Wei Wuxian's eyes widened to the size of saucers. Careless- how the hell could he have been so careless? His heart clenched looking at his nephew under the equivalent of medieval gunpoint. Jin Ling had turned deathly pale, his face painted in shock.
As he stayed trapped in his villainous uncle's knife-point stronghold, all he could think of was how utterly foolish he was. How many times did he wish to be fooled? The rational part of his brain told him to think, to plot and get his way out of this sticky situation, but the other half screamed in defeat. Waiting for and wanting help. What more can I do anyway? His parents were dead, and he had next to no friends- no one to live for in retrospect. But- Unbidden, an image of a smiling Sizhui, a grinning Jingyi and a blushing Ouyang Zizhen flashed before him. Them. His first friends, even if he'd never admit it. But his life had been hell, anyway. Now the scene of Uncle Wei defending him, of Uncle Jiang handing him fairy and playing with him, teaching him materialised before him. Never mind...
"Let. Him. Go." Wei Wuxian gritted out every word. Fury emanated off him in waves. His dove-gray eyes darkened to the point they were black, and then they morphed. His eyes burned crimson red, and his expression hardened. Eerily, Mo Xuanyu's body resembled Wei Wuxian's original body, and Jin Guangyao could have sworn he saw him morphing. But if there was one thing that stayed the same, it was his unmistakable power. Involuntarily, he took a step forward, and the ground trembled in response.
The grip on Rulan tightened, and to all of their surprises, Jin Guangyao didn't cower this time. Too late, Lan Xichen thought, even if you manage to stand your ground now, you'll face young Master Wei's wrath later.
"No. Another step closer, Wei Wuxian, and your beloved disciple's head might go rolling to the ground." Meng Yao grinned, perfectly embodying the essence of "I became insane, with long periods of horrible sanity," blood half-crusted on his face, streaked with dirt and grime, robes disheveled and loose. Mania glinted in his eyes, but an air of chaste composure overtook him, and even if he wasn't sane, his eyes dimmed with severity. Knowing Meng Yao he wouldn't do anything hastily. His grip on the knife steadied, and he barely inched it away. Never before in his life had Wei Wuxian ever wanted to punch someone in the face so badly. Meng Yao's knuckles turned white.
"I won't do anything," his voice reminded Lan Xichen of hot and drying coals, "if you don't move." Lan Xichen wanted to laugh and cry simultaneously. Really? That was the best he could come up with? How in the name of Hell, had he come to trust this man? Unbidden, something whispered, love. But the truth was far simpler than that. He'd imagined in this man something he could protect, unlike his little brother, who'd always been self-sufficient. Who had never allowed him to take care of him, not after that fateful day. He still remembered a little boy kneeling before a garden of dead gentians, a house of overgrown thorns, eyes brimming with so much ferocity it scared the hell out of him. His brother took after their father. Their love could span centuries, and endure infinity in a blink of an eye. But while his father's love had been obsessive, Lan Zhan waited. Lan Xichen had yearned for family for so long he threw caution to the wind, giving his trust to this- he didn't know what to say, but to him easily, hoping that somehow, he'd be able to protect him. The way he couldn't with Wangji.
In reality, though, all he'd ever done was cover up this vile man's tracks. He'd stood up for him, trusted him, believed in him, affirmed him. Just for the semblance of what he'd wished he and his brother would have had. Stupid. Utterly stupid, and foolish. But at least...He thought back to another, far more muscular, far taller man who'd loathed the filthy, short cockroach in front of him now, at least he'd been real. Even if he'd the oddest ways of showing it. But Wangji...he'd let Wangji down, in too many ways to count. He'd failed to believe him, to help him those days back in Nightless City. If he'd just done something...maybe they wouldn't have got to where they were today. Maybe didi and Wei Wuxian would have been happily married by now, maybe Nie Mingjue would still have been alive. But...If only...
活。 别怪自己。 The words played through Lan Huan's head, like a mantra. Somehow, it kept him calm, it kept him grounded. Knowing that at least one person he'd loved, other than Wangji, had truly cared. Even if the person was long dead and gone. 'I wish I was the one dead. ' "Jin Guangyao, " he gritted out, stepping before the man he'd once trusted and loved. I'm sorry, Wangji. I've wronged you so much.. "Let young master Jin go. Take me instead , if you will."
