acrookedpath | [pfsb]

[pfsb]

The latest idea that struck Wei Wuxian mid-lunch: if he combined one of the theoretical energy talismans with a paper doll, would that allow him to search the grounds for resentful energy without having to blanket the whole inn with talismans?

It seems like a sound idea! It won't replace the planned night hunt with Lan Zhan -- nor would he want it to -- but if he succeeds, it will be a fun experiment.

First, though: combining a paper doll with a simpler talisman. Which brings us to Wei Wuxian at a table underneath the Observation Window, not an inch left uncovered by his notes, scribbling onto a tiny cutout with a ballpoint pen Bar gave him. (What an invention!) He completes the last character with a flourish and waves his hand over the doll; it springs to its "feet," and, grinning, he directs it toward the empty cup perched precariously on a corner of the table.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

In his mind's eye, he sees again the unnatural silence of the Yiling Supervisory Office, strewn with corpses, and imagines the same scene at the inn.

"Mn. Perhaps not that."

Lan Wangji looks away, out into the forest around them.

"A lure, though--"

He's nodding. "Yes. An array of them, most likely, to counteract the suppression."

Easy enough to prepare a cluster of talismans for such a task. All it would take is a flick of his wrist to distribute them, and he could call for the resentful energy at a moment's notice.

"Another project! I am gathering them like stray cats. You may come back in a week's time and have nowhere to sit, for all my notes and talismans."

The faintest hint of a smile touches the corners of his mouth.

"I will not mind."

In fact, he very much likes the idea of Wei Ying busy and thriving.

"You say that now," he says, shaking a finger at Lan Zhan. "Then you will trip over a pile of paper as tall as your knees and fall into my table! Ink all over your nice robes. It won't do."

He starts to retrace their steps up the trail.

"I will not trip."

He paces along beside the other man.

"But if I do, robes wash."

"I suppose there is a lake nearby to wash in..."

Energized by the hunt, the same as one who breathes fresh air after weeks indoors, he keeps up his chatter all the way back to the inn. It was only two ghosts -- not nearly enough for his good cheer to be tinged with exhaustion as it is -- but, he tells himself, it was the first proper night hunt he's done in some time.

(He had almost forgotten how good it feels to hunt alongside Lan Zhan, as they did before --

Before.)

Wei Ying's cheerful conversation washes over him as they walk, he himself content to listen and make the occasional sound of encouragement.

Three years since the clifftop at Nightless City. Longer still, since that night in the rain at Qiongqi Way.

He'd thought this lost forever.

Lantern light shines through the window of the inn, guiding them in. When they reach it, he opens the door and holds it for the other man to pass through first.

He nods his thanks, with barely a pause in the (admittedly rather one-sided) conversation, and leads the way up the stairs.

It cannot be long until hài hour, can it? He will make sure Lan Zhan is settled comfortably and asleep before he goes back to his notes. Hopefully. Maybe.

He fully expects Lan Zhan to insist he stay in bed, though, and that might account for the slight dimming to his good cheer as he opens the door to his room.

Wei Ying's mood seems to shift, and Lan Wangji glances at him in concern.

Has he changed his mind? Does he not want --

"Wei Ying. What is wrong?"

He shoots Lan Zhan a quizzical look. "Nothing," he says. "I am not sure how long it is until hài hour, that's all."

It's...sort of the truth. Then again, Wei Wuxian isn't the one bound by the rules of Gusu Lan.

"About half a shichen," he says.

Living by a strictly regimented schedule gives one an innate sense of time.

He follows the other man into the room and moves to stand to one side, a little awkwardly.

"Good! Good. You have time to prepare properly for sleep then. Do you need anything?"

He sets his flute on the bookshelf that is practically buckling under the weight of all his notes.

He glances around the room, noting the privacy screen and the door to a separate bathing chamber.

The second bed that Wei Ying had somehow obtained has been placed beside the first, with just enough space for someone to walk between them. Small hooks are worked into the low headboard and footboard, giving him a place to hang personal items.

"No."

He looks back at Wei Ying.

"Thank you."

"All right."

In that case: dibs on the bathroom! Wei Wuxian heads that way to start his own evening routine.

