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THIRTY-THREE LASHES, THIRTY-THREE MEMORIES, THIRTY-THREE REGRETS

Lan WangJi had often wondered where the point of no return had been. What had been the mistakes, on everyone's part? What could they have done to prevent the worse from happening? Most importantly, what could he had done to avoid losing one of the most important people in his life?

There were perhaps hundreds of answers, hundreds of different ways in which he could have changed the course of history. But it was easy, in hindsight, to think about which words could have managed to avoid tragedy to evolve in front of his powerless eyes.

It was less easy to live with his own sense of guilt, knowing that he never did enough, that he never was enough. Knowing that he had been an accomplice to those crimes even without intending to.

“Uncle, please, think about it. You can't...”.

The crocked voice of his brother stirred him from his thoughts. He was kneeling in the main courtyard of Cloud Recesses, his naked back straight and rigid and his hands on his knees. He wasn't sure of how long had passed since he had been dragged away from the Burial Mounds, leaving behind a wounded Wei Wuxian. He remembered fighting with all his strength, but apparently, it hadn't been enough.

He also wasn't sure of how long he had been kneeling on the ground in front of his uncle and the Lan Elders. They were busy arguing about how he had been a disappointment to the clan, how he had let the enemy ruin him, and how he had violated an unimaginable number of rules. He didn't care. He didn't care about their opinions nor about those rules which were supposed to be good, but that in the end only prevented him -and the whole sect, to be honest- from actually doing something good. He had learned from his own experience, after all, that reality is far from being just black and white and that those rigid precepts weren't enough to really live without regrets.

He did care about his brother's opinion. He had never seen him with such a sad and scared expression. Another part of his heart broke when he realized that his Xiongzhang, his only anchor, his only confessor and friend, was actually crying for him.

Lan Qiren ignored his nephew's plea. He was looking down at the younger one with such a rage that Lan WangJi couldn't help lowering his head and shuddering. He was really a disappointment.

“Do you regret your actions, WangJi?”.

WangJi didn't answer. He didn't need to, for once his expression could tell exactly what he was thinking. No, he didn't regret it. He didn't regret the only right thing he had done in the past months, maybe in years. He didn't regret his own feelings.

“Thirty-three lashes, one for each Lan disciple you've injured today”.

“Uncle, please!”.

“Do you regret your actions, WangJi?”.

Silence. WangJi closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He was ready for any punishment, he wouldn't back down from his own responsibilities. At the same time, he didn't want to lie. No, he didn't regret anything.

“Very well. Start”.

WangJi took another breath, starting to meditate on his spiritual energy. He knew he couldn't last long, but he didn't want to surrender anytime soon.

Thirty-three lashes. For his sect, they were the price to pay for the men he had injured. For Lan WangJi, they represented the memories of a whole lifetime and the regrets he still stored in his heart. A lash for each happy memory, a lash for each moment in which he could have done something to change the future. A lash for each time he had hesitated, a lash for every time he had listened to his own pride, a lash for all those moments in which he had been restrained from his own limited views of reality, from his own beliefs. A lash for each and every time he had let the chance to save him slip away from his fingers.

“One”.

Their first meeting. How could he forget that moment, how could he forget the strange butterflies in his stomach? He could remember those emotions as it was still happening in front of his eyes. Irritation, a bit of rage for such disdain of rules, but also a little hint of curiosity. How could such a carefree person -someone who went against every single rule he had learned- be such a good cultivator? Somehow, that loud and happy laughter had opened the door to an entirely different world and WangJi hadn't really tried to avoid being overwhelmed by it.

Despite the harsh pain that was spreading through all his back, WangJi lips folded upwards.

“Two”.

If he had to be completely honest with himself -and he was a Lan, so he couldn't lie, could he?- those first months he had spent between trying to ignore that loud boy and his actual curiosity about him had been easily the best times of his life. Not that he hadn't been happy before. He did love his brother and he respected his uncle, but for the first time he had discovered something new and strangely addictive.

