not to be perceived

Wen Ning carefully extracts himself from the shadows at the corner of the roadside tea house where many rogue cultivators always gather to exchange gossip. His dark gray robes softly clatter from the hidden wooden plaques carved in suppression seal that hide his unclean aura and cause mortal eyes to skitter away when trying to perceive him directly. He tilts his wide bamboo hat down to better shield his pale eyes and grayish skin, his hands wrapped in scaled gauntlets to hide and protect what remains of them—now more like ghoulish claws.

The time he spent in the blood pool of the Burial Mounds to repair himself had been long enough that so much has changed. How could Hanguang-jun let Wen Ning's young master out of his sight? To be captured as well?

He does not really note the passage of time, but once he begins to pay attention again, he sees he's made it to Yunmeng all the way from Yiling. The last time he was here, he'd had to fight his way into Lotus Pier to retrieve his young master from a terrible fate.

He came here because he thought he would need to do so again.

Yet…

He can sense that his young master is indeed still alive, folded in and hidden under the many layers of arrays and spiritual mists. That beacon will always be there, connecting them along the seven emotions—allowing Wen Ning to know his young master's joy and anger, those sorrows and fears, the boundless affection for life, but also what he loves and what he hates.

All of those emotions are riotous within Wen Ning. The closer he gets to Lotus Pier the more alive he feels. The more color he sees.

And it's confusing.

Lotus Pier is a terrible place, cursed to despair and rot. From the first time his uncle, Wen Ruohan, had declared the muddy lakes to be cleansed and its struggling sect to be enlightened by the truth of the Qishan Wen dao, Wen Ning has only ever known this place as one of death and hatred. Even during its so-called revival after the war, Sect Leader Jiang could not even spare the face to acknowledge the help he received from Wen Ning's dear sister who sacrificed so much.

Matters of justice aside, Sect Leader Jiang was not the kind to remember favors. To honor them.

So what were these feelings from Wen Ning's young master?

Over some days, he lurks in the shadows and foliage surrounding Lotus Pier, Wen Ning feels bursts of anger, stirrings of resentment, and clear notes of sadness and frustration, and they are strong feelings—but nothing that specifically makes demands of Wen Ning.

Instead, what burrows into Wen Ning's cold flesh are seeds of affection, tangling their roots into his dead veins and filling his head with flashes of a life Wen Ning isn't a part of. Joy shoots up like a living thing through his chest, blooming and beautiful.

And all of it floats upon an vast inner sea of something that twists between love and hate, a behemoth of weight that's stupefying.

Meanwhile, Wen Ning remains unmoving, unblinking, and only feeling and waiting. Waiting for his young master to call to him.

His young master must sense Wen Ning.

But doesn't call for him, even unconsciously. His young master no longer seems to reach for the power Wen Ning keeps refined in black blood and suppressed by etchings strung to his clothes like wooden toggles.

A healthy black crow lands on Wen Ning's knee and pecks at the leaves that have fallen over him, its sharp beak catching on the hemp weave.

Time passes—he doesn't pay attention to how long—and when his consciousness surfaces again it's to a murder of crows that fly away suddenly when someone finds Wen Ning, under a willow tree surrounded by tall marsh grasses and catkin.

His voice is slow to come. "Sizhui."

"Ning-shushu, I found you." Wen Yuan automatically begins to use his long white sleeves with blue clouds to dust off the worst of the leaves and the strange little gifts the crows had piled up. "Wei-qianbei had to let me know where you were. You promised to come hunt with me when you got back from Yiling."

Wen Ning takes his time to muddle through the confusion. "Wei-gongzi… is alright?" Surely, if his young master really was trapped in Lotus Pier, then no communication with the outside, let alone with Wen Yuan of the Gusu Lan would be allowed?

The youth squats down next to him, bunching up the hems of his robes so they don't drag in the dirt. "That's what he says every time I ask. He's going to be in Lotus Pier a long time, and he says you should—" here, Wen Yuan pauses with a faint smile. "Go live your life."

Wen Ning hasn't been able to fathom what that means every time his young master has said it. It used to be just making sure Wen Yuan learned a few things from the clan he hardly remembers, and keeping him safe. Maybe that's all it needs to mean, if his young master really doesn't need him anymore… "You… saw him?"

Here, it's notable that Wen Yuan frowns. "Only the once, when I demanded to see him. The rest of the time we talk by transmissions and messages." Confusion causes a scrunch of lines between his brows, just like the father Wen Yuan doesn't remember. "I thought he was happy before, but he says he's home now."

Wen Ning recalls his connection back then, in that time his young master resided in the Cloud Recesses. Affection, sadness… and all of the other emotions as well, but mostly good ones.

But not as bright.

Not as clear or as overwhelming.

Wen Ning simply cannot feel for himself because of it.

If he must go live a life of his own, first he needs his sense of self back. "I promised you a hunt. Where do you want to go?"

Bright like the gentle sun that warms a shaded palatial courtyard, Wen Yuan rises quickly, tugging Wen Ning along with him. "They say there's a qilin spotted near Xi'an. Let's see if the rumors are true."