It had started off as just another ordinary visit to Lan Xichen's cottage. I didn't think anything of it and there didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary at first. The more I visited him these days, the more he looked like he was starting to perk up. I'd noticed that he was starting to wear cleaner robes and that he was starting to put more thought into his physical appearance. It couldn't have just been just my presence that had anything to do with it right? When he greeted us at the door, I couldn't help but feel that something was off about him.
"…and then Lan-Xianshang made Huang-xiong run extra laps around the dojo! I think he's still writing lines right now," I say as I concluded my story.
"…oh what?" asks Lan Xichen, looking around confused. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear that first part."
"Xiong zhang?" asks Lan Wangji worriedly. "Are you okay?"
Lan Wangji reaches a hand towards his brother, only for him to put his hand down gently on the table. I'd noticed that he hadn't even touched the snacks I'd brought along with me or his tea too. Normally he adored the things I made, even if they weren't made perfectly or were made with the assistance of Lan Wangji. I knew that sometimes he could be absent minded but, this didn't seem like his usual absent mindedness. He looked tired, like he hadn't been getting enough sleep. Not that anyone could tell since his eyes were always rimmed with dark circles underneath them. Though this time around, those circles under his eyes seemed to look darker than usual. Didn't he also look paler than usual?
"SOMETHING'S WRONG," I hear Guangyao say. "THIS ISN'T HIS USUAL SELF."
"What do you mean?" I ask him.
"I…I'm fine, Wangji," he says dismissively. "Really, I-"
He's interrupted as a fit of hoarse coughing escapes from his lips and causes him to double over. I look at him with concern as my hand is tightly gripping Wei Wuxian's sleeve. Lan Wangji is now over at his brother's side rubbing his back with one hand until he finally calms down enough, his cheeks flushed slightly pink from the force. Wei Wuxian immediately stands up, concern etched on his face.
"Xichen-ge, perhaps we should leave…" says Wei Wuxian as he grasps my hand in his, "you look like you're a bit under the weather. Come on, let's go, Xiao-Hua."
"No wait!" he suddenly sayss as he stands up, "I'm fine! Really! I-"
Almost like he was a marionette that had its strings cut, I watched in horror as Xichen's eyes began to roll into the back of his head and his body began to tilt and twist dangerously to the side. With nearly lightning fast reflexes, Lan Wangji manages to catch him by his shoulders before he hits his head on the floor. His cheeks are flushed red and his breathing is becoming ragged and hoarse.
"ER-GE?!" exclaims Guangyao in a scared and panicked voice.
I nearly scream out loud in surprise, but I choke it down so as not to make the situation even worse. I sit there staring at him with wide and nearly bulging eyes and panic rising in my chest. Was this what Xichen felt when he saw me passing out that day? It was like he was giving me a taste of my own medicine.
"Wei Ying! Go to the medical pavilion right now and get a healer!" he tells him in a scared tone I've never heard from him before. "Lihua, go to the kitchen right now and get your Shibo a glass of water!"
He didn't have to tell us twice what to do. I bolt towards the kitchen just as I hear the sound of the front door slamming behind Wei Wuxian and the sounds of his frantic footsteps crunching in the snow behind him.
"Well, the good thing is that it's nothing too serious," says Jinghua as she checks Xichen's vitals. "He does have a bit of a light fever, but he'll be able to manage it if he gets enough sleep and drinks enough fluids. His ankle should be fine after a few days, although…"
She proceeds to give Xichen a very sharp death glare as she is channelling spiritual energy into his ankle with her hands. Xichen seems to shrink under her glare; almost like he was a child caught stealing cookies from a cookie jar. She looked like she was going to kill him, or at least take that forehead ribbon of his and strangle him with it.
"How many times have I told you to take better care of yourself?!" she snaps at him. "You only have one life in this world! Are you going to keep making your family worry about you? And to think you even made the cute little disciple of your brother worry about you!"