If he did find addictive and interesting the ways of Wei Wuxian, or Wei Wuxian himself, well that wasn't something really important, was it?

“Three”.

“Uncle!”.

He opened his eyes at his brother's voice and another memory overlapped with the pain of the third lash. Lan Xichen had always been the only person really capable of reading each of his expressions, even when he couldn't find the words to express his thoughts. And he had also been the first one -maybe the only one- to realize that the frequently hidden gazes that his little brother had been throwing to Wei Wuxian were far away from being full of hate or rage.

WangJi had somehow convinced himself that he couldn't stand Wei Wuxian and his friend's antics, but a sentence from Lan Xichen was enough to make him question himself. “You can join them, WangJi. I'm sure Young Lord Wei would be delighted”.

And maybe he should have listened to that advice, maybe he should have put aside all his pride. What would have changed if he had tried to become his friend?

“Four”.

The first time WangJi had the chance to see Wei Wuxian as a cultivator was during the mission in Caiyi City. He hadn't been happy when his brother had decided to let the Yunmeng Jiang disciples participate, but then he had been grateful for their experience. Wei Wuxian was truly amazing. He was so different from anything WangJi ad always learned, but his thoughts and his actions were fast and accurate. For the first time in his life, WangJi had started to wonder whether there was something else outside Gusu. Not just something better, but maybe something different. Something interesting.

That was also the first time he had the chance to see what Jiang Wanyin used to define as “a stupid tendency to play the hero”. Wei Wuxian didn't hesitate, didn't stop to think about the smartest thing to do. He had just jumped and saved another disciple's life. There were no rules, just the need to save a life.

Back then he had refused to acknowledge his own reckless actions, but if he could go back, he would accept that hand without any hesitation.

“Five”.

In hindsight, WangJi had wondered when his opinion of Wei Wuxian had changed. After endless nights and thoughts, he had just accepted the fact that there had been nothing to change from the beginning. What had started with irritation for an often debatable behavior, had fast become an undeniable curiosity for that different and catchy disciple.

Actually starting to act following those new feelings had been easier than he had predicted. He still was amazed how he had put aside all the rules and had decided to drink with Wei Ying. He still couldn't understand why, and he still could remember that he had the same thoughts the morning after. Had he gone crazy?

It had been easy to accept the punishment for his mistake, but it had been less easy to answer that question and realize that no, he wasn't crazy. That he had acted on his own, clearly aware of the consequences. That he had done it just because he wanted to see Wei Wuxian smile, just as simple as that.

And if his heart had stopped for a second when he did realize that Wei Wuxian had become Wei Ying -both in his mind and on his lips- well, once again that was a secret only for himself.

“Six”.

He honestly didn't think what his brother had been thinking when he had convinced Wei Ying to visit the Cool Pond. Not that WangJi minded his company, but it was embarrassing nonetheless.

And the last thing he had expected from that afternoon was to end up in a secret cave, meet one of the immortals of his sect and learn such a dark part of history. They had both realized that their future would have changed soon and that those happy days weren't going to last long.

A part of WangJi's mind, despite being in front of such an estimated cultivator, couldn't stop thinking about the ribbon around Wei Ying's wrist. That same ribbon that was meant to be touched only by the family was wrapped around that same boy he had been thinking about for the past months. He knew -damn if he was aware of it- that it didn't mean anything, not for Wei Ying at least. He knew it, but he couldn't stop thinking about the implications.

He wished he hadn't kept silent about them.

“Seven”.

The annual tradition of the lanterns had always been one of his favourite moments. That year he had to fight against his own feelings, knowing that they could never be mutual.

He had watched Wei Ying while he was busy decorating his own lantern, trying not to stare at his adorable frown and the curve of his smile. He wanted to be able to keep listening to that laugh, but he did know that those happy moments weren't destined to last. How could he keep living without Wei Ying? How could he go back to his own colourless life after he had discovered such a joyful reality existed?

