Mistaken Love And Hate

10. Truths Unveiled

Lan Wangji sat motionless at the desk in the dimly lit study, his hands clenched tightly around the edges of a book that he had no intention of reading. The quiet in the room was oppressive, broken only by the occasional rustle of paper or the distant sound of footsteps from the hall. His thoughts, however, were a constant roar in his ears, drowning out everything else.

Xiao Xingchen's words replayed in his mind like a broken record: "He was sixteen. Your father bought him in exchange for a false promise of salvation." The phrase was seared into his consciousness, relentless and unforgiving. Each repetition of it twisted something deep inside him.

The clarity that followed the revelation was sharp, blinding. Wei Wuxian had been only sixteen, a child still, when Lan Qinghen had made him a pawn in his game. For years, Lan Wangji had regarded Wei Wuxian as a manipulator, a figure who had wormed his way into the Lan family for his own benefit. But now, the truth shattered that illusion. Wei Wuxian had never been the villain in this story. He had been the victim—bought and sold, used and discarded.

The truth hung heavy in the air, suffocating. How many times had he seen Wei Wuxian, pushed him away, accused him of being nothing but a liar, a fraud, a nuisance? How many times had he built walls between them, convinced that Wei Wuxian's very presence was a betrayal? All those years of resentment, of hatred, had been built on a lie, a false narrative spun by his father.

He had blamed Wei Wuxian for his own misery, for the betrayal he had never fully understood, but now it was clear that the betrayal had been far more one-sided than he could ever have imagined.

Lan Wangji's mind drifted back to the conversation he had had with Lan Qiren. His uncle, the patriarch of the Lan family, had been reluctant to speak of the past. At first, he had deflected Wangji's questions, offering only vague responses that only fueled his suspicions. But Wangji had been relentless.

Finally, with a sigh that seemed to carry years of regret, Lan Qiren had relented. His words were slow, deliberate, as if he feared the weight of the truth might collapse the world around them. "Your father was a man of many faults," Lan Qiren had said, his gaze heavy with something close to sorrow. "But the worst of them was his need for control. He took Wei Wuxian—no, he took a child—and promised him freedom and protection. In exchange, he gave that child nothing but chains."

Those words cut deeper than anything Lan Wangji had experienced. He had always revered his father, holding him up as a paragon of discipline and honor. But now, the truth of his father's actions made that pedestal crumble to dust. Lan Qinghen's so-called salvation had been nothing more than a manipulation, a twisted bargain that had stripped Wei Wuxian of his future and locked him into a life of servitude.

With that truth came another realization—one even more painful to confront. Lan Wangji had been blind to the ways Wei Wuxian had suffered. How could he not have seen it? How could he not have recognized the signs, the quiet defiance in Wei Wuxian's eyes, the way he tried to protect the family from the cruelty that had been heaped upon him?

Wangji's chest tightened as he thought of all the times he had driven Wei Wuxian away—how every gesture of kindness had been met with suspicion, how every attempt at communication had been shut down by his own pride, his own bitterness. He had seen Wei Wuxian only as a source of frustration, a reminder of a world that Lan Wangji could never fully understand, but he had failed to see the human being in front of him—the man who had cared for him when no one else had.

The silence in the study pressed in on him, and for the first time in his life, Lan Wangji allowed himself to feel the weight of regret. He had accused Wei Wuxian of being a manipulator, a liar. But in the end, it was his own pride that had blinded him, his own inability to look beyond the surface and see the truth.