“ xiōng zhǎng, i am not coddling you. ”　 he stated sincerely, his deep voice low and calm, taking notice of his brother’s graveled warning yet still unwavering in his resolve. the correction was gentle, but absolute. 　“ i am staying. ”

his golden eyes finally met lán xīchén's amber ones, not to challenge but to behold his brother’s face. the shadows, the chapped lips, the smile that was a ghost of its former self.... his own expression, often a pristine mask of jade, was softened at the edges by a pain that was not his own.

lan xichen watches his brother pick up the tray of food, long since gone cold, and takes notice of his avoiding gaze. does wangji feel guilty, he thinks to himself. what does he have to be guilty of except perhaps putting his trust in the right person? lan xichen's throat constricts. he hopes wangji feels guilty. the thought comes with a bitterness rising to his tongue. he hates himself for wanting that. hates himself for not listening. for truly believing that his friend- his sworn brother- his...-

when his brother does look at him, lan xichen can't stand the pity in his golden gaze. his words do not help, only serve to irritate him more. to unravel the frayed edges of his sanity.

"you were hurt. it is not the same," he spoke simply, void of any emotion. beneath his sleeves, the sect leader grips his fists tight, scratching the blunt edge of nail across the raw skin. with a deep breath, he tries to pour any ounce of genuineness into his words. "i appreciate your concern, but this is something i must do alone." a beat. two. his tone becomes pleading. "please, wangji. leave me be."

          Every nerve screamed at him — not just from old injuries, but from the gnawing anxiety that Wei Wuxian was still trapped in the cave. For an awful second, he remembered the flash of pain as that damned arrow struck, and the memory made his hands ball into fists. If he ran into that idiot responsible, he’d do more than exchange words — he’d knock all his teeth loose.

          But there was no time to dwell on Wei Wuxian, not now. Survival demanded focus. He scanned the shadows, and his gaze caught on Jin Zixuan. Pressed tight in Jiang Cheng’s own outer robe, Jin Zixuan looked every bit the heir — even when caked in mud and streaked with sweat, the color of the fabric set off his skin in a way Jiang Cheng grudgingly had to admit worked. Ridiculous, really. He almost said something dismissive, but what slipped out hovered somewhere between a compliment and a barb. Maybe it was habit — old bitterness over broken engagements and family honors that would never quite fit together.

        Jin Zixuan's response had Jiang Cheng sighing. If Wei Wuxian had been here, he would have made some clever remark that turned up the heat even more. Instead, Jiang Cheng just scoffed, rolling his eyes and arching a brow. “ I didn't purple was your color” he said, voice dry. “Does it even matter what we look like? We're running for our lives out here.”

the jiang heir was stubborn, always thinking with his emotions. it was why jin zixuan had to drag jiang cheng into the water and out of the cave. and he would drag him all the way to lanling if he needed to. if his upbringing taught him anything, it was to shut up and watch. listen. ensure you have the upper hand before you make an ass of yourself (or, he hears in his father's voice, the jin name). optics were everything, after all. even in a life or death situation.

"it will be faster going to lanling. even without our swords, we should be able to get there in a few days. faster on the way back, once we have help. hopefully we have a decent advantage on them, but we should hurry. and lay low. they'll be scouting nearby towns." as he spoke, jin zixuan began taking off his gold hairpiece, scrubbing the vermilion mark off his forehead next but not before hesitating. his pride kept him from dropping the piece right there, instead tucking it away in his sleeve.

slowly moving away from the large tree, jin zixuan glanced around the forest for any movement, listening for footfalls or snapping branches, before glancing back at jiang cheng. "we should get going."

She supposes, she hasn’t had all that long to really think of it as anything. She was living, and then she wasn’t, and then her skin was too warm and too tight, her mouth too sharp, and then (it was hungry. The hunger is what makes it feel so ceremoniously un-victorious. But he isn’t wrong. She exists, she can still think coherently and express herself in a way that feels almost normal. If not human, she is still real.

She can sense that Logan is not quite like her, not new to this all at least. She can sense age, and the weathering that comes with it, the pain and emotion and the hundreds of victories and losses.

“Does it get any easier?” she asks, studying him carefully.

"yes... and no," he tells her with a bittersweet smile. "but i don't have all the answers. and all our experiences are different. that probably isn't what you want to hear," he says with a small chuckle. sighing, he thinks for a moment what kind of answer may bring her solace.

"knowing what humanity means to you and holding tight to it... that makes it easier. gives you a purpose. makes the hardest of nights a little less daunting." he thinks about his own approach. how healing yet detrimental it has been for him. for others. how the shadows seem to follow him and swallow his love no matter what he does.

zixuan vs his future in-laws

yanlijie is loved! (i actually designed jyl & jzx just so i can draw this lmaooo)