Choking a groan, WangJi wondered what had happened if he had been sincere from the beginning. With himself, with Wei Ying. Would have something gone differently? Would have Wei Ying trust him more? Would have he been able to avoid the future tragedy?

“Eight”.

The following months were a confusing blur in his mind. Wei Ying had been expelled from Cloud Recessed and his sister's engagement had been canceled. In some way, that had been the start of the changes between the sects. It was clear that the balance between their powers was very fragile and no one was willing to disrupt it.

But no matter how difficult things were, WangJi had been strangely grateful for the annual Hunting Night, even if it had been organized by the Wen. He never liked those kinds of meetings, he'd rather go Night Hunting by himself or with his sect's disciples. But that year he hadn't been able to hide his excitement -in front of his brother, at least- and he had almost lost all his composure when he had heard Wei Ying's laugh after so many months.

He had expected so much from that day that he had let his imagination run free. But he could have never predicted that, for the second time, his precious ribbon could end in the hands of the same person. It had been an accident -and maybe also his fault, since he had been so busy running away to hide his embarrassment- and it didn't have any meaning. He did know it. But it hadn't been any easier to hide his emotions. Not for the first time, WangJi had been grateful for his ability to keep a stoic expression even while his heart was burning in his chest.

“Nine”.

As the Immortal Lan Yi had predicted, the situation had gone for the worst really fast. Wen Rouhan had decided to stop pretending and they had started to unleash all their power. One of their first objectives had been Cloud Recessed and if WangJi closed his eyes, he could still see his own home burning into ashes.

One of the biggest regrets of his life was how little he had been able to do for his own clan. He hadn't been strong enough, fast enough, brave enough. He hadn't been able to avoid people being killed or injured, he hadn't been able to protect his father or his uncle and he had to accept his brother's disappearance.

For the first time in months, WangJi had stored Wei Ying in a corner of his mind, trying to concentrate all his power on helping his sect. He didn't care if he was hurting, he couldn't just sit there and watch his family being destroyed.

“Ten”.

For that very reason, he hadn't protested much when the Wen issued the decree which forced all the clans to send their disciples to be “indoctrinated”. They were hostages, they all knew that, but there weren't many other options.

Despite all the tragic events of the past weeks, being able to see Wei Ying had been more like a balm that managed to calm his spirit. He had been the only one who had cared enough to ask if he was okay, the only one to worry about his sect, the only one to smile at him. Lan WangJi had never been able to express his gratitude with words and he was aware that his own emotionless face was far from being easy to read. This time, he had been so annoyed with that part of himself who couldn't bring hi to say a simple “thank you”.

“Eleven”.

If WangJi wasn't really capable to use his words, he didn't have the same problems with his actions. He hadn't hesitated when he had stayed back to help Wei Ying against the Tortoise of Slaughter, even if he was injured himself. Well, maybe he could have lived also without the endless chatting and embarrassing flirting of that boy, but at least he had something that could distract him from the pain in his leg.

In that cave, he finally had the chance to let a piece of his mask fall. He hadn't felt any fear in front of Wei Ying and he had just cried. He could probably count on one hand the times he had cried in front of someone, but in that situation of life and death, he just had to let go of all his restraint. Being overly emotional was against the rules, but he had just lost his father, he had lost part of his sect, he didn't even know if they would survive that stupid giant creature and it was just too much.

“Twelve”.

Lan WangJi had composed WangXian a few weeks after he had met Wei Wuxian. He couldn't recall exactly when the melody had started to form in his mind, but when he had completed the song he had also realized what his feelings were. And he had accepted them when he had chosen that name.

After killing the Tortoise of Slaughter he had saved a weak and feverish Wei Ying, whose conditions were much worse than what he had imagined. He didn't know how long they could last, their spiritual energies were depleting fast and they could just hope that Jiang Wanyin was already returning with some help.

He couldn't do much to help the other man and he when Wei Ying had spoken those words - “Can you sing me a song, Lan Zhan?”- he hadn't hesitated for a second.

