Lan Wangji had been in the library when Wei Ying's message reached him. Blurry and half obscured by what appeared to be leaves and insects, the picture was still recognizably Sizhui. He'd already tried to accept that he would not see his disciple again until whatever task he has in this world is concluded, had kept him in mind as one of the people he was here to save from some calamity, but who would not have to suffer concern for him in return. To find out he was here after all... He'd vacated the library so hurriedly, even his furry study companion could do nothing but scatter.
But even as he instructs Wei Ying not to leave his side, the weight of their meeting overshadows his relief. This isn't something he could have ever anticipated. The joy of being able to introduce Wei Ying and Sizhui after all this time wars with the anxiety of how either of them would react-- Sizhui hasn't asked after his family in a long time now, he is sure of his place in the Lan clan and as sure of who he is as a teenage boy can possibly be. Would this stir up a conflict or memories that are better left in the past? Is it Lan Wangji's responsibility to reveal to him the truth of the cruelty and injustices done to his first family, to put the burden of being the last surviving member of an extinguished sect on his shoulders, and his personal connection to the Yiling Laozu-- or to shelter him from it? And... would he resent him, for whichever choice he makes?
As for Wei Ying, the choice isn't any easier. He's shown little interest in news from home, seemingly content to live his second life far away from his first. Would it even be a comfort to find out the child he cared for had survived, sixteen years too late? Would he be able to look at Sizhui with the same hope and pride that he does, or would he only see a reminder of the tragedy that befell them? The idea that Wei Ying and Sizhui might reject one another twists in him far worse than all uncertainty, and it's only reinforced by Wei Ying's emphatic refusal to share his name with the boy.
By the time he's flagged down someone with a portal talisman to the orchard and is briskly walking through the rows of trees, he hasn't gotten any closer to an answer to any of these questions. But when he spots the two of them picking cookies out of the grass like mushrooms, collecting them together in their basket, he has to stop in his tracks for all the affection and gratefulness in his heart. Whatever he decides to do, he cannot endanger this.
no subject
But even as he instructs Wei Ying not to leave his side, the weight of their meeting overshadows his relief. This isn't something he could have ever anticipated. The joy of being able to introduce Wei Ying and Sizhui after all this time wars with the anxiety of how either of them would react-- Sizhui hasn't asked after his family in a long time now, he is sure of his place in the Lan clan and as sure of who he is as a teenage boy can possibly be. Would this stir up a conflict or memories that are better left in the past? Is it Lan Wangji's responsibility to reveal to him the truth of the cruelty and injustices done to his first family, to put the burden of being the last surviving member of an extinguished sect on his shoulders, and his personal connection to the Yiling Laozu-- or to shelter him from it? And... would he resent him, for whichever choice he makes?
As for Wei Ying, the choice isn't any easier. He's shown little interest in news from home, seemingly content to live his second life far away from his first. Would it even be a comfort to find out the child he cared for had survived, sixteen years too late? Would he be able to look at Sizhui with the same hope and pride that he does, or would he only see a reminder of the tragedy that befell them? The idea that Wei Ying and Sizhui might reject one another twists in him far worse than all uncertainty, and it's only reinforced by Wei Ying's emphatic refusal to share his name with the boy.
By the time he's flagged down someone with a portal talisman to the orchard and is briskly walking through the rows of trees, he hasn't gotten any closer to an answer to any of these questions. But when he spots the two of them picking cookies out of the grass like mushrooms, collecting them together in their basket, he has to stop in his tracks for all the affection and gratefulness in his heart. Whatever he decides to do, he cannot endanger this.