Chapter Text
Jiang Wanyin remembers when his mother would swaddle him and hold him close to her chest. Those days were bright and glorious; the days when Yu Ziyuan's face had no reason to sour in his father's presence, and the days his elder sister could do what she loved in peace.
Wei Wuxian would leave his irreversible mark on Yunmeng Jiang.
Nobody but Jiang Wanyin remembers – for Jiang Yanli is dead and Wei Wuxian never experienced such a thing – how his mother's eyes would crinkle when she found something terribly amusing, how she would hum when puzzled, and how she would absentmindedly stroke his hair. Gently, and with tender care, as if he were her trustworthy Zidian.
Yu Ziyuan hailed from Meishan Yu—an unforgiving sect which raised its daughters to take everything from the world, and never give anything in return. Jiang Wanyin used to wonder whether their teachings encouraged stealing hearts, too, for his father could never take his eyes off her. As a child, he had never understood. As an adult, he realised far too late.
The lotus seeds were terribly bitter when autumn swung around. His mother loved picking them; she once explained that they were grounding and often shocked her out of her anger. He tentatively suggested Zidian could do the exact same thing. Nobody but Jiang Wanyin remembered how she guffawed, eyes bright and shoulders raised high, as she pretended to box his ears. He ducked away clumsily, but she eventually caught him anyway.
Yu Ziyuan could never present herself as a sweet-tempered and gentle woman, like how his sister did. It was not in her nature to abide, and to compromise, and to atone. She was not perfect; Yu- furen was callous, bitter, rude, vicious, fierce, and violent. She was not the ideal woman.
Jiang Wanyin loved her.
Contrary to popular belief, Jiang Wanyin would never regret being Wei Wuxian's beloved shidi. He still was considered as such—tentatively by Wei Wuxian and begrudgingly by the esteemed Hanguang-jun. But he often did ponder over the simpler times, when Yu Ziyuan was not so consumed by her hatred and insecurity. It was only when he echoed her, that he understood.
His mother had been scared. Terrified, even. She never wanted to lose Jiang Fengmian, or his sister, or even Jiang Wanyin himself.
He loved his mother dearly.
Jiang Wanyin could only hope that he had finally made her proud.