Wangji's eyes widened, and he mouthed one thing. "No."
Sneering, something like hurt flashed in Meng Yao's eyes. "I'd never hurt Ge." As if to further prove his point, he loosened his grip on Jin Ling, carefully inching his knife away from his nephew's throat. But why? Why in the world did he always spare him? Questions resounded in Lan Huan's head endlessly, questions he knew he'd never get the answers. His heart softened at his brother's voice, but his head plagued him with questions, trailing off into nothingness.
"He's. Not. Your. Ge." Lan Wangji's voice enunciated each word perfectly and fiercely, eyes flashing in anger. Staring at his brother, Lan Huan couldn't help swelling with pride, but somehow, dispirited. No, he was wistful, of how things could have been. But the things that could happen, the if onlys, were just that. If only. They'd never happen.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Footsteps reverberated across the temple. Muffled voices could be heard, signifying a large bunch. Meng Yao's heartbeat quickened, and his hands started trembling. Shit. Shit. No one was meant to be here! I'm certain I put up the darn wards. He turned to a grinning Wei Wuxian accusingly. Finally. Eyes sparkling with dark mischief, the innovative Yiling Laozu grinned, replying with an infuriating, "Wards were meant to be broken."
Just as Meng Yao thought he had them under his fingers, Wei Wuxian was busy inconspicuously taking down the wards, and Lan Wangji had managed to send for reinforcements . If only Sect Leader Jin weren't so impatient , so caught up in overpowering them, he'd have seen the blue and white flash of clouds earlier, and the miniscule hand movements Wei Wuxian had sent to Lan Wangji. After all, he'd played minimal role in calming thir dear friend down. If he'd listened any harder, he'd have realized the tunes Wei Wuxian played were not of binding, but of release. So much for being an evil genius.... Smirking, the infamous Yiling Laozu lit up a shimmering black talisman, and flicked it towards Jin Guangyao.
Dozens of ants crept up the older Jin, and he could feel himself slowly losing control of his body. Fear swarmed him, but he found that the only part of him he could move was his mouth. "Yi...Ling....Laozu...What the....hell....have you....done to....me?"
Again, Wei Ying's crimson eyes darkened and glowed. This time, it was simmering with resentment, and he was livid. After all, he found no reason to be kind to him. He pulled a grotesque smile. "Wouldn't you like to know?" His voice dripped in derisive honey, and he shot daggers at the short toad before him, leaning forward to free his own nephew from the disgraced 'master'. Jin Guangyao became nothing more than a marionette, watching in numb horror as his limbs were moved away. The door swung open almost dramatically, and a giant sea of blue and white swishes entered the room, guided by...
"Just what in the world happened?" Lan Qiren's droning, wheezing shout echoed across the room, and the face of a bewildered and angry Lan Qiren met with the sight of a disheveled Chief Cultivator Jin, who was holding the air at knife point, partially frozen, with an unreadable expression, as well as his beloved eldest nephew he hadn't seen for days, with him being kidnapped and all. Great. Ah yes, and lest I forget, his most precious treasure, grasping Wei Wuxian, the tragic Yiling Laozu's hand, as if there was no tomorrow, Young mistress-no, Young Master Jin, half out of his endearing uncle's arms, presumably the one held at knifepoint. His eyes almost popped out of their sockets.
Blankly, he snapped his head back and forth, before managing, "What in the name of Hell just happened?" Normally, he hated swearing, but even the stoically rigid Lan Qiren had limits. Suppressing his nerves from twitching, preparing for what was likely either a colossal headache or emotional meltdown later.
Wei Ying's eyes gleamed mysteriously. Grinning, he freed his hand from his lover's grasp, flexed his slender fingers, and slivers of charcoal-grey shadows swarmed through his palms, gathering. Seeking his soulmate, his eyes softened before shutting. Bringing his palms to his chest, he summoned, and waves of resentful energy, unclean and impure drifted to him, like moths drawn to a flame. The Juniors watched on, transfixed, while Meng Yao looked on in disbelief. For once, even the rigid Old Master Lan was rendered speechless.
Furrowing his brow, he concentrated, and the misty, charcoal grey swathes folded into themselves, before blinding the temple with light
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A/N: 1620 words! Sorry for the long wait, I've an exam coming up soon! How are you guys? I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Oh, and Happy Friendship Day!