Maybe if he goes through the motions, Lan Zhan will believe he's going to bed at hài hour as well? Or, if nothing else, it will give Lan Zhan a moment's privacy to settle in, should he need it.

He breathes a little easier as the door closes behind Wei Ying, and crosses the room to the privacy screen.

He takes a fresh set of clothing from his qiankun bag and quickly changes into clean trousers and a clean set of inner robes. After a moment's consideration, he adds the second layer of robes as well, just to be certain that none of the scars will show.

He stows the worn clothing and moves back to the bed, where he neatly lays the rest of his robes over the footboard in preparation for the morning. He hangs the qiankun from one of the little hooks, and carefully removes his hairpiece and hangs it from another.

His fingers hesitate on his forehead ribbon before he removes it as well, hanging it with his hairpiece.

After that, he sits on the edge of the bed and begins to comb out his hair.

Twenty minutes later, Wei Wuxian bursts out of the bathroom, clad in his inner robes and wringing out his hair with one of the disarmingly soft towels Madam Bar saw fit to place in his room. Bathing in the lake may feel like home, but sometimes -- a lot of the time, if he's honest -- it's easier to use the shower that is apparently a common thing in many of the worlds that touch Milliways.

He pauses mid-wring at the sight of Lan Zhan sitting on the bed. Unconsciously, a tiny, warm smile touches his lips.

"Comfortable?" he asks, flopping onto the other bed.

He offers a split-second prayer to the ancestors and any friendly deity that might be listening that his ears might not flush, and nods.

"Yes."

He keeps combing as he talks, frowning slightly as he works through a particularly stubborn tangle.

"If you are sure I am not intruding."

"Of course you're not," he says cheerily. Shaking out his damp hair, he drags his fingers through it in lieu of a proper comb -- he worked out most of the tangles in the shower already -- and chucks the towel at the privacy screen. It catches on one corner, hangs there a moment...

...and then slides off to the floor.

Groaning, he gets back up to hang the towel properly.

As he does: "If you were, Lan Zhan, I would not have added you to the warding talisman on the door."

"I know, but--"

The words stick in his throat as he thinks of kneeling outside a closed door in winter, with snowflakes falling; in spring, when the gentians began to bloom.

He abandons the effort at an explanation. He will just have to believe Wei Ying, and be alert to any signs of him changing his mind.

Besides, something else has caught his attention.

"... do you not have a comb?"

"I do, I just, ah..."

Sheepishly, he returns to his bed.

"This is easier, for now?"

"Mn."

Somehow, the simple sound is unthinkingly fond.

He finishes with his own hair and shakes it back over his shoulders.

"You can use this one. If you want. I will be a moment."

Lan Wangji lays the comb down on his bed and quickly retreats to the bathroom to wash up.

Laughing a little, he calls after him, "Thank you, Lan Zhan!"

He probably should look after his hair properly, considering how much else he neglected today in favor of his studies. Wei Wuxian grabs the comb and gets to work.

He figures out the controls for everything with the aid of the small pictures that have been discreetly placed in the room. Lan Wangji thinks it is just another sign of how thoughtful Bar-gūniang is, and he appreciates her kindness.

There is also just enough space for him to perform a careful series of small stretches to loosen the muscles in his back. He is determined to avoid a repeat of what happened the other morning, to avoid alarming Wei Ying further.

Several minutes later, ablutions completed, he steps back into the room, and sees Wei Ying using his comb. A rush of warmth passes through him at the sight, and, quietly pleased, he walks over to resume his seat on the bed.

Wei Wuxian smiles at him, then winces a bit as the comb hits a tangle near the nape of his neck. Carefully, he wrangles the teeth through the knotted hair, smoothing it into place as the tangles give way.

(Yes. He definitely needs to remember to eat, and to take care of himself a little better, if only so Lan Zhan will not have to fuss so much.)

Once he's done, he holds the comb out to Lan Zhan.

He smiles back -- faint and hard to see unless you know him well, but there -- and accepts it, then tucks it away neatly in his qiankun bag.

Hài hour is drawing near, he knows, even though he might wish it otherwise.

"Are you tired?"

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject