Summary: Yu Ziyuan was not even supposed to answer that early morning call. It was meant for A-Li, for anyone else, really, that wasn't her. She knew that she was the wrong one to be here with him. That would not stop her doing what she had to do, from being the person he needed her to be.
Wei Wuxian is assaulted. During the examination that follows, Yu Ziyuan learns more about him. She learns more about herself as well.
Authors Note: We have finally reached the end! Thank you all for coming with me on this journey!
Heaven Has No Rage
Chapter Eight:
Heaven has no rage, like love to hatred turned,
Nor Hell a fury, like a woman scorned.
— William Congreve
In the end, it made the most sense for the children to ride back with Fengmian. His vehicle was the larger one after all, and as could be expected, neither A-Li nor A-Cheng showed any interest in being separated from their brother. So once Fengmian had finally finished his discussion with the doctor, he loaded the children up and drove off, Yu Ziyuan following behind, alone.
She did not begrudge the turn of events. Wei Wuxian naturally deserved all of the attention he could withstand. She just could not deny the irony of it all. He had called all those hours ago for a ride, and of all things to happen this morning, that was the one she hadn't done.
The drive back was just as quiet and long as it had been on the way. The morning was warmer now—much too warm for the jacket she could not bring herself to take off—the summer sun well and truly into the sky by that point. Far more commuters were on the highway at this hour, and she couldn't say she was pleased about it. Every time another vehicle merged or passed her, separating her from the SUV holding her family, her heart began to pound, and sweat gathered underneath her tight palms on the steering wheel.
Eventually, she had taken to essentially tailgating behind her husband. It was foolish of her, she knew. The cars around her weren't any real opposition. They were all just a bunch of families going about their lives the way her family was, she supposed, though likely enjoying a brighter or at least more mundane chapter than they were.
She would give anything for that, she realized. She wished this morning could have just been like any other: a boring drive to a boring job, coming home to three college-aged kids who would spend the entire dinner on their cellphones if she'd let them, then reading silently in bed side by side with a husband she would much rather be doing intimate things with, and falling asleep unsatisfied, with the promise of the next day being more of the same. She would empty her bank account for a day like that, to only ever have days like that.
Life didn't work that way, though, so she continued to follow so closely behind her family that no one could separate them, and wondered about all the things she was not privy to. She wondered what the atmosphere in the other car was like. She wondered if Fengmian and Wei Wuxian had spoken to each other yet, or if they both found it easier to stay quiet, one too embarrassed and the other too out of his depth to say anything at all.
She wondered how the boy felt about her absence. She wondered if he was relieved. She wondered if he wanted her there.
When they finally arrived back at the house, A-Li and A-Cheng wasted no time in herding Wei Wuxian from the car, his cell phone in his right hand (A-Cheng had, apparently, found it while out searching for him), and A-Li's hand in his left. Yu Ziyuan watched until they all crossed beyond the doorway, disappearing deeper into the house.
She did not follow, her feet rooted to the concrete of their driveway.
It was useless she knew, but watching the boy's slight limp, the way he let go of A-Li to grip the railing up the stairs, she could not help but think about how it could have been even worse.
It wasn't an irrational thought, she didn't think. He had been at the utter mercy of those bastards, after all. He was only here now because they had let him go, but they very easily could not have. What would she have done, if Wen Chao had gone even farther than too far? What would she have done if she had picked up the phone and it hadn't been Wei Wuxian's voice asking for help, but the police or the hospital or the morgue with nothing but a corpse waiting to be identified? What would she have done if it had been too late, and her house never again held the ring of his laughter, the chime of his voice, the brightness of his smile?
(What if he had lost his life, and even while breathing his dying breath, would have believed that Yu Ziyuan wouldn't have cared? What would she have done then?)
She was breathing too heavily. Her vision was slipping too far out of focus. That was why it took her far too long to realize that Fengmian had stayed behind as well.
He stepped forward until they stood side by side. If his eyes were on her, she did not know. She kept hers firmly on the front door, left open, leading into an empty foyer, devoid of three beings that mattered so very much to her.
"Thank you for being with him," Fengmian said.
Her immediate response: "Did you think I wouldn't be?"
His honesty: "I would not have expected you to think he was worth the trouble."
That offended her, even though she had already known that he did not think very highly of her, even though she had never given him much of a reason to think anything else. Stupid of her, really, to figure her husband would have thought better of her than that regardless.
"Is he not a member of my household?" she shot back, unable to keep the bite from her tone.