The way she's lecturing him almost reminds me of my mother, although with less poison and more genuine concern. She didn't even care that she was lecturing someone who had a higher rank than her. At the end of the day, no matter what your social status was, you still wound up getting sick and being treated all the same at the end of the day.
He'll be okay won't he?" I ask Guangyao nervously.
"IT'LL BE FINE." He says, though something in his tone tells me he isn't too sure about that. "I'M SURE IT'S JUST SOMETHING MINOR."
Little did I know that this was only a prelude to a storm that was slowly brewing beneath the surface.
The next few days after that incident, I had heard from Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian that Lan Xichen had caught a cold. It wasn't anything too serious, but I was still worried about him. As minor as colds were, they were still dangerous and not to be taken lightly. Healthcare in Ancient China was a lot different from that of healthcare in modern day Canada. There weren't any fancy over-the-counter antibiotics that you could take for a really sore throat or a vaccine you could take to give your body the tools it needed to fight off an infection. All you could do were take bitter and smelly concoctions that made your stomach churn and pray that they would work on whatever ailment you had.
"Xiao-Hua, what's wrong?" Wei Wuxian asks me over dinner one day. "You haven't touched your food at all."
I look at my bowl of rice sitting on the table and sigh. I was that easy to read huh? You couldn't really eat much if your heart was in turmoil. I nibble on a small mouthful of rice, chewing on it slowly.
"Will…will Shibo be okay?" I ask him.
Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji both exchange looks with each other before Lan Wangji picks some leafy vegetables with his chopsticks and deposits them in my bowl. Despite the fact that they were kind of bitter tasting and watery, I still nibbled absentmindedly at them to be polite. Wasting food was forbidden after all.
"He'll be okay, Xiao-Hua," Lan Wangji assures me. "He's just a bit under the weather right now. We'll go visit him again when he's feeling a bit better."
"Do you promise?"
"I promise. We don't want you getting sick after all."
I go to bed that night still thinking about Lan Xichen tossing and turning in bed all by himself in that cottage in the woods. I try to tell myself that he's been doing this for three years, so he's got to be okay. But the thoughts don't leave me. They gnaw away at me instead. This wasn't the first time I've dealt with someone saying that "They'll be fine" or "They'll be okay".
I think back to my grandmother who fought tooth and nail not only for my sake, but also for my sister. Growing up, we both saw her as being the mother that I wish I could have had. My mother had originally planned on abandoning me with her and taking my sister to mold into her golden child after my father walked out on us. But Ah-Ma wasn't having any of that nonsense with her, so she bitterly fought for custody over us and won.
Since that day, she sacrificed everything so that we could both grow up as normally as we could. And yet, it didn't stop her from sometimes working herself to the point of exhaustion. What she thought one day to be just a normal cold turned out to be something much more serious, and it would wind up killing her many years later. Surely Lan Xichen would be alright wouldn't he? He wouldn't over exert himself like Ah-Ma did right?
"Xiao-Hua, it's time for us to leave now," says Lan Wangji as he pulls me away from the checkers game I was currently playing with Lan Xichen (who Guangyao was TOTALLY not helping me cheat at despite my protesting).
"Aww, but Hanguang-jun! I was so close to winning!" I whine as I get up and smooth the front of my robes.
"You can play checkers with him some other time. But I think your shibo looks like he's in need of a nap and dinner. We can come visit him another time alright?"
Reluctantly, I wave goodbye to him as a fit of coughs overcomes him. I didn't want to leave him, but such was the way things were when you had your own life to live. I make my way out of the dining room and to the front of the cottage. Just as I had finished getting dressed, I heard a loud thud followed by the whooshing and howling of wind. I look up to see Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji struggling to push the door close as clumps of wet and heavy snow splattered onto the rug beneath them. Even though my body was so small, I still quickly got to my feet and helped them with pushing the door shut. After much resistance, we all managed to get it shut with a bang.
"Wangji? Wei Wuxian?" calls Lan Xichen from within the house. "What's going on?"
