzhu. as for reconciliation... ” the fan is shut with a strong flick of the wrist. “ i am here, am i not ? ”

it is not what he meant, and huaisang knows this. but it does not escape him that his plan harmed jiang wanyin in some ways, however indirectly. he accepts the man's anger. still, he longs for some form of camaraderie. and if anyone could understand doing the unthinkable for their family, certainly it would be his old friend jiang cheng, no?

a brow twitches in the face of the words of nie huaisang; the man does not stand to be wrong in any form or manner, however, jiang wanyin cannot stand to be berated by someone who has utterly fooled him, who has put his nephew in harm's way for the sake of a dangerous agenda. there is much to ponder on within the confinements of jiang wanyin's mind, despite the manner in which it is clouded with a foolish sense of disregarded anger. revenge has him think- it is with this tip of the blade pressing against the bob of his throat that he is forced to reminisce on just what he has done in the name of revenge, with the feeling being courted alongside him as he made a name for himself and heard rumors pass him by.

but had he truly done it in the name of revenge? is this blade truly forged by revenge itself or had it been done by grief? jiang wanyin's gaze cuts sharply to the table instead. " whoever is foolish enough to seek out similarities between the two of us does not understand the burden of the full story, " he opts for instead, his tone bristling as fingers curl tightly around the body of his cup. he refuses to elaborate in front of nie huaisang, of all people, and so he does not.

isn't it enough of a compromise that he is inviting him into his home? or is there something else lingering beneath the shadows of the waters? when he glances at the man before him, he does not see the youth he once had been in the cloud recesses- no, they had both worn those personas away, allowing them to erode into nothingness. all for the sake of revenge and grief.

truthfully speaking, nie huaisang is here but he has skillfully escaped the pointedness of jiang wanyin's inquiry- there is a tense twitch of the brow, frown becoming a lot more pronounced. he allows him the liberty to continue speaking, then there is silence settling over still lotus lakes and their lily pads; nie huaisang sounds so much like wei wuxian in that moment of turbulence as the world had come crumbling down around him- his shīxiōng with a gentle and warm hand coming to his cheek, telling him to let it go, let it go even though it is truly impossible for him to simply let it go. however, jiang wanyin is utterly exhausted. there are secrets he cannot expose, does not wish to expose to his shīxiōng so as to retain the peace he so desperately seeks. so, with nie huaisang's lily - like tone and his caressing words, his shoulders lose a smidge of their stiffness.

wouldn't it be so nice to move on with his life? to truly, really let it all go? to accept everything for what it has become and to simply live his life the way he is meant to? in the deep recesses of his mind, jiang wanyin wonders if nie huaisang had heard everything- can this man truly be trusted?

a sip of his tea, then. a tap of the tea coming down onto the table, then. a frown, a tilt of the head. jiang wanyin is not fully convinced, although he is slowly becoming looser in the presence of nie huaisang's silver tongue. " the door may be closed for you, nie - zōngzhǔ, but it is not for a'ling. you may be able to move forward with your life, but do not forget of the predicament you have put him in. " he hesitates on the lingering implications of a we ... the temptations of the past curl around his heart, a friendship reconciled- but jiang wanyin is no softened boy any longer. he has a sect to look after, a nephew to console, and to keep an eye on anyone eager to covet the boy's position. " you can take it, nie huaisang. i have a mess to clean up, after all. it is not so easy for me to simply pick myself up and close my door. "

starting over - are you a little overwhelmed with where our thread is going? let me know, and i'd be happy to start a new one with you!

pausing - if you're feeling one thread more than another we have going on, that's perfectly fine! you're welcome to let me know if you'd like, but it's not a necessity.

multiples - if we have a ship that you love and you have many ideas for them, always feel welcome to throw them at me no matter what! while it may affect my reply speed due to having more, it doesn't affect my interest at all!

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clarice lispector why this world: a biography of clarice lispector \\ fernando pessoa i have more souls than one: i see boats moving (tr. jonathan griffin)