“Thirteen”.

Even if gossip was forbidden in Cloud Recessed, news of what was happening in the world still traveled to Gusu quite easily. WangJi had listened about the attack at Lotus Pier, Jiang Leader's death and the two disciples' disappearance with a heavy heart. He had hoped the two men -even if he really cared about just one of them- were safe and hidden somewhere.

WangJi held his breath when the whip hit his skin, clenching his fists to focus on something else. He didn't want to scream, not yet. The pain was nothing compared to when he had discovered that Wei Wuxian was nowhere to be found. He still could remember how his heart had almost stopped at the thought that he could have been... dead. Back then he had followed Jiang Wanyin without even questioning him, knowing that he was the only person who was as eager to find Wei Ying, alive.

It wasn't an alliance, they weren't friends, but they had the same goal and both of them were willing to put aside their opinion of the other. WangJi could not help to wonder what had happened between the two brothers to make the new Jiang Leader turn his back on Wei Ying. He had been so desperate to find him back then, how could have he abandoned him after that?

“Fourteen”.

The arrangements for the so-called “Sunshot Campaign” had helped him to keep his mind busy for three whole months. Three months of fear and anticipation, three months in which his whole attention was split between the worry about his brother and Wei Ying.

Jiang Wanyin may not have been the most pleasant company -not that WangJi was the funniest man alive, he had nothing to say about that- but he was efficient and smart, despite his young age. And he was the main reason why they never stopped their search, no matter how tired they were. “My brother is a fool, but he will never die like this”. WangJi wasn't sure why he was so obstinate, but he appreciated it. He needed it to keep his own hope alive.

Once again, WangJi had always wondered if they could have done something more, back then. Could have they found Wei Ying sooner? Could have they found him before it was too late? Or maybe things were destined to go that way, somehow?

“Fifteen”.

Realizing that Wei Ying was alive had been a relief until he had understood what was happening. It was clear that something had changed, and he wasn't just talking about how thin the other boy looked in his dark clothes. His eyes were hiding something and even his laugh wasn't as bright as before.

One of the main teachings of his sect was “do not associate with evil”. WangJi had grown up believing in those teaching and learning that any kind of cultivation that deviated from the correct one was to be condemned. But in the desperate effort to understand what was happening in front of his eyes -the two ghouls, the torture of Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu and that strange dark fog that was flowing in the room- WangJi had realized that he didn't care if that was wrong. His only thought was “is Wei Ying okay?”.

“Sixteen”.

“Come back to Gusu with me”.

WangJi couldn't hold a whimper at the next hit and at the memory of those words. What had really hurt had been the angry expression on Wei Ying's face. WangJi had tried to explain, he had tried to let the other understand how dangerous that path was for his own well being. He had never been good with words and at that moment he had hated his own shortcoming. Why was it always so difficult to repeat his thoughts? I want to protect you. I don't want you to suffer. I want to help you. I love you.

Instead, all that he had managed to say had been those few words, which in the end at the opposite effect of what he had wanted to say. Wei Ying had walked away -once again- frowning in front of his offer and reading it as the mere wish to follow the rules.

He didn't care about the rules, he didn't care about anything else. Why couldn't he just say it?

“Seventeen”.

The weeks before the final battle had been busy for everyone. WangJi had been overjoyed at his brother's return, even if slightly worried about his contact inside Nightless City. He had been even more worried about Wei Ying, but they weren't in a situation in which he could really look after the other all the time.

He was mostly worried about the whisper that he couldn't really seem to avoid. He hadn't been the only one to realize that Wei Ying's new cultivation's form was way too different from the correct way. The cultivation world had always considered resentful energy only as part of demonic cultivation -not that there had been any different ways of using resentful energy, to be honest- and it was strange to see such a talented young man deviate from the right path.