He said nothing, but she could imagine what he wanted to say. Probably something like, you've never seen fit to treat him like one, or, for all the good that's done anyone.
She was thankful he did not say either of those things. The words would have hit her like a finishing blow to the chest, for all that they were certainly true.
She knew that no matter what she said, though, here in this moment, she would not win. Fengmian let her win a lot of things, but she never had and never would win against Cangse Sanren's son. She had known that since before she had even laid her eyes on the boy. She had known that since he declared he was bringing him home and left to find him. She had known that since the moment Fengmian had taken one look at Wei Wuxian's teary face, and had A-Cheng's dogs sent away.
Just thinking about it made her skin bristle, even after all this time. It still angered her to this day because had it been any other circumstance, any other person, then surely it would have been different. But it had been a dead woman's son—no matter that Fengmian had never even met the boy through anything other than video messages before then—against hers, and he would not be moved. It still angered her, because it was only the start of a decade of losing and losing and losing.
And maybe part of the reason why she never won was because of herself. Because no matter how futile, she would never go down without a fight. Because of who she was, all the way down to her core. Had her personality been any less volatile, maybe she could have better gotten across what she was trying to say. Maybe she could have convinced Fengmian that instead of sending away the pets A-Cheng loved so much, they could have tried to cure Wei Wuxian of his phobia while he was still young and malleable. Maybe she could have at least pushed Fengmian to better explain to A-Cheng why they needed to go, instead of all but saying that he already loved a boy he hardly knew better than his own son.
Maybe she could have done a lot of things, had she been different. Maybe she could have fixed their home before it broke down into sharp, jagged pieces. Maybe she could have stopped so many arguments and slammed doors and quiet dinners and childish sobs seeping through the walls and lonely nights wishing her marriage could be anything other than what it was.
But of course, she had done none of that, and because maybe she would never really change, she finished, heatedly, "Just because I do not heap unnecessary praises on him and ignore his faults like you does not mean that I don't—" care for him "—have an investment in his well being."
The silence was tense, sharp around the edges, pulled as tight as it would go. She waited for it to snap. She waited for the spark that would send her swinging, scratching, clawing her way back to the top—
"I know," he said.
The silence after that was almost as unbearable.
Eventually, Fengmian spoke again. "He still won't press charges?"
"No." When Fengmian didn't respond, she went on, with as much confidence as she could muster when her guard was still up and anticipating an attack, "We will convince him."
"Ziyuan."
She tried not to look as surprised as she felt when she finally looked over. It was not the only time he had ever called her by name, but each time still felt like it was the first, new and invigorating.
Even she could tell her reaction to something so basic was a sad one.
She had never considered herself overly enamored by the concept of romance when she was young, but she had thought of it. When she had imagined it, it was always in—what she realized now—the most spectacular sense of the word. Date nights every weekend type romance. Passionate touch every free moment type romance. Long car rides together and never running out of things to say type romance. Something truly worth wanting, worth chasing, worth fighting for, that type of romance.
Their reality had never been that sweet, not even when they were young, and their future had not yet seemed so bleak. Still, he stepped closer towards her now as if this had always been their truth. He placed his hands on either side of her face. He looked into her eyes for a long moment, then he tilted her head, and laid a kiss on her lips. Just like that.
It was short, chaste, yet her breath was still, ridiculously, stolen. She was far too old to be blushing like this, especially over something so simple.
Simple, and yet, when was the last time he had kissed her? When they were younger, newly married, they had kissed often enough. Perhaps not every time they left the house for work and every time they came back like some couples did, but enough that he felt more and more like a husband and not just a man she had married for familial gain.
But then came a sickly daughter, and then a son who was too much like his mother, and then a second son who was everything the first one wasn't, and those tentatively blissful days faded into obscurity.
Now, the kisses were rare, only coming during their nights of passion now, themselves so few and far between she couldn't even remember when the last time had been. Always when it was dark, because she could not bear for him to see how eager she was to please a man that never really wanted her. Always when it was so dark that despite the fact that he had never once called her a name other than her own, he may still think of another, and she would never have to know it was true.
It was not dark now, and none of it felt like a lie. The kiss ended, but he did not leave, did not move his fingers from her cold jade features, did not take his handsome eyes away from hers. She too, could not pull away, could not roll her back to him like she did in their bed, both wanting him far away from her and wishing he would think to wrap his arms around her. She didn't pull away, because as much as she tried to deny it, the reality was that she lived for this, this feeling that she could not even share with her closest friend, because A-Mei had never loved Jin Guangshan, not the way Yu Ziyuan so thoroughly loved this man.
