Chapter Text
Wen RuoHan acknowledged the death of his youngest son with a simple "I see".
The atmosphere in the room tensed.
Meng Yao steadied himself and prepared for a blow, prepared to be on the receiving end of Wen RuoHan's temper.
For the longest time, nothing happened.
Perhaps the tyrant simply didn't care for his last son. Perhaps grief was too human of an emotion for him.
"Meng Yao," his tone was even when he spoke again.
"Yes."
"Tell me about your mother, the prostitute."
"She... Her name was Meng Shi. She made her name in Yun Ping for being an educated courtesan, talented in art and literature," Briefly caught off guard, Meng Yao quickly collected himself, "what would Sect Leader like to know about my mother?"
"How old were you when she died?"
"I was 15, Sect Leader."
"That was the year your father sent someone to kick you down."
"Yes, Sect Leader," Meng Two answered, lowering his eyes, showing no sign of anger. It wasn't unusual for Wen RuoHan to needle people, that was just the way the tyrant talked.
"Were you there when she died?"
"Yes, Sect Leader."
"What was it like? Did you get to hear her last words?"
"She died quietly. She was sick for a very long time, I think she knew. She called me over, told me to fetch the pearl button my father had given her, and asked me to find my father. She told me to make a name for myself, to make her proud."
Wen RuoHan smiled. He beckoned Meng Yao closer, expression almost kindly. "I wasn't there when my wife, A-Chao's mother, passed away."
Meng Yao blinked, no one had ever mentioned the Wen Clan's former Madame.
"How..."
"Suicide, her clan rose against me, so I killed them, And she killed herself."
"..."
"Wen Chao was around your age back then. I asked if he wanted to die with his mother. He cried at my feet and begged me not to kill him. It was a pathetic display."
"Meng Yao," the Tyrant stared at him, seeking, searching. "What did you want to hear from your father, when you went to find him at Koi Tower? What would you have said to A-Chao?"
Meng Yao almost wanted to laugh. Wen RuoHan, asking him about old regrets, of words unsaid. From Jin GuangShan, he had wanted some form of acknowledgement back then, for himself, for his mother—still wanted them—but in the end, none of it would have brought his mother back.
"The past is the past, Sect Leader," was all he could offer.
He doesn't move when Wen RuoHan stepped closer. Doesn't move when the man wrapped his arms around him in some semblance of an embrace. Doesn't move when Wen RuoHan pressed a kiss between his brows.
"I've never kissed A-Xu or A-Chao," Wen RuoHan confessed, in a murmur low enough that only Meng Yao could hear.
Carefully, Meng Yao returned the embrace, and wrapped his arms around the older man. In his arms, the leader of the Wen Sect, his teacher, felt like flesh and blood.
In that moment, he almost felt human.