WangJi had often watched him from afar, watching every single time he tried to hide his pain or his worries, listening while he played Chenqing. He couldn't help but stare when the other was caught in his thoughts, his mind clearly far away. He wanted to help him, he wanted to erase that frown from his youthful face, he wanted to just make him understand that he was an ally, a friend, even. But he never managed to push those thoughts through his lips.

WangJi was worried because he couldn't understand as well. He had never understood, even in the following years, the reasons why Wei Ying had decided to follow that path. And maybe that was the main reason he hadn't been able to really save him, in the end.

“Eighteen”.

Before the last battle, Wei Ying had shown his new abilities more than once, even if he never revealed why he was so sure that he could defeat Wen Ruohan.

Only when they entered the Nightless City everyone finally had the chance to see what he had prepared. It was definitely the last thing they were expecting, fighting their enemy with his own power. In front of the whole cultivation world, Wei Ying used that new power to raise an army of living corpses and brought them to victory.

The last battle had been long and with many losses, but WangJi could only think about how he could protect Wei Ying. From the other clans, from that new power, from himself. He didn't understand, but he was willing to if Wei Ying had given him a chance. He just wanted him to live.

Despite the victory, WangJi couldn't ignore that bitter taste on his tongue. So many things had changed in the past months, so many people had died, was it really the right moment to celebrate? But then he had watched Wei Ying, alive and safe, despite everything, and he had thought that, maybe, there was indeed something to be happy about.

“Nineteen”.

WangJi had never liked the official meeting, the Conferences of the banquets, but he had to join his brother in the celebrations for the end of the war. He didn't say anything about the Jin sect, which had joined at the last moment and was acting as if they had fought in the first lines. They didn't, everyone knew, but no one was saying anything as well. WangJi couldn't understand why. He knew that he wasn't supposed to talk behind other people's backs, but those were his thoughts and no one was there to judge him but himself.

To avoid thinking about the Jin sect he had spent the whole banquet looking at Wei Ying. He had felt something so close to pride when he had talked back to Jin Guangshan about his sister's wedding and he had wished he had the courage to say something to help him. Not that it was his place, after all.

He hadn't followed him outside only because he knew better how to behave as a representative of his sect, but he had often thought about what would had happened if he did. Would have the sect acted differently if he had supported Wei Ying from the beginning?

“Twenty”.

“Uncle, please. Stop”.

“WangJi, do you regret your actions?”.

Silence. WangJi was way too focused on trying to maintain his dignity intact to really answer, but he didn't have anything to say regardless. His back was a burning hell and his heart was strangled in a painful gasp, how could he answer? What could he say?

“Go on”.

Another hit, another memory.

His brother, who was now crying for him, had talked to him about the hunt in Phoenix Mountain with a knowing look and WangJi had decided to join him faster than usual. In the past months he had spent many nights thinking about Wei Ying, but with the reconstruction of Cloud Recessed he never had the chance to travel to Yunmeng.

When he finally saw him again, proud and tall on the saddle of his horse, with his smile and his laugh so loud, his heart had skipped a couple of beats. He wished to be able to say that the time had changed his feelings, but he was a Lan disciple and he didn't lie. Not that he could even pretend, not with how strong he was gripping his reins, not with how hard it was to maintain a straight expression.

And if his brother had noticed any of those signs, at least he could pretend they weren't happening.

“Twenty-one”.

WangJi had often thought back about that day. About the discussion with the Jin and the drama between Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli, but mostly about Wei Ying. About how proud he had been when he had shown his archery skills, blinded and with five arrows. So similar to the young man he had met back in Cloud Recesses and that had changed his life.

For the first time -not in his dreams, to be honest, but no one had to know about that- WangJi had been overwhelmed by desire. His sect had clear rules about what was proper in a relationship, but somehow, when Wei Ying was concerned WangJi always found it so easy to forget them. He wished to say he hadn't followed just his instincts, but the truth was that he did. He couldn't help himself, with Wei Ying. When he had seen him on that tree, free and beautiful, he hadn't found any strength left to pretend.