His hand trailed down to wrap around hers. His forehead pressed against hers. Her face burned even more, surely enough that it was noticeable. Absolutely ridiculous.
"What you did for A-Ying... thank you," he said, his words thick with honesty.
She forced herself to roll her eyes, more than willing to pretend that he hadn't just nearly knocked her off her feet. "You'd have done the same thing."
He shook his head against hers. "I don't know that I would have."
At that, she met his eyes.
"I don't know what I would have said. What I would have done. I don't know if I could have been in that room with him and saw—"
He took a deep breath, and said again, "Thank you."
She thought to argue with him, then acknowledged that there was absolutely no need to, and simply nodded. She said nothing else, just stayed here, in this moment, holding Fengmian's hand with the same one she had held Wei Wuxian's, the purple stone of her wedding ring pressing tight against his finger. Amethyst, because even though they had been young and practically strangers and he had likely only agreed to the marriage because he couldn't have his first choice, he had presented it to her somehow already knowing she would prefer it rather than the more western and popular diamond.
Perhaps they were not the romance she had idealized. Perhaps she should have done better, and Fengmian also should have done better. Perhaps they were not perfect or even good, but wasn't this beautiful in itself? Was this not the very thing that had kept her in love with him all these years? Knowing that their vow had not been for nothing, knowing that no matter what came, he would be here by her side?
It was not everything it should have been, could have been, could be... but it was enough for her before, and it was enough for her now.
Out the corner of her eye, Yu Ziyuan saw as the front doorway was suddenly reoccupied. She snatched her hand away, and only barely managed not to take an incriminating step away from her husband.
The children had appeared again, and Yu Ziyuan idly wondered how long it had been. A-Li's eyes were puffy and red. A-Cheng's looked infinitely similar. Wei Wuxian's eyes were as dull as ever, but his hair had been brushed, and A-Cheng stood like a soldier at his side, and A-Li's hand was again folded firmly with his.
"I'll talk to the police," Wei Wuxian said.
Yu Ziyuan's heart stopped beating.
'Are you sure?' was on her tongue. It looked like Fengmian wanted to ask the same. It would have been a reasonable question, all things considered. The change of heart seemed... abrupt, for one. For another, Yu Ziyuan remembered then that it was only Saturday morning proper. It had been the Friday night before that Wei Wuxian and A-Cheng had gone to the party. It had been in the wee hours of the morning that the attack had happened. It had still been just as early when they had first entered the hospital, and they had been there for hours. The boy was long overdue for some sleep, surely. He was long overdue for a chance to just rest.
Thankfully, Fengmian refrained from asking, and so did she. He knew just as well as she that this needed to be done, and as soon as possible. While the memories were freshest. While his resolve was still intact. She knew that if Wei Wuxian did not go now in this moment, he might never. Nothing good would come from doubting his decision now.
She eyed the children again, the single unit the three of them made, and thought that perhaps she shouldn't have been surprised by his change of heart at all. There was nothing Yu Ziyuan could have said that would have given Wei Wuxian this particular brand of strength, she knew. For that matter, there was nothing that Fengmian could have said either. His brother and sister, however, shared a piece of his heart that could not be rivaled. She ought to have known that if anyone could get through to him, it would be them.
A tension Yu Ziyuan hadn't even been aware she was holding suddenly felt more bearable. Not completely undone, but well on its way to being.
"Let's go, then," she said, and her family followed behind her.
They took one car—the SUV—to the police station. It was a much shorter drive than the first, their home only a few blocks down from the precinct. They spent the ride in silence, though the children whispered to each other in the backseat at times. Yu Ziyuan tried her best not to hear what was not meant for her, trying her best to focus only on the wind whipping against her face through the cracked window. It would likely be the last moment of peace any of them would have for a long while.
When they arrived, it was Fengmian who spoke to the officer at the front desk, who in turn informed them that a detective would be assigned to the case and would be speaking with Wei Wuxian shortly.
It was fifteen minutes of waiting when another officer came forward to escort him to the detective's office. It was perhaps due to protocol, or perhaps the look on Wei Wuxian's face that prompted the officer to say that another person could come along for moral support, so long as they did not coach him, interject with their own thoughts or feelings, or speak on events that they did not witness.
It was then that Wei Wuxian did not look to Fengmian, or A-Cheng, or even A-Li. He looked to her, Yu Ziyuan, and still hesitant but not as unsure as the first time, asked her once more, "Can you come with me?"