I rush back into the living room and gasp when I look out the window. There was a raging blizzard outside that hadn't been there when we first arrived in the afternoon. The winds and the snow had been so awful that all I could see was a haze of white that obscured the landscape. In fact, the force of the winds was even making the wooden shutters over the windows rattle and bang noisy in winter air.
"Xichen-ge, do you have extra beds for us?" Wei Wuxian calls from the hallway. "I think we're going to be stuck here for a while!"
Well, this was just great. Being stuck in the middle of a blizzard was one thing. Being stuck in a blizzard in Ancient China with someone recovering from a cold was another thing. Especially if said person lived in the middle of the woods on some mountains. As strict as the Gusu Lan sect was, I bet even they wouldn't dare go outside when the weather was this bad. Looks like we were stuck here until the storm blew over. The first order of business was to check if there were supplies available, which meant seeing if we had enough non-perishable food in the cellar as well as medicine, firewood, blankets and clothes for staying warm. We didn't know how long we would be stuck here, but we didn't want to just stand by and do nothing.
I remember one night before bedtime, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian recounted the story of how they were both stuck in a cave with a monstrous demon turtle for three days while recovering from horrific injuries inflicted upon them from the Wen sect. They both mentioned how because they were both stuck in there without much supplies aside from their weapons, they both had to conserve their energy through practicing inedia. I wondered if at some point I'd have to practice it in case things got dire.
"Ow!" I yelp as the blade of the knife I was holding sliced my finger open.
Lan Wangji immediately puts his own knife down as he walks over to see what happened. Sure enough, there's a small cut on my index finger that's starting to bead with blood.
"Are you okay?" he asks me as he examines my finger.
"I'm fine, Hanguang-jun, really!" I insist.
"You're bleeding," He says plainly. "Wash your hands while I come back with some bandages."
I sigh in defeat as I watch Lan Wangji disappear behind a door. There was no hiding things from him, was there? Though ironically enough, I was hiding something even bigger from him. A cut finger seemed insignificant in comparison.
"BE CAREFUL WILL YOU?" scolds Guangyao in the back of my mind. "WHAT IF YOU ACTUALLY CUT OFF A SECTION OF YOUR FINGER?"
"A-Yao… What are you, my mom?" I groan as I carefully clean my hands as well as my finger. "I may be a disciple of the great and powerful Hanguang-jun, but I still want to learn how to cook nonetheless."
"THAT MAY BE TRUE, BUT I'M SURE EVEN HE WOULDN'T APPRECIATE IT IF YOU WERE MISSING AN ENTIRE FINGER," he retorts sarcastically.
Although Lan Wangji had been teaching me how to cook, I was far from being as good as he was in terms of skill level. I was right now helping him with cooking dinner despite the fact that he could probably do this blindfolded and with his hands tied behind his back without my assistance. Cooking wasn't just something left for women or the servants to do; it was a survival skill. I didn't have the luxury of eating canned food or frozen dinners in this world, so it was important I learn how to do this correctly. He comes back later with a bit of cloth and a pair of scissors. I watch him carefully cutting off a piece of cloth and tying it tightly but snuggly around my finger.
"Why don't you go and find your shibo and Wei Ying while I finish up here?" he says while gently nudging me towards the door. "I'll call you once dinner is ready."
As subtle as he was being, I knew what he meant. He had now kicked me out of the kitchen. I had a long way to go before I could be promoted to his little sou-chef. I made my way out and headed towards the stairs. I'd been here multiple times already, but this was my first time exploring the upper levels. The steps of the stairs creaked and moaned as I climbed them while I braced myself against the wall with my hands. When I reached the top of the stairs, I was greeted with a long hallway with multiple doors on both sides. I could hear the muffled voices of Lan Xichen and Wei Wuxian drifting from one of them.
