A/N: As always, I recommend that you read Wujiu's second chapter before this, as the stories jump back and forth between perspectives. Reading them side by side will give you the perfect back and forth.
As I've written these, I've noticed that Bi'an's chapters are shorter, although he is my main muse. I think it's because I have more planned for him in later chapters and Wujiu focuses a LOT on him as is? Not sure! However, for those of you who love Xie Bi'an, know that you are not alone in this and he will have his time to shine soon!
We could not have been more different, you and I.
I was born at the peak of life's mountain and you at the base of its valley, always ready to face the uphill struggle. My father was a bureaucrat who traveled from the village to the city—a noble and scholar viewed with high regard in the eyes of the world. Yours was a trader who had been met with great misfortune—a man who worked every day of his life to support a child and maintain residence over both your heads, honourable in his own right but given disdain he never deserved. Many of the upper society members who lived in or on the outskirts of the village looked down on those who worked beneath them, and as a result, that brought further strain to you and your father.
I learned all about those struggles the longer I stayed around you, and I grew to hate high society for creating conflicts that you did not deserve. As I later learned, the reason you pummeled that boy was because they were ridiculing your father. You were shocked that I reacted with displeasure, but how else should one defend the honour of their closest friend when they were spoken down to?
At least there was a happier conclusion of this arrangement. To my delight, Father, without hesitation or discouragement, allowed me to spend my days following you around the village. When I was not helping Mother or amidst my studies, permission was granted to join you outside on the days you were free from helping your father. Certainly, the worry of potential backlash was there. (The rumors of a "peasant boy" bringing harm to the children of nobility was a stench in the air that remained for a while, but I found it amusing that the other children never did mention your identity.) However, he insisted that this be a prime opportunity for me to learn that there were people much unlike me who deserved the same amount of patience, kindness, and respect as any noble insists to be given.
The opportunity was granted, certainly, and it was humbling to know how you viewed life differently from me; I must admit, though, I saw our connection primarily as a chance to develop my first authentic friendship. That was not the easiest declaration, being that you were nowhere near as approachable as you later became. In fact, it was initially difficult in my efforts to befriend you. Making small talk was nearly impossible sometimes, as you would shy away and mostly keep to yourself. (I took that as your progress in building trust). But without fail, you always showed up when I asked for you to meet me on the path—always at the same place and the same time without faltering from the routine.
And even though the differences were noticed first, there were far more similarities between us than expected. Although we were born a year apart in two different families, we had similar body types and facial features—even down to the way our lips curled (the rare times you would smile, anyways). The two of us additionally kept our hair long (matching braids, too, during the times you would let me tame your hair), and we were both relatively tall for our respective ages, although you were still slightly taller than I. Most importantly, though, we both held a strong sense of morality and a desire to pursue a higher purpose. With our specific circumstances, it made much sense for me to share those dreams alongside you.
Understandably, you did not want to be a trader like your father. You felt that you had a stronger presence in the world and a desire to show that someone of your status could achieve greatness. Your goal was to dedicate yourself to those in need so they could rely on your protection and aid. I found that admirable from the very start, although you tried to convince me that it was just some 'foolish dream of yours' that did not mean as much as I made it out to be.
"Wujiu, why would you call something so honorable 'foolish'?! Is it the words of the townsfolk that make you say such things?"
"Of course not! The things they say do not mean anything to me!" You huffed in distaste at the very idea—a habit of yours I had come to learn. "I simply know that there is a chance of it never happening, Bi'an." You paused then, taking a moment to reflect on your statement. "It is nice to think about. Not having to feel weak forever. Making Father proud to have me as a son instead of, well … living in the silence."
"Then do not settle for less. Never settle for less."
You were a boy of few words, but the ones you spoke rang profoundly in my ears. I knew from the beginning that I wanted to help you achieve that dream, no matter the circumstances, and in that moment, I swore to myself that I would do my best to ensure your success.
With that being said, I soon found myself bringing books and scrolls to our meeting spot so you could join in my studies alongside me. Beneath the tree near where we first met, we read together, wrote together, and enjoyed one another's company. Although poetry and literature were not part of your interests, you were a quick learner and found yourself impassioned when it came to historical writings and strategic documentations. This alone made me even more confident in your future plans.
Future plans aside, though, what we had then was far more than I ever would have expected or dreamed. What I wanted was a friend who understood me and saw me as an equal. What I received was Fan Wujiu, a boy filled with power and vulnerability, with passion and introspection, with a voice that could build and destroy in the same breath.
I can easily say that the passage of our budding friendship caused much happiness to blossom within me—I can only pray that you felt the same back then.
As I reached my early days of adolescence, we found ourselves inseparable. As your father became more and more successful in his trading, the fewer problems you received from the other villagers. In fact, there were many who would grant you greetings on our outings, and I could not help but find amusement in how you scrambled to participate in more polite customs.
I could not deny that your efforts were endearing, just as the rest of you. Even spotting the slightest glimpse, catching you waiting along the side of the path in our meeting spot as part of our daily ritual, would make the world glow around me.
I should have known much sooner that I loved you, but ignorance is to be expected from a child. I recall how my father gently insisted that I begin making attendance before the matchmaker in town as he went on his excursions. As I told him, my studies were more crucial than the consideration of settling down with a bride; perhaps one day, that would become my priority.
Ah … I have apologized to my ancestors multiple times now for that statement, for it never did become a priority. No bride could ever provide such fulfilling companionship. Until your eventual departure from the village, you were the sole person I consistently devoted my time to and who made me feel whole. Once you left, I felt a part of myself had gone missing for years before you ultimately found your way back home.
But that is a story for another time.