And Yu Ziyuan, even more sure despite all the eyes watching them in abject disbelief, said, "Yes."
Yu Ziyuan wondered who she would have to get in touch with about livening up rooms frequented by trauma victims. That the detective's office was just as impersonal as the examination room had been was wholly unacceptable as far as she was concerned.
Wei Wuxian did not seem to be affected by the blandness of the room as much as she could tell. He was looking down at his cellphone, the screen nearly completely shattered by whatever forces had befallen it during the attack. She added that to the list of things she would need to fix.
Wei Wuxian stared at the phone for a long time, his face blank but seeming barely held together all the same, before he finally looked up and saw her watching.
A moment passed, before he said, blankly, "Lan Zhan asked if I was alright."
"I see," she said, for lack of anything better.
It appeared he still took it as an invitation, though. Even as he looked away, a short, near pitiful huff of laughter emanated from his chest. "He's never texted me before. Not first, I mean. It's like pulling teeth just to get him to respond at all. I must have looked really bad, then, for him to reach out like this."
Whatever good humor he had, false though it was, abruptly fell from his face. He swallowed thickly. His breath stuttered.
"He's going to know. Everyone is going to know, but he... he'll..."
Yu Ziyuan wanted to tell him that wasn't true. She wanted to tell him that his privacy would not be violated more than necessary in their pursuit of justice. She couldn't, though, not with how high profile both of their families were, not when this could potentially be the scandal of the decade. She could do many things, but she couldn't make a promise she couldn't keep.
Nonetheless, he barreled on before she could even open her mouth, his words spilling from his mouth as if they could not bear to be kept within any longer. "We shouldn't be here. We wouldn't be here if I wasn't so stupid. If I hadn't acted like an idiot. Now we have to go through all of this, and Wen Chao's father is never going to forget this and we're just, I didn't—I didn't even..."
He paused for a breath. His hands fisted tightly on his sweatpants. His eyes squeezed shut. His jaw clenched so hard it surely hurt, before he spoke again.
"I didn't say 'no'," he said like it took everything he had within him to admit it, like the truth of it hurt him unbearably. "I didn't say anything, I just—and now... now..."
Yu Ziyuan only let the silence sit for a single moment, before she asked, "Did you say 'yes'?"
His eyes opened. He looked over at her.
"Did you?"
His voice was small, nearly a whisper, "No."
"Did you ask them to do it? Did you want them to?"
"No."
"If you had told them that, would it have made a difference?"
He didn't even answer.
"Wen Chao assaulted you," she said plainly because that was what it was—a simple point of fact. "It doesn't matter what you said or didn't say, or what you did or didn't do. He made the choice to harm you and he will pay for it. If Wen Ruohan wants to get in the way, then he will pay for it too."
"I just..." For a moment, it looked like his eyes were starting to shine with wetness, but when he blinked it was gone. "I feel like we're making a mistake."
"Well, sometimes feelings can be wrong," she said truthfully, even though she had only just recently learned this. "Mine certainly have been before. That doesn't mean that they were right or true."
His eyes came to hers. She wondered if he could hear what she wasn't saying. Her feelings about her husband. Her feelings about A-Li and A-Cheng. Her feelings, most of all, about him.
"I cannot promise that this matter will stay between those it concerns," she went on. "I cannot promise that this feeling of yours won't persist. I can promise that this will all be worth it. I promise you I will make sure of that."
Maybe another woman would not be able to make that promise. Yu Ziyuan was not just any woman. She would never promise what she did not know was true in her heart.
He held her eyes for another moment. She let him look as deep as he wanted, let him read every line of truth she had to offer.
He dropped his eyes. He nodded, just once, but she knew it was real.
After a moment of silence, she felt very inclined to add, "Unfortunately, I cannot hope to tell you the workings of Lan Wangji's mind. However, if he were to think ill of you for this, then he was never worth your time in the first place."
He looked shocked at that. She wondered if there would ever be a time when her words didn't shock him.
Then, he said, lightly, "Well, I think he might be a little worth my time."
His second somewhat-of-a-joke with her. She wondered, also, if there would ever come a time when she would lose count.
She huffed, and said quite seriously, "I will be the judge of that."
He gaped at her ridiculously, like a fish. Surely, she had instilled better decorum into him and his siblings. Once this all had passed, she supposed she would have to craft some lesson reviews.
"What?" she asked when he continued to stare.
"It's just... you... you're acting..."
