Chapter 4: Hidden Behind The Mask

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"with another flick of his wrist- Zidian hit Wei Ying dead in the center of his back."

"Owww," Wei Ying exclaimed laying flat on the grass, "Just cuz your rich doesn't mean you can randomly hit people! I might be broke, but that doesn't mean I'm your target practice!" he pouted.

Lan Zhan felt his lips quirking up in a small smile at the sight of Wei Ying's scrunched up face. He looked like a despairing rabbit, as he adopted an expression of petulant annoyance.

A wave of yearning overcame Lan Zhan. He hadn't realized just how much he had come to enjoy these childish expressions that Wei Ying often made. The past 13 years had been bitter and cold, there was no laughter or joy in his life- just an empty, black and white world.

Lan Zhan pushed these thoughts aside. It didn't matter. Wei Ying was back. The heavens had answered his prayers and given him another opportunity. Lan Zhan wasn't going to waste his time dwelling in past. Instead, he was going to make the most of the future.

"What the fuck-" Jiang WanYin exclaimed, effectively pulling Lan Zhan out of his trance. He was shocked that Zidian didn't detect anything. Zidian was a very powerful cultivational weapon, and could expose deception. If a person's body was forcefully stolen, one whip from Zidian, and it would force the unwanted soul out of the body.

But Wei Ying was acting normal- apart from getting whipped by one of the most powerful cultivation tools in existence, he seemed to just fine.

"WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU?" Jiang WanYin hollered, voice trembling slightly.

"Sect leader Jiang, I think he's probably just another one of the Yiling Patriarchs imitators. I heard that he was tossed out of the Lanling Jin Sect for harassing one of their young masters," a disciple whispered in Jiang WanYin's ear.

"Yea, yea, he's one of those disgusting cut-sleeves," another disciple pipped, "He probably just got impatient and decided to use demonic cultivation as a way to develop his pitiful golden core."

"Oh, and did you hear his flute? That was awful. Even if the Yiling Patriarch somehow came back, there's no way he would choose to reincarnate as a pathetic cut-sleeve," a man dressed in purple disciple robes taunted.

Jiang WanYin scoffed, "It doesn't matter. Since he practices demonic cultivation, he should be punished regardless." Crooking his finger towards Wei Ying, he barked, "You, your coming to Yunmeng with me."

"But Sect Leader Jiang," one of Gusu's inner disciple's protested, "Since the man is clearly not Wei WuXian, why do you still want to torture him so?"

"Since when was it your turn to criticize me?" Jiang WanYin curled his lip. "Is this how Gusu trains it's pupils? Isn't the Lan Sect famous for its wall of discipline? I couldn't tell," he mocked.

"You are not taking him." Lan Zhan declared, voice breaching no argument.

Jiang WanYin was shocked speechless for a moment. He thought, since when did Lan WangJi care about some pathetic nobody that practiced demonic cultivation? Were they...? Oh no. Jiang Cheng didn't even want to think about that.

A look of disgust flitted across his face and he sneered before saying, "Look how the mighty have fallen. The all powerful Han-Guang Jun is chasing after a worthless cut-sleeve." He turned, facing his disciples, "Since Lan WangJi is so hell bent on protecting this man, let's leave them to it," he said, giving one final glare in Lan Zhan's direction before departing.

Lan Zhan took a deep breath and turned towards the juniors. "You are dismissed," he said coldly. They bowed and took their leave, quietly whispering among themselves.

Lan Zhan paid them no mind and spun towards his beloved. "Let's go home," he said, eyes tender.

Wei Ying just looked at him, eyes filled with an unspeakable suffering. Sadness pooled in the depths of his silver eyes. His eyes that once glowed like the sun and moon, were now dull and tarnished.

"Where is home?" he asked, voice cracking.

Lan Zhan felt the piece of his soul that had just stitched itself together at the sight of Wei Ying, crumble and shatter into a million pieces with those words. It killed him to think that his Wei Ying had been betrayed so many times by so many people, that he didn't even know if he even had a home to call his own anymore. Lan Zhan vowed that he would never let his beloved feel this way again. As long as he lived, Wei Ying would always have a home. With him.

"Wherever you are." he murmured burying his face in Wei Ying's hair, "Wherever you want it to be."

Tears rolled down Wei Ying's face and indecision was clear on his face. "I want you to be home," he confessed quietly, "But I don't know if I can trust you."

Fat drops of salt slipped down Lan Zhan's cheeks at the admission. Wei Ying didn't trust him. But it didn't matter, because his Wei Ying still loved him. And as long as his Wei Ying loved him, it meant that he had a chance. A slim one, but an opportunity nonetheless.

Lan Zhan vowed to make the most of it.

"I know," he breathed, "But I promise you..."

"My arms will always be open."

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