( It's easiest to watch the rabbits even as they're lifted, though he blinks and looks away for a moment, listening. Years and a lifetime ago, there was a very different conversation. Even now, he doesn't think he can have the conversation that would be easiest, the one that anyone could swallow, even if his stance in the world now has a flexibility of understanding, jaded purpose compared to the brilliant flames of personal justice that had burned him to bones.
On this, however, they may find easy accord. That it matters, that there's some sense of peace for the moment in hearing what none truly ventured to say, he is well cared for. Last who did is the woman who lies eighteen years dead, her son grown and growing and missing still the parents he never knew.
His gaze settles on Lan Xichen's face, lashes drooping as he blinks and inclines his head, lifts his hands to cup in a sort of freely given formality, albeit not one he pushes or presents as deep. Respectful, always. He's knowing when he 'forgets' his respect, different to his pushing the boundaries of what qualifies. )
Heard in gratitude, Zewu-jun.
( A chosen faith on both their parts, and oh, do they not both know the cost of faith ill placed. Yet still, they persist. )
Such as it is, you have my support in all but what runs counter to Jiang Cheng's interests. I fail to see a time where it would, but since you speak to my reliable honesty and follow-through, there you have it.
( He has no comment on his brother's apparent paragon nature in moments with Xichen; the only ones he's witnessed have begged indifference or the opposite, but he's as aware that Lan Xichen has years of sect meetings and his own concerns and Jiang Cheng's collected attempts at calm while holding a sect together on his own, young and then increasingly older. Obsessions and angry silences between Lan Zhan and Jiang Cheng are what he's lived with for years, and the liminal space that is his relationship with one he had shared so much of a life with, until he had not.
It's unimportant, in the scheme of things. Only the statement of his own loyalties, of what he cannot and has not given up, that Jiang Cheng has not demanded of him, means he makes such transparent. With it said, he simply smiles, then fills Lan Xichen's cup once more. )
Don't ask me what the rabbits are called. Their names have changed recently, Lan Zhan can tell you.
( He's not trying to forget, but in truth, he's had trouble with the recollection. Left to his own devices, it'd be Little Cabbage and Little Radish, or something of the kind. Why not call a creature after whatever foods they seem to favour? Seems logical, for an animal. Not at all how he'd name a child. )
[ Talking with Wei Wuxian is like walking through a maze. When Xichen thinks he is responding to something of significance, he is politely shunted in a new direction and it doesn't escape his notice; no talk of Jiang Wanyin, then. Noted. It is none of his business, in any case, what goes on between the Jiang family members.
He sips his drink with a placid smile similarly in place like the surface of a lake, mirroring the nature of their conversation. ]
Mm? Our first two? No, those were fat white hares, very well fed, Lan Zhan found them homes with a family before we left the country of snow. There were chickens at some point — I have no idea why he's been so fond of chickens, but he's tried collecting them at least twice, and we've rehomed them twice after, too. You don't collect chickens when you've been drunk, do you?
( There's a very specific pattern, and it hasn't happened since he's knowingly married Lan Zhan, so this is a genuine question about his husband having a fat chicken gathering Concern that comes out when he's drunk. But only when he's drunk. )
Jiang Cheng kept... stewardship of a dog for a period of time, I'm not sure which creatures travel with us at present beyond the rabbits. These two came with us from a haunted inn with its own hot spring, Lan Zhan felt renewed upon their acquaintance. Which means they've now been through a desert caravan, a falling keep, a train adventure, has he told you about the train through the land of dreams and nightmares? Fascinating how that all went, and now they're here, traveling time with us in bloodied waters under equally bloodied moons. Which I'll note isn't usual, there's what, one moon most the time, I think. More like home.
I do not get drunk often enough to make a habit of collecting chickens, no.
[ Although he is impressed by how weird that habit of his brother's is. Less so that Wangji might have been drinking here, he did not enjoy the stint Wangji spent years ago drinking miserably in the jingshi with a hot branding iron.
He shakes his head a little, curious. ]
I've heard nothing of a land of dreams and nightmares, though this realm would seem to qualify too.