He cut himself off with the sigh of a boy who knew he had already lost the battle. "Never mind."
She knew she could not rightly say he was wrong for feeling off-kilter by her abnormal attitude towards him. She would feel the same if she stopped to let herself.
She pointedly did not. It was high time that abnormal became normal, and she would not let anything hold her back from achieving that, even herself.
She changed the subject. "You were not honest with me earlier."
He looked up, confused.
"You did not tell me the real reason you had left the party."
It took a moment for the words to sink in. Then, his face began to pale.
"I am not angry with you," she said. She was beginning to understand that sometimes, Wei Wuxian needed to hear things spoken plainly to properly hear it. "I only want to know why you felt you couldn't be truthful over such a minor detail."
"I just... I didn't..." He looked down at his lap. "It wasn't Jiang Cheng's fault."
"Of course, it wasn't," she agreed. "Just as it was not yours. Still, you must not tell lies or omit the truth. Not here. Not with me."
He said nothing, staring at his fingers as he scratched one against the other. He was listening, though. She wondered if it was only now, or if he had always listened so intently to the things she said.
She went on, "Perhaps you did not know this, so I will tell you now. There is nothing you can't tell. There will never be anything I am unwilling to hear, just as there will never be anything that I can't fix. You do not ever have to be dishonest with me. You do not have to hide from me."
She paused for a moment, giving her words a chance to settle. Then, "Do you understand?"
He took a long, deep breath. He didn't say anything for a while, but she did not rush him. Rather, she'd give him all the time in the world he needed to think over her words, so long as he understood by the end of it.
Eventually, his eyes darted up to her. He nodded, shortly, but with no hint of a lie.
"Good," she said, satisfied.
"I was going to get spicy snacks too," he muttered, sounding sullen.
She felt the corner of her lip twitch, just a bit. It seemed she no longer had to wonder just how exactly Wei Wuxian could so effortlessly steal a person's smile.
It was there, in that bland office, in the presence of an equally bland detective, that Yu Ziyuan heard the whole story.
She heard how they had cornered him just before he had reached the convenience store. How they all—except Wen Zhuliu, Wen Chao, and the girl—wore hoods so low he couldn't properly make out their faces. How they dragged him behind the abandoned inn, where there were no lights and no one to hear.
She heard how it was Wen Chao's little bitch of a girlfriend who took the pictures, who called out suggestions on what vulgar things they should do. How Wen Chao had said awful, demeaning things to him, things like, 'Don't bite, or I'll send these to that Lan you like so much,' or 'Where's that brother of yours? I bet he'd be as good as you.'
She heard, again, how he hadn't once said 'no'. How he had told himself it was because he knew they would not listen anyway and did not want to give them the satisfaction of seeing him beg. She heard how, really, he hadn't said anything because he couldn't, because when he tried to speak, no words would come. She heard how it was the same reason why he kept his eyes closed, not willing to open them when it meant he might cry, because it hurt, and they were laughing, and he was scared, and he just wanted it to be over.
She heard how once it was done, once every footstep had faded to nothing, he had finally opened his eyes, redressed himself, and walked to Caiyi hospital. How he had passed several gas stations and payphones and didn't stop at any of them. How he hadn't stopped because he did not want to end up here. He did not want to go and be touched all over by a doctor, to go to court, to testify, to do any of this. She heard how he never wanted anyone to know. How all he had wanted to do was forget.
She heard how he was willing, though, to seek justice, because every day that Wen Chao walked the streets freely was another day he could use to hurt someone else, and that just wasn't something Wei Wuxian could live with.
It was there—with Wei Wuxian's hand wrapped tightly around hers once more, the grip so strong she could not tell where he ended and where she began—that Yu Ziyuan heard it all.
Later, in a hallway not far from neither the office nor the lobby where their family still waited, abandoned except for only them two, he tried to apologize to her again.
"I know you said I don't need to say sorry—"
"So, don't. You do not owe me an apology, Wei Wuxian."
"I do," he said, quietly, eyes on his feet. "I've asked so much of you today, and I know it wasn't fair to you but I just—" he took a deep breath, steadying himself. "I know they are all going to... find out eventually but... I just couldn't... I couldn't say that kind of stuff in front of Uncle Jiang or Jiang Cheng, and I didn't want to make Shi—Jiang Yanli cry. And if I had to do it alone, I don't think... I don't think I would have done it."
And because she could not process that, because she needed more time to fully comprehend the power of finally being the right person, she said, "Do not disrespect your elder sister. Address her properly."
