Mistaken Love And Hate

3. Shadows of Estrangement

Wei Wuxian's life was a delicate balancing act, teetering between his duty as a guardian and his own fragile sense of self-worth. The whispers about his past never ceased. Some claimed he had seduced Lan Qingheng for wealth and status; others alleged he had been the cause of the Lan couple's divorce. The truth, however, was far more tragic.

Wei Wuxian had agreed to marry Lan Qingheng under desperate circumstances. His grandmother, the only family he had left, had fallen gravely ill. The treatment she needed was far beyond his means, and he had no one to turn to. When Lan Qingheng, a prominent alpha from the esteemed Lan family, offered him marriage in exchange for financial support, Wuxian's initial reaction had been one of disbelief and anger. But desperation won over pride. He accepted, knowing full well the union was devoid of love and would bring him nothing but scorn.

In the end, the money came too late. His grandmother passed away mere days after the marriage ceremony. Her absence left a void in Wei Wuxian's life, one that his marriage could never hope to fill. From the outset, the relationship was fraught with tension. Lan Qingheng, though well-meaning, was burdened by his own conflicts—torn between his duty to his family and his feelings for the omega he had wed out of convenience.

When Li Qingyu, Lan Qingheng's wife, discovered the arrangement, her devastation was palpable. To her, Wei Wuxian was a usurper, an intruder who had shattered her marriage and her family. Unable to endure the humiliation, she left, taking with her any semblance of peace in the household. Her departure only deepened the animosity directed at Wei Wuxian.

Despite this, Wei Wuxian took on the role of Lan Wangji's caretaker with a fierce determination. He shielded the boy from the harshest truths about his father, choosing instead to preserve Lan Qingheng's image as a noble and honorable man. In his heart, Wei Wuxian knew the boy deserved to hold onto that ideal, even if it was built on fragile foundations.

The years that followed were grueling. Wei Wuxian poured every ounce of his energy into raising Lan Wangji. He ensured the boy's education met the impeccable standards of the Lan family, often staying up late into the night to review lessons and prepare materials. He sacrificed his own comfort to provide Wangji with a stable life, yet his efforts were rarely acknowledged.

The household's disdain for him was unrelenting. Servants whispered behind his back, their words dripping with contempt. "He only married the master for money," one would say. "And now he thinks he's part of the family," another would sneer. Wei Wuxian heard every word, but he endured it all with quiet resilience. His only solace was Wangji.

The boy showed unwavering allegience to him through his childhood. The first ten years of Wei Wuxian's life in the Lan family were all about Lan Wangji- his joy, happiness, likings, hobbies. And Lan Wangji's joy all revolved around Wei Wuxian. They were inseparable and envy of all. It was only after Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen returned, Lan Xichen now a responsible adult and Lan Qiren an elderly that Lan Wangji too started to change, the boy's growing resentment cutting deeper than any insult.

Lan Wangji's hostility was both understandable and heartbreaking. To him, Wei Wuxian was the reason his mother had left, the man who had sullied his family's name. Wangji's cold demeanor evolved into outright defiance as he grew older, his sharp words often laced with the bitterness of a child who felt betrayed.

One evening, as Wei Wuxian sat by the fire mending one of Wangji's robes, the boy's voice broke the silence. "Why do you pretend to care?" Wangji asked, his tone icy. "Is it guilt? Or are you trying to prove something to yourself?"

Wei Wuxian looked up, his hands stilling. "I care because I made a promise," he said softly. "To you, and to myself."

"A promise?" Wangji's eyes narrowed. "To replace my mother? To make yourself look noble?"

The accusation stung, but Wei Wuxian met Wangji's gaze with quiet resolve. "A promise to take care of you. To ensure you have a chance at the life you deserve."

Wangji turned away, his jaw tight. "I don't need your care. And I don't need you."

The words were a dagger to Wei Wuxian's heart, but he did not let it show. Instead, he simply resumed his mending, the firelight casting shadows on his tired face.

As the years passed, the dynamic between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji remained fraught with tension. But beneath Wangji's resentment, there were moments of reluctant acknowledgment. He saw the sacrifices Wei Wuxian made, even if he refused to admit it. When Wei Wuxian fell ill one winter, Wangji found himself standing outside the man's room, listening to the ragged sound of his breathing. For the first time, he felt a pang of worry.

Lan Xichen's return to the household brought with it a flicker of hope. The elder brother's warmth and understanding offered a contrast to the cold atmosphere that had settled over the family. Xichen's presence seemed to soften Wangji, if only slightly. He encouraged Wangji to see Wei Wuxian not as an enemy, but as a person who had endured his own share of suffering.

"Wangji," Xichen said one evening, "he's done more for you than you realize. Perhaps it's time to let go of the anger."

Wangji's response was measured, but firm. "You weren't here. You don't know what it's like. He has pretended to be good and noble for so long that it is sickening. You can't imagine the impossibly high standards that I held him upto, all of which crashed down on me."

"No, I can't," Xichen admitted. "But I do know that forgiveness isn't for him. It's for you."

One night, unable to sleep, Wei Wuxian found himself in the courtyard, the moonlight casting a pale glow over the garden. He sat beneath the old willow tree, folding paper cranes. It was a habit he had picked up as a child, a way to calm his restless mind. The sound of footsteps made him look up, and he was surprised to see Wangji standing a few feet away.

For a long moment, neither spoke. Then Wangji stepped closer, his gaze fixed on the cranes. "Why do you make these?" he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

Wei Wuxian smiled faintly. "They're a symbol of hope. When I was little, my grandmother used to tell me that if you folded a thousand cranes, your wish would come true."

Wangji hesitated before sitting down beside him. "Did your wish come true?"

Wei Wuxian's smile faltered. "Not yet."

For the first time in years, Wangji allowed himself to look at Wei Wuxian without the filter of anger. He saw the lines of exhaustion etched into the man's face, the quiet determination in his eyes. Tentatively, he reached for a piece of paper.

As the night wore on, they folded cranes together in silence. And though the past could not be erased, in that moment, they began to bridge the gap that had kept them apart for so long.

It became their thing. In the light of the day Wangji kept resenting Wei Wuxian but under the moonlight, their silences spoke to each other. Wei Wuxian never brought up the past or the reasons behind his actions. He never spoke, only replied to whatever Wangji had to ask and Wangji never asked why. Their silence dragged on as they continued to fold the cranes.