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It was a bright sunny day when Wei Ying found himself once again in the familiar town of Caiyi. It had been...how long...a few days short of twelve months? Almost a year since he and Lan Zhan took a tour through this place, enjoying each other’s company for the last time before they went their separate ways.
Gosh, thought Wei Ying, it feels like forever.
He picked his way through the crowded marketplace, pulling a reluctant Li’l Apple behind him.
The place didn’t seem to have changed much. They still sold loquats in the same stall. He could see the little bridge over the busy canal, boatmen ferrying passengers and goods in their little boats and dinghy underneath. Only the shop selling Emperor’s Smile had a new shopkeeper now.
It all felt so familiar. Like only yesterday, he and his shidi and shijie were disembarking at the tiny quay, on their way to Cloud Recesses.
Wei Ying took in a lungful of the cool Spring breeze, shaking off the sudden sadness that threatened to drown him, and set off in the direction of Gusu.
He had no intention of going to Cloud Recesses. It held too many memories. And honestly, who would want him there? First of all, he was a certified rulebreaker, and with those three thousand Lan rules? He would much rather be dead. Also he knew for a fact that Lan Qiren would have a qi deviation if he ever set his eyes on Wei Ying again.
Secondly, he was a rumoured cutsleeve (pretty much everyone treated it as a fact) and was seen as a person to be avoided. He remembered how others looked down on Lan Zhan for his continued association with him (his ass of a brother included), and he did not want to smear Lan Zhan’s reputation any further, especially now that he had become the Chief Cultivator.
No, this time he just wanted to quietly visit the last place they had met before parting, and then again be on his way. The world was a big place. Who knows when he’d be back again?
For it was not in his nature to stay too long at one place anyways. He was always on the move, never settling. It was as if his soul was always searching for a warmth, a something that he hadn’t found yet.
He wound his way up the grassy slopes of the cliff on the outskirts of Cloud Recesses. Birds twittered overhead. Grasshoppers and cicadas made a racket, jumping across his path and sticking to his outer robe, as he picked his way through the clumps of tall grass and shrubs. He could hear the faint roar of the waterfall just over the edge.
Undulating slopes of green stretched as far as the eyes could see, shimmering in the fading rays of the setting sun. Wei Ying stood there, marvelling at the sight before him, wondering how much he had missed this.
This place. This memory.
It was always tiny scenes like these, etched into his mind. These precious little scenes that he hoarded like gems, stringing them together to form a patchwork of memories to keep him warm during dreary days.
Truth be told, he never had a recollection of any particular place at a stretch. His earliest memories were of being on the road, his father and mother walking alongside the donkey, talking and teasing him, as he sat and giggled. That was the only memory he had of them. The only home he knew.
As an orphaned child roaming the streets, he had searched for that feeling of warmth among the people in the marketplace, struggling to smile and appear cheerful even when he was absolutely terrified. Perhaps, perhaps if he showed them a happy face, they would not reject him? In the end, though they never really paid him any attention, at least they were there. He wasn’t alone.
Even at Lotus Pier, surrounded by people who loved him, who really saw him for who he was, he always felt a sense of alienation.
There was always something missing. A yearning for that something that he couldn’t quite grasp, that seemed to be just out of his reach, a hollow that he felt in his chest.
Well, did he not try to fill that hollow? Did he not struggle to make his own family by adopting the pariah of society, the helpless, displaced stragglers who had lost all to the war? And in that moment, had he not felt more understood than he had ever felt in his entire life, just as he understood their pain?
For once, home meant those tired faces smiling at him in relief, those knowing pats, the affectionate rebukes. Home meant a dreary land slowly turning habitable with the efforts of toiling hands and cheerful encouragements, home meant sharing a meagre meal of boiled radish and occasional potatoes with everyone, laughing and joking and sharing news over home brewed wine.
Home meant belonging to them just as much they belonged to him.
Until it all turned to ashes, disintegrating before his eyes.
Wei Ying came back with a jolt, taking in his surroundings. He was standing at the edge of the cliff, the wind buffeting against him forcefully. It reminded him of the last time he stood tittering at the edge of another cliff, even as the darkness swirled within him, watching the world burn with his wrath and agony. His family killed, his shijie gone...
His grip tightened on Chenqing, the reminder of darker yet happier times. It was all he had left of the days spent in the Burial Mounds. This and a sentient fierce corpse and a child he thought he had lost. Fragments of a broken home he craved.
Unbeknownst, his hands raised the dizi to his lips, coaxing from its depths an age old tune. It felt like a friend, a constant companion, comforting him whenever he felt overwhelmed or upset. Like a warm hand against his shoulders, telling him it was okay. It was okay to mourn. To hurt. To heal. And to let go.
And as the music swelled and rose, pervading the entire valley, it brought with it a different memory...a face...much beloved...slanted sharp eyes...a barely there smile...and a steadfast voice calling to him across the vast ocean of reminiscences...
...let me help you...
...then what am I to you...I once thought of you as my soulmate...I still am...
...Wei Ying, come back...
...be careful...
...the feeling of sticking to the single log bridge is indeed not bad...
...where will you go?...
‘Wei Ying...’
His breath faltered, Chenqing stuttering to a stop. The hollow throb inside him went still. In the silence, he could hear the birds twittering far away.
And then it was suddenly a tumultuous sea, raging and crashing against his ribcage relentlessly, urging him to turn. To turn and look. And see.
With hope and trepidation warring in his heart, he turned around slowly.
And oh.
There he stood. Clad in white, Bichen clutched in his hands, forehead ribbon fluttering in the wind. Time had not marred the beloved face, as if it had never passed since the day the two of them stood here silently setting each other free.
The raging, tumultuous sea in him brimmed and spilled over, wetting his cheeks, as his lips mirrored the smile that it saw on the other’s face. A smile of recognition. A smile of relief.
Because he was finally where he belonged.
He was finally home.