His first kiss. It didn't matter how painful was his punishment, the only memory of that kiss was enough to forget everything else. He had been a coward, he at least knew as much. He had thought so much about taking off that ribbon, he had thought so much about Wei Ying's reactions at that moment.

WangJi still didn't believe that Wei Ying could ever reciprocate his feelings, but a little part of his heart wanted to believe that he could have done something to change that. If only he hadn't been a coward.

“Twenty-two”.

And then, he had to watch another tragedy evolve in front of his eyes. At that point, he didn't really believe he was powerless, but that he rather wanted to be. He knew that the treatment of the Wen was wrong, that it went against all his sect's principles, but he still didn't do anything.

But Wei Ying did, as a real cultivator should have done. He had stood by the powerless, he had fought for justice. And he had become the enemy. After all those years WangJi still didn't understand how the sects could be so blind. But, and the end, didn't he choose to close his eyes as well?

Wei Ying had been so brave and powerful, so fearless in front of all the sects. And while his approach hadn't been the wisest -remembering them that he was indeed the strongest maybe wasn't the way to avoid bloodshed- it had been surely the most honest one. Wei Ying had always been like that. So true to himself and to his values, so beautiful in his stubbornness. WangJi had secretly wished to have the same courage.

“Twenty three”.

He hadn't really thought about the after when he followed Wei Ying to the Qiongqi Path. What was he going to do? Stopping him? Helping him? Fighting him? Had he really killed all those people? Why? How? Why did everything seem so wrong? Why was he forced to choose between right and wrong when the whole justice compass was so confused?

Under the rain, Wei Ying had looked more like a ghost than like the man he used to know. Once again, WangJi hadn't been able to convey his feelings. He hadn't been able to express his fears and his desire to protect him. Once again, he had watched the possibility to help him slip away from his fingers.

“If you leave now, then you're truly abandoning the classic teachings and rebelling against orthodoxy. You can never turn back”.

As the lash hit his back, WangJi couldn't hold a scream of pain. If it was for the burning on his skin or for that memory, he really wasn't in the right mindset to decide.

“Twenty four”.

The conference during the following day had been hell. It had never been so difficult to maintain his stoic face and control his rage. How could those people be so careless with their words? How could their enemy change so quickly, as if they just needed someone to blame for everything?

His knuckles had become white from the way he had been clenching on Bichen as if he had needed his sword to be reminded that he couldn't act without thinking, that he couldn't be reckless. And then he had watched MianMian talking in front of those men, trying to make them see some reason in their assumptions. It hadn't worked, obviously, but WangJi had once more wished he could be as free. But he had his family, his clan. Could he really leave everything behind? Was it really worth it? He did know what was the right choice, what he should have done, but not being the easiest one had helped him to justify himself.

He really didn't have a choice, did he?

“Hanguang-jun”. MianMian had greeted him with respect, a serious expression on her face. WangJi had bowed in response.

“If you want to cultivate, Gusu Lan can accept you”. He didn't need his brother's approval, he knew that Xichen wouldn't have opposed his words.

“Thank you, Hanguang-jun”.

They didn't share any other words. They were not needed. They didn't really know each other personally, but both of them had recognized what was happening. It was the same pattern, finding an enemy and making him the target for every blame. It was so obvious that it should have been embarrassing to recognize that truth.

WangJi had briefly thought if that behavior was really following his sect's teaching and if being different was enough to justify the hate and the bashing. He wasn't sure he was ready to answer that question.

“Twenty-five”.

He had taken months to get the approval to go night hunting in Yiling. He wasn't sure that his uncle had really approved, but he was ready to accept any punishment. And every worry had disappeared when he had heard that voice.

“Lan Zhan!”.

Oh, how grateful he had been for all the years he had spent working on his facial expressions. It had never been so difficult to stop a smile forming on his lips and match the one on Wei Ying's face. It had never been so difficult to remind himself that he couldn't leave everything behind -his family, his sect, his values. It had never been so difficult to stop himself from hugging Wei Ying and pretending that all that had happened in the past months had been just a dream.

