Chapter Text
Wen Ruohan stared over the remnants of the small village, watching as his fellow cultivators helped the wounded and injured. He had received the call for help too late, and by the time he arrived, the entire area had been ravaged.
The sect leader had made quick work of the rampaging monsters and saved the surviving villagers, but he still cursed his tardiness. He could’ve saved everyone if his councilors had delivered the message earlier. Though his expression remained aloof, he boiled with anger within.
Curse those foolish old men , his brow furrowed slightly, his fist tightening.
He was about to make his way back to his men to check on the damages and the people who he would have to relocate to a safer location, when Wen Ruohan heard a faint shuffling. He glanced around the smoking debris, then saw a dirtied cloth beneath a toppled roof. He approached cautiously, his hand on his sword, and lifted the singed wood.
A small boy stared up at him, shivering, hugging his knees, looking shaken but otherwise uninjured. The child, perhaps barely a teenager, didn’t blink, looking wary, his large eyes unreadable, his dark brows arched down, his mouth drawn in a frown.
“Are you all right, child?” Wen Ruohan knelt down, holding his hand out.
The boy continued to stare, his gaze flickering from Wen Ruohan’s hand to his face then back.
“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise,” Wen Ruohan said as warmly as he could, which wasn’t all that warm, but the boy seemed to sense his sincerity.
“Who are you?” the boy asked, his voice sounding more mature than his small frame would suggest.
“My name is Wen Ruohan, what’s yours?” he asked, slowly brushing the boy’s bangs away from his face, noticing a small cut on his forehead.
The sect leader slid his finger across the cut, a small amount of qi emanating from him and sealing the wound immediately. The boy blinked in surprise, reaching up to feel the smooth skin, as if nothing had ever cut him in the first place.
“Zhao Zhuliu,” the boy answered, looking up at Wen Ruohan, his narrow shoulders finally relaxing. “What will I do now?” he asked as Wen Ruohan helped him stand up, the sect leader wincing at how bony the boy’s wrist was. “My family’s gone,” he said, glancing over at a house that had collapsed, and Wen Ruohan followed his gaze, seeing a pale arm sticking out of the wreckage, unmoving.
Wen Ruohan knelt down in front of him, staring at him.
“Would you like to be my family, Zhuliu?” the sect leader asked, tilting his head, and the boy looked at him.
“How do I know I can trust you?” Zhuliu frowned, and Wen Ruohan laughed softly, surprising both the boy and himself. When was the last time he actually laughed?
“I suppose you don’t,” he said quietly. “But if I had come earlier, perhaps your family would have been spared. It is my fault you are alone, Zhuliu,” Wen Ruohan said earnestly, admitting to the guilt eating away at him, wondering if he had ever been so straightforward with anyone before. “Let me make it up to you.”
The boy continued to look at him, those eyes so difficult to read Wen Ruohan found himself impressed, then Zhuliu smiled at him.
“You’ve done me a favor then,” he said softly, and -at Wen Ruohan’s arched brow- Zhuliu rose his shirt up where his torso was littered in old and new scars.
A vicious and unfamiliar rage flared up in the sect leader’s chest that he stamped down before it could reach his face. Wen Ruohan swept the boy up in his arms, Zhuliu flailing about in surprise but then relaxing at the man’s expression.
“As long as I’m alive, Zhuliu, you are never to be harmed again. Do you understand?” he asked, his eyes stern and alight.
“Mn,” the boy nodded, his entire body slumping as exhaustion finally hit the child, and Zhuliu fell asleep.
Wen Ruohan returned to his men who looked at the sleeping boy expectantly, and the sect leader gave them a single withering look, challenging them to say anything. They remained silent, scurrying back to work. The sect leader’s sword unsheathed and he stepped upon it, flying back to the Nightless City, wondering just how angry his wife would be at him adopting a son. He smiled at the thought.
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“ What will people say if they find out you adopted some pathetic child of no social standing, Wen Ruohan?! ”
Wen Ruohan rolled his eyes as he tucked a still-sleeping Zhuliu into a bed in the room near his own, smoothing the blankets over the boy. He stood, taking a slow silent breath as his wife continued to rant and yell at him about propriety and appearances.
When she showed no signs of stopping, he turned, his qi whipping a gust of wind at her, her robes blustering around her and she finally stopped speaking.
“You’ll wake him,” Wen Ruohan said curtly, walking out of the room and she stomped after him.
The sect leader closed the door behind her, noticing his other two sons peeking from around the corner. He took another deep breath, hoping that they wouldn’t enter the conversation and whine like their mother about things they didn’t understand. He only had so much patience he was willing to use on a daily basis.
“Answer me, Wen Ruohan!” she demanded, hands on her hips, glaring up at him.
“Your question doesn’t warrant an answer,” he said, smiling a cold smile, his hands twitching as he crossed his arms. “ ‘What will people say?’ When have I cared about what people say? I don’t expect you to care for the boy, nor do I expect you to help in any way,” he said, looming over her, his fury touching the air and painting it in winter and ice. “So, why does your opinion matter on the subject?”
“But I-” she tried to argue, and he marveled at how willing she was to anger him.
“ Enough .”
The single word brought a deathly silence to the massive stone room, his qi oppressive and heavy in the air. Wen Ruohan let a touch of his irritation touch his face, and it was enough to silence her on the subject entirely.
“A-Xu, A-Chao,” he spoke up and looked over as his sons sheepishly emerged from the hallway. “You have a new brother. His name is Zhuliu. You will be kind to him. Am I understood?” he stared at them, and they nodded vigorously, not breathing a word.
Without a glance back, Wen Ruohan returned to Zhuliu’s side to wait for the boy to awaken and introduce him to the Wen sect.