He blinked up at her, hesitantly nodded, then looked back down.
"And you have not asked me for anything I was not always willing to do for you."
"Oh."
"'Oh'?" She raised a brow.
"I just..." he started, sounding so confused it was almost heartbreaking. "Why are you saying all this?"
The instincts to bluster, to dodge his question, to step around the truth, were very strong in the ensuing moment. She had done it for so long that it was hard to combat. She refused to let it win, though. She had told him he did not need to hide from her. It was time she told herself the same.
She told him, "Because it is the truth. It has always been true."
He only stared at her with overly wide eyes. Wide, and a good deal expressive as well, for a change. She could see that the dull, lifelessness within him was starting to fade. Not so much to say that he had completely recovered, but just enough that it was noticeable.
She was more than grateful for that. It was a blessing really, to watch the life come back to the most lively boy she had ever known.
She took a deep breath, and went on, "I had thought you already knew that, but I should not have assumed. That it took you becoming the survivor of something so heinous for me to plainly tell you this is — an error on my part."
She stumbled over the last bit, but once the words were out, she realized just how doable it had been. It had not been easy to admit to her flaws out loud, but it hadn't killed her. She was still standing, still capable of looking him in the face, still capable of going forward.
His eyes were the widest they had been so far, every fleck of dark brown in his eyes practically smacking her with their intensity. She might have faltered if the attention had gone on for any longer, but eventually, he dropped his still wide eyes to the ground. His mouth moved soundlessly around a single word.
"What?" she prompted.
"'Survivor'", he said again. "That's, um... that's a very strong word."
Something within her softened. It made the honesty of her thoughts feel less daunting to share.
"Of course, it is," she said. "You are a strong person."
He was staring at her again, jaw dropped enough that she could see the white tips of his teeth, and suddenly, with no warning at all, the words she could not manage to say early were determined to burst free, as if her voice could not imagine saying anything else at that moment, "And I'm proud of you."
Silence. Not even the ticking of a far-off clock. Not even the thrum of distant cars driving by. Nothing, other than him and her, and all the days that made up the decade they had known each other lying in between them. All the things she had never said, all the things she had never done, all the time they would never get back, standing right there in the middle.
"Do you mean it?" he asked, voice small, like the first time she had ever seen him standing on her doorstep with Fengmian's hand clenched in his and his eyes on his busted sneakers, as he said, "Hello, Madame Yu."
She nearly scoffed as she replied, "You think I would waste my lies on you?" Then she wanted to berate herself, wondering why every word she said had to be so combative.
He only laughed, though, a short little broken chuckle, but a chuckle all the same. "No, I guess not."
"I meant what I said," she went on, because now that the words had been said, she couldn't bear to have him believe anything else. "The sacrifices you are making, the strength you are displaying, it is not going unnoticed. You should be proud of yourself, as well."
He seemed to think about that for a long while.
"Shijie did point out to me that... that someone else could get hurt if I kept quiet," he said. His hands curled into fists even as he took a long breath, his chest shuttering as he held it in and released it. "But she also said that I should do it because... because I deserve justice. Because I'm worth it."
Yu Ziyuan asked, "Do you believe that?"
A pause. Then he said, quietly, "I want to."
Not acceptance, but facing the right direction. One step, she reminded herself. One step was still moving forward.
"Yes, you should believe it. You should believe it because it's true, Wei Wuxian. I know that better than anyone." With all the confidence she had within her, she told him the truest thing she had ever known, "A-Li, A-Cheng, and you... you all are worth the world."
His bottom lip trembled, and his face began to cave. His chest shuddered and his eyes turned glossy. Even still, he did not let go. Something deep inside him refused to let go.
She wanted to ask why he was holding back. She wanted to tell him that bottling it all up was just another way Wen Chao and all those bastards still had power over him, as if she had not done that very thing herself all her life. She wanted to tell him that he did not have to fight anymore. She wanted to tell him that he had nothing to prove, not to his attackers, not to her, not to anyone.
She asked nor said none of it. She did not ask stupid questions to receive stupid answers. She did not tell him anything he did not truly need to hear in that moment.
She reached out and pulled him into a hug.
For a moment, he was stiff, the lines of his back taut beneath her one hand, his very hair frigid underneath her other, his forehead tightly motionless against her shoulder. Then she felt the shift of him moving closer, the slight bending of his knees so his face could bury into her collarbone.
She felt as the final thread holding him together came free.