WangJi had never wished for something with such a powerful desire, to the point that he could feel it in his stomach. And the child that was introduced as Wen Yuan hadn't helped him to clench his thirst -if nothing, seeing Wei Ying with him had awakened a new level of his hopes, which would have hunted him in his dreams.

He had never been so scared of losing the hold on his own restraints. He had promised himself to keep his feelings deep in his heart, he had tried so hard to convince himself that he couldn't have more, after that stolen kiss. But seeing Wei Ying after such a long time and allowing his mind to drink every detail so that he could remember them after had shaken that promise to his core.

Had it really been worth it?

“Twenty-six”.

WangJi had often heard stories about the Burial Mounds, how they were created and how dangerous they were, with all that resentful energy that no one could control. He had wondered how someone could live there, between those dead trees and the never-ending screams of pain and rage that filled the whole place.

Only when he had set foot on the little camp the Wen had created WangJi had realized that people, if desperate enough, were willing to live everywhere. And he had also realized that there was no army of living dead, but just elders and injured people. And a child. He had never felt so sick in his whole life, watching those people looking at him with such fear, as if he was there to destroy that last shred of hope. How could he call himself a cultivator?

Those images were still burned in his mind and nothing, not even his uncle's rage nor that punishment, could ever erase them.

For the first time, WangJi had come to acknowledge that there was no black and white, no right and wrong. He had found himself on one side of that battle without even realizing that he was helping to kill innocent people. The fact that he hadn't his blood on his hands was just a detail.

He deserved that punishment, but for different reasons.

“Twenty seven”.

Wei Ying would have loved to see his sister. He had been invited to the wedding between the Jiang and the Jin and he had followed his brother only because he had hoped to see Wei Ying as well.

He obviously hadn't been invited, how could he? But still, no one more than he deserved to see his sister and be joyful with her during that day. It was so wrong that he was deprived of that right just because people were scared of him.

Despite the celebration, WangJi hadn't really been able to express any happiness. Everything was so wrong, how could he be happy when Wei Ying was forced away from his family and buried with faults that didn't belong to him?

He had hated how the guests had drunk and eaten as if they hadn't declared war in that same hall. He had hated how Jiang Wanyin was standing proud beside his sister as if his other brother wasn't buried in a place full of death. He had hated how powerless he had felt at that moment, forced to watch everyone smile and not be able to do anything to make things different.

For all his life he had been just a bystander, his hands bounded behind his back and his mouth shut by his own sect's teachings. He couldn't talk and he couldn't move.

That day he was being punished for his idleness.

“Twenty-eight”.

WangJi had agreed to follow his brother to the newborn Jin Rulan's celebration just because he had hoped -once again- to see Wei Ying. In the past months, he had thought plenty about what he had seen and what was the correct way to act, but in the end, he had just pretended that everything was okay. He hadn't come back to the Burial Mounds again and there hadn't been many occasions to leave Cloud Recesses.

Of course, Wei Ying hadn't been invited, but by the look on his sister's face, he understood that he wasn't the only one thinking that someone was missing.

While he was flying back to Gusu, he couldn't' help but think how long that kind of peace would have lasted. Would Wei Ying be forced to live in the Burial Mounds forever? What about the Wens, what about the little Wen Yuan? Were there really no other options? Was there really no hope to find a common ground and go back to how things were before?

Was it really a hopeless situation?

“Twenty-nine”.

An answer to those questions arrived just a couple of months after with such a timing that WangJi was starting to get suspicious. What better occasion for getting rid of Wei Wuxian if not during his nephew's one hundred's day celebration?

Lan WangJi didn't like to have ill opinions about others, or at least he didn't like to do it openly. But while he was listening to the report of what had happened at the Qiongqi Path, he couldn't help but get angry. Those accusations were so clearly fake that he couldn't understand how people were believing in them. They didn't need to know Wei Ying personally to know that he would have never harmed a member of his family, and yet Jin Zixuan was dead. Truth and lies were blurred at the point that no one was really willing to understand what had really happened nor why. They just wanted revenge and they weren't interested in listening to any reason.