As I make my way down the hallway, I feel my foot stepping on something. I look down to see what looks like a piece of folded paper lying in the middle of the floor. There's now a giant footprint covering most of the sheet, much to my horror. When I pick it up and try to dust off the footprint on it however, I notice that there's writing on one side of it. It seems to be a letter from the looks of it. Judging by the fact that it hadn't yellowed yet, it looked as though it had been written recently. I feel my heart racing and a painful tightening in my chest as I read it, my eyes widening in shock. Though it was disorganized and slightly messy, I could see little circular and rippled stains on it, with some of the words being smudged and bleeding into other words as though the person who had written it had been crying. This what it said:
To my dearest A-Yao,
I thought it would be time for me to put my thoughts down on paper, to make sense of the turmoil in my heart. It's now been two, no three, years since you've left this world on that fateful, rainy day. The hole you've created in my heart still hasn't healed over from the wounds you'd inflicted upon me. There are days I still can't believe that the very person who I met all those years ago as a humble attendant of the Nie clan lied to me and betrayed my trust, leaving nothing but a mountain of bodies to your name. You still haunt my dreams as a bloodied phantom, mocking me with cruel words and syrupy smiles.
Was it all just a sick game to you? Were Da-ge and I nothing more than just stepping stones for you to use in your twisted schemes? When you told me that day that you never intended to hurt me, was that all a lie too? Was that kind and gentle soul that I had met been nothing but a lie as well? Had there even been a "Meng Yao" in the first place at all? No, the "Meng Yao" I knew died in the Sunshot campaign all those years ago. And the person that came out of it was just a twisted and heartless parody wearing his skin.
I wanted to believe in you, that you were still capable of doing great things despite having such a sad and painful past. Who was the man I had fallen in love with all those years ago that saved me when I was on the run from the Wens? The man I spent many a hot summer night sneaking secret kisses from within the gardens of Koi Tower away from prying eyes? The man I had unwittingly and foolishly taught the songs and techniques of the Lan sect? I should have listened to Da-ge when he expressed his concerns about you, but now it's too late. How can I even look at Huaisang anymore knowing that I indirectly contributed to his older brother's demise? How can I even look at the family and loved ones of those people that you'd hurt knowing that I contributed somehow to their downfall? We all paid the price for my foolishness and naivety that fateful day.
And yet, even though you had long since passed on, I can't help but feel conflicted whenever I think of you. Are you even worth grieving over? I miss the way your kisses feel, the way the dimples on your cheeks lit up your face when you smiled, the way you laughed, everything about you. I miss those carefree summers I spent with you in Lanling or those cold winter nights we'd spend huddled together by a brazier in Gusu. I can't help but wonder if my breaking up with you had contributed to your descent into darkness.
If I had stayed with you or put my foot down, would you have stayed alive? Would you not haunt my nightmares every night or leave me second guessing myself every time? Would we have still had a chance in a world that wouldn't have accepted us? In any case, it's too late for us, too late to say I'm sorry and too late to take back what has been done. I've spent many a sleepless night playing inquiry for you, and yet you've yet to reply. Perhaps it's for the best if we don't talk to each other. I don't think I have the courage to face you again.
I end this letter by saying goodbye to you. Perhaps in a kinder and happier world, we'll meet each other again. In a world where your heart will be kinder and happier, where you don't have to lie to people nor use other people as pawns. Perhaps if I do see you and Da-ge again in the next life, we could start over again as friends before becoming lovers. And although I'm still angry at you, I miss you dearly. Until we meet again, farewell, Jin Guangyao.
My hands are trembling and my mouth feels dry, like I swallowed dozens of cotton balls. I'm too shocked and speechless to say anything as I fold the letter back into its original form. The burning in my chest is now unbearable as I hear Guangyao muttering variations of "oh god, what have I done?" while sounding like he was on the verge of crying again. I bite my bottom lip to keep myself from making any noise as hot tears are beginning to flow out of my eyes again.
As I read this letter, I could feel that tightness and burning in my chest becoming more and more unbearable. The amount of guilt, anger and heartbreak that flowed from his words said more than enough about the state of heart right now. This was how Guangyao was to be remembered after he had passed away. All he had to his name now was nothing more but a legacy of lies and bloodshed. I couldn't help but think of one thing after slipping this letter underneath the door of a nearby room:
"How could you do this to him?"