He did not sob, but she could hear his small gasps for air, the roughness of his breathing. She could feel his shoulders trembling. She could feel his tears bleeding wet and hot through her shirt.
She thought of all of the evils that had brought him to this point, and a familiar rage simmered, but she cut the fire and closed the lid before it could boil over. There was no time for that now. Instead, she focused on holding him firm against her, the feel of his hair beneath the might of her grip. She focused on nothing but him.
His hands came up but went no further than to clench at the fabric of her shirt at her sides. She herself had not moved from the position she had pulled him into. They did not know how to hug each other, really. This here, though—his nose brushing her neck, her fingers curled securely in his hair—what they could do, was more than she ever thought she'd have with him. Even like this, she could feel the agony raging inside of him. Even like this, she could hold him thoroughly through it. Even like this, it was more than enough.
The longer she held him, the more a pain of her own began to come to life. It was a strange pain—not like what the rage felt like when it grew too fast and too hot. Not like the unbearable pain of her failures. It was something different. Profoundly different, like the lingering sting after a crushing weight had been lifted from her bones.
It might be a good ache. She could not really tell. Whatever kind it was, it made her eyes sting with just enough tears that her vision blurred. She did not even get the satisfaction of calling them angry tears. They were tears of unbridled anguish.
Weak, whispered in her mind as she let the tears brim around her lashes. But it was just that—a whisper. It was a meaningless word that held no candle to the sweet ache of pain flowing away.
It's too late, she had thought, so viscerally that it could have only been true. Too late to fix what she had broken. Too late to be what he needed. Too late to change for the better.
All those years, all those months and days and hours she had let slip by... yet she told herself now in this moment that it was not too late. It was not too late because she was here, and so was Wei Wuxian. Alive and breathing and wrapped up in the safest place she could ever guarantee him. It was not too late, because she had found the precious thing that had been right in front of her all along, and she would not lose it again.
She did not know how long they stayed there, hugging and crying out in the open for anyone to see. Eventually, though, the tears began to subside. Wei Wuxian's lungs started to accept slower drawls of air. Yu Ziyuan's vision cleared to properly see the dark head of hair still pressed against her shoulder.
After another beat of silence, he finally pulled away. His cheeks were red and smeared with tears, and he made no move to hide it from her. She, too, did not hide the wetness still hanging from her lashes.
She said, "Whenever you have need of me, know that I will always be here. Always. Believe it. Don't ever forget it."
"I won't," he said, still sniffing from the tears. She hoped more than anything that he meant it.
She wondered how Wei Wuxian felt just now. Perhaps it was too early to say 'better'. Hopefully, at least, he felt lighter. Less like he was splitting down the middle. He deserved nothing less.
"I'm really tired," he said after a while, and she could see it on his face.
"You will rest then," she told him. "I'm sure A-Li will have soup waiting for you when you wake up."
His eyes glowed a bit at that.
She made to turn then, to head back to where their family still waited for them. However, before she could get too far, he stopped her.
When she looked back at him, he said, "I just... wanted to say thank you."
Her brow furrowed. Then she shook her head. "I haven't done anything worth your gratitude."
"You did," he insisted, in a tone that made it clear he would accept nothing else. "You really did. Thank you for—being here. With me. For everything. You don't know how... how much it means to me. Thank you."
She thought, not for the time, that for all that Wei Wuxian had only known his parents for so little of his life, he was still clearly the product of their union. In every way he was not his father's son, he was his mother's. Yu Ziyuan had hardly known the woman, yet she could see every inch of her in the son she left behind. From her obnoxious personality to her smile to her eyes, Yu Ziyuan could see Cangse Sanren.
For all that Yu Ziyuan had tried not to look at him, she still had always seen so much in Wei Wuxian over the years. She saw a funny, chaotic, high-spirited child. She saw a bold, intelligent, creative boy. She saw a young man who loved mischief and challenges, who loved his friends and his family, who loved living life. She saw Cangse Sanren. She saw Wei Changze. She even saw Fengmian at times.
Looking at him now though, at the determined gleam in his eyes, at the steel straightening his spine, at the way he dared her to argue against him...
She dared to say she saw herself.
"Thank you for putting your trust in me," she said, because if she was going to be more honest with herself, she might as well learn how to be honest with him as well. "Perhaps I will be able to earn more of it."
His jaw dropped a bit, clearly thrown off balance. She supposed she ought to enjoy the days she'd still be able to keep him on his toes.
"You don't have to..." he started, but let the words trail off into nothing.