Even his brother, despite his pleads -“Xiongzhang, please...”- had condemned Wei Ying. Without a trial, without knowing the dynamics, without even bothering to pretend they cared about justice at all.

And then WangJi had asked himself what was his limit. How long could he just be a bystander in front of what was happening?

“Thirty”.

WangJi couldn't control his body anymore. He had lost his composure long ago and he was now folded in half on his own legs. The pain was dazzling and he wasn't sure of what was happening around him anymore. He could hear his uncle's voice and his brother's cries, but everything else was a blur of pain and tears. He couldn't feel anything else but the burn on his back and the grip around his heart.

He wondered if that pain was similar to the one Wei Ying must have felt when he had discovered that the Wen had decided to sacrifice themselves for him -a useless sacrifice, even WangJi could tell, because Jin Guangshan would have never stopped at them.

Lan WangJi didn't have anything else but that pain and the memory of the man he had loved so hard. He screamed again, losing his breath at the thought that he would have never seen him again.

“Thirty-one”.

Was it really necessary to celebrate the extinction of a whole sect in the same place that had seen so much death? What did it mean, to be a cultivator? Was this what made them so special? WangJi wasn't so sure of it himself anymore.

Any question was lost in front of Wei Ying. He didn't miss his teary eyes nor how his hands were trembling in rage and despair. His laugh wasn't enough to cover his pain and Wei Ying probably didn't care anymore. WangJi didn't want to fight with him, he just wanted to stop that madness. But it was clear that no one was really interested in a peaceful ending anymore.

He wondered where the point of no return had been. Watching his sister's death had destroyed Wei Ying, but something else had happened at the same time and he had lost control.

WangJi had barely been able to save him from his own powers, he had ignored his brother's cries and he had just left. Cradling Wei Ying on his chest he had unsheathed Bichen and he had decided to fly to the only place he could think of. He didn't care if he had chosen the evil, he didn't care about his sect's opinion nor about the rules.

He wanted to save Wei Ying, and he was ready for everything to protect him.

“Thirty two”.

The Burial Mounds were as cold and barren as he remembered, but he couldn't bring Wei Ying to Cloud Recessed, even if that was his own home.

Wei Ying hadn't seem too happy to realize that he was still alive and he had tried to make WangJi leave, but he didn't care. He had turned his back way too many times already, he was tired of being a coward. And now that he had chosen a side, he could just walk forward on that path.

What he hadn't expected was to see a group of Lan disciples enter the Burial Mounds, his own uncle leading them. He didn't want to fight his own brothers, but he needed to protect Wei Ying. He desperately wanted to talk, to make them -his uncle- understand the right from the wrong, but at that point he wondered if they were even willing to listen.

So he fought with a deep ache in his heart, he fought despite being injured and tired. He had a goal now, he could not give up that easily. He was the great Hanguang-jun, wasn't he? What was the use of that title if he couldn't even protect the person he loved?

“Thirty-three”.

Maybe he wasn't really worthy of that title. He was defeated and brought back to Cloud Recesses, leaving Wei Ying alone. An injured Wei Ying, alone with all that resentment and his own regrets and fears.

“I hope this punishment had the desired effect, WangJi”.

The hoarse voice of his uncle somehow penetrated into his foggy mind. Only then he realized that the hits were finished, but why hadn't the pain around his heart diminished as well?

“No”. He managed to mutter those words. He was so tired of keeping his own emotions to himself. No, that punishment hadn't had the desired effect. Not the one his uncle had wished, at least. WangJi had nothing to repent in front of his sect and there was only one person who truly deserved his apologies.

He felt his own consciousness slip away, but there was something else he needed to say. “I'm sorry... Wei Ying”.

I hope you can forgive me.