( He's sitting here, wondering where that tendency came from... Lan Zhan's unique desire to collect chunky chickens? Strange.
Strange in entirely different ways are the dreams and nightmares. Wei Wuxian chuckles, shaking his head. )
Every realm has its nightmares, some are more obvious than others. Traveling through where storms created nightmares and dreams could be brought to a life of their own, that was a fascinating and frustrating experience. We attended the same wedding three times before reality grew less malleable and the brides could eventually be worked out. They had this terrible, frothy wine soup, I can't tell you how bad that was... why would you do that to wine, I wondered! No one had an answer.
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On this, however, they may find easy accord. That it matters, that there's some sense of peace for the moment in hearing what none truly ventured to say, he is well cared for. Last who did is the woman who lies eighteen years dead, her son grown and growing and missing still the parents he never knew.
His gaze settles on Lan Xichen's face, lashes drooping as he blinks and inclines his head, lifts his hands to cup in a sort of freely given formality, albeit not one he pushes or presents as deep. Respectful, always. He's knowing when he 'forgets' his respect, different to his pushing the boundaries of what qualifies. )
Heard in gratitude, Zewu-jun.
( A chosen faith on both their parts, and oh, do they not both know the cost of faith ill placed. Yet still, they persist. )
Such as it is, you have my support in all but what runs counter to Jiang Cheng's interests. I fail to see a time where it would, but since you speak to my reliable honesty and follow-through, there you have it.
no subject
Raising his brows in mild surprise, Xichen moves them on too. ]
I have not known a time since I arrived here that the interests of Wanyin and myself were not of a similar vein. We rarely disagree.
no subject
It's unimportant, in the scheme of things. Only the statement of his own loyalties, of what he cannot and has not given up, that Jiang Cheng has not demanded of him, means he makes such transparent. With it said, he simply smiles, then fills Lan Xichen's cup once more. )
Don't ask me what the rabbits are called. Their names have changed recently, Lan Zhan can tell you.
( He's not trying to forget, but in truth, he's had trouble with the recollection. Left to his own devices, it'd be Little Cabbage and Little Radish, or something of the kind. Why not call a creature after whatever foods they seem to favour? Seems logical, for an animal. Not at all how he'd name a child. )
no subject
He sips his drink with a placid smile similarly in place like the surface of a lake, mirroring the nature of their conversation. ]
Are they the same rabbits from two years ago?
no subject
( There's a very specific pattern, and it hasn't happened since he's knowingly married Lan Zhan, so this is a genuine question about his husband having a fat chicken gathering Concern that comes out when he's drunk. But only when he's drunk. )
Jiang Cheng kept... stewardship of a dog for a period of time, I'm not sure which creatures travel with us at present beyond the rabbits. These two came with us from a haunted inn with its own hot spring, Lan Zhan felt renewed upon their acquaintance. Which means they've now been through a desert caravan, a falling keep, a train adventure, has he told you about the train through the land of dreams and nightmares? Fascinating how that all went, and now they're here, traveling time with us in bloodied waters under equally bloodied moons. Which I'll note isn't usual, there's what, one moon most the time, I think. More like home.
no subject
[ Although he is impressed by how weird that habit of his brother's is. Less so that Wangji might have been drinking here, he did not enjoy the stint Wangji spent years ago drinking miserably in the jingshi
with a hot branding iron.He shakes his head a little, curious. ]
I've heard nothing of a land of dreams and nightmares, though this realm would seem to qualify too.
no subject
( He's sitting here, wondering where that tendency came from... Lan Zhan's unique desire to collect chunky chickens? Strange.
Strange in entirely different ways are the dreams and nightmares. Wei Wuxian chuckles, shaking his head. )
Every realm has its nightmares, some are more obvious than others. Traveling through where storms created nightmares and dreams could be brought to a life of their own, that was a fascinating and frustrating experience. We attended the same wedding three times before reality grew less malleable and the brides could eventually be worked out. They had this terrible, frothy wine soup, I can't tell you how bad that was... why would you do that to wine, I wondered! No one had an answer.