She nodded, satisfied. "I see you're learning to realize when you're saying something ridiculous. It seems you can be taught."
He laughed, and it was surprisingly loud and bright. At finally seeing something like real joy on his face again after what had been far too long without, she was determined to do everything in her power to keep it there.
After all, amongst all those things she saw within Wei Wuxian, she also saw a boy who shared a piece of her heart. She couldn't think to do anything less.
Yu Ziyuan waited until her household had settled before she finally made the call she had been anticipating since the thought first entered her head.
A-Li was in the kitchen, cooking her signature soup. Wei Wuxian was sleeping soundly on the couch, his head pillowed on A-Cheng's slightly stiff thigh, the latter clearly not used to the proximity but still welcoming it nonetheless. On the other end of the couch, with Wei Wuxian's ankles in his lap (a position she suspected had initially been meant in a teasing way), sat Lan Qiren's second nephew, who had made a surprise appearance with seemingly no intentions to leave any time soon. He was sitting a bit awkwardly, looking distinctly out of place, particularly given that A-Cheng was currently his only company. But he was here.
She still believed it was a bit early to properly determine Lan Wangji's worthiness as a partner for Wei Wuxian, but he was admittedly earning himself some points in Yu Ziyuan's book, at least so far.
As she crossed through the hallway towards their staircase, she passed Fengmian, who was still on the phone with the family lawyer. Their eyes met, and the look in his told her she wouldn't even have to fill him in on what she was planning. He knew his wife just as well as she knew her husband, after all.
In the privacy of her bedroom, she took out her phone and dialed the number she naturally knew by heart, well aware of the ticking metaphorical time clock. A warrant had been issued for the arrests of Wen Chao, Wen Zhuliu, and Wang Lingjiao so far, the only assailants Wei Wuxian could identify by name. There likely would not be much time before they were apprehended.
Yu Ziyuan was no fool. They would be arrested, yes, but there was no telling how long they would actually be in custody. Beyond that, there was no telling exactly how the trial would play out. The Wen family had so many connections after all.
But Yu Ziyuan had connections too.
The line connected. "Hello?"
"You're a sister to me, A-Mei," Yu Ziyuan said.
A heavy code in a simple phrase. You're my sister, so you'll do anything for me, just as I would for you.
A moment went by. Then, "I am."
"I have need of that miscreant your husband has in his employ." The one that she was not, technically, supposed to know about.
A pause. "And to whom should I send a visit from Xue Yang?"
"Wen Chao, Wen Ruohan's second son. Wen Zhuliu as well, if he can manage it, but prioritize the first."
Silence followed after. Yu Ziyuan went on, "I don't want him dead."
She had not, after all, put Wei Wuxian through every hell this morning had to offer for nothing. He would have his justice. He would know that it was his own strength and resilience that would put every bastard that had touched him behind bars.
"I want him hurt," she went on though, because she, too, would have her vengeance. "He is guilty of a heinous crime. I want to make sure he does not think to plead anything else. I want him hurt enough that he'll know the only place left safe for him is the jail cell he'll rot in."
She crossed the room until she was standing right in front of her dresser, staring down at Zidian. She lifted the knife, circling her finger around the hilt. "Tell him that I've got a specific weapon I want him to use, as well. And if he would like any specific tips, he is free to ask me."
It was dangerous, she knew. She was already too closely tied as it was. If the plot was discovered... she would not come out unscathed. It was a risk. It was such a risk.
But it was the closest she could come to drawing blood herself, so it was more than worth it.
"This is risky, A-Yuan," A-Mei said, certainly aware that she was echoing Yu Ziyuan's thoughts.
Yet, it was not a dismissal. Her closest friend knew her well, after all. She knew that Yu Ziyuan would never back down because of something so limiting as 'risk'. She knew that, really, it was the risk that made Yu Ziyuan crave it so badly.
Nothing worth wanting came easy, after all. No, it was the challenge that made it worthwhile. It was the combination of cause and consequence that bred the depth of her desire for success. It was the pumping blood of uncertainty and anticipation that made a win so sweet.
And she would win this. She would win this for herself, because she was a mother and did not take that honor lightly. She would win this for A-Li and A-Cheng, so no one would ever think to touch a child that belonged to her again. She would win this for her husband, so he would know just who it was that would always protect him and their family above anything else.
She would win this for Wei Wuxian. Because he needed it. Because he deserved it. Because he was so worthy of it. Because he was hers.
Because the only thing stronger than any of her hatred was all of her love.
And woe to anyone who struck the fury of both.
The End