Chapter 4

There were many occasions in life, when Wangji felt that words were not necessary and several times when words simply failed him.

A-Yuan doesn't seem mind that he is quiet.

By resolutely not allowing himself to think of any moment beyond this one, this breath... this situation...he had been able to painstakingly begin a routine. A-Yuan would arrive at seven am every morning, quietly following Lan Ai along what must seem like endless corridors, but his little face was always happy when he walked inside the Jingshi.

A-Yuan is a quiet, obedient child, often nervous but never timid. He sits just inside the door, ignoring the stool to remove his boots, before quickly padding inside, excited to learn and discover.

His cheerfulness is surprising, considering that the Cloud Recesses are new environment and to be frank, he was Wei Ying's son. A man who might have been a feared demonic cultivator as an adult, but Wangji had known him as a troublemaker well before that, flouting rules like water flows off a crane's back. Yet, he had taught A-Yuan manners, patience and kindness, so much so that the boy is a pleasure to teach and his table manners for a three year old, are impeccable.

Wangji has effortlessly become 'Father' a fact that would worry him, because it is a title that belongs to Wei Ying, but in A-Yuan's mind, Wei Ying is still his mother. The child refuses to think otherwise, so Wangji allows the subject to lie dormant, but recently he has learned that there was at some point, a Grandmother. He is curious but Yuan goes quiet and barely speaks for the rest of the lessons, so unlike the usual effusive response, so he asks nothing further.

Xichen is pleased to see how well he has settled in and A-Yuan is soon calling him uncle, sitting by his feet when he plays his xiao or tells him stories, that even entertain Wangji.

"You are a father now, Wangji. I am proud of both you." He says one night, as he leaves.

He is a father. It seems so strange to have earned that title, to look at this beautiful child, so adorably loving and be able to say that he is his son.

When he plays Inquiry, he pleads for Wei Ying to come home. To come back to him.

When he plays Sorrow, he asks about Yuan. Asks if Wei Ying is angry, he is now Yuan's father, in an official sense. There is no reply, but Yuan finds a red ball with no owner, the following day and Wangji wonders if this Wei Ying's blessing.

During their lessons, he ignores the pain and tries not to think about Wei Ying too much. He uses the time to engage with Yuan, to teach and to strengthen their bond, because that is what Wei Ying would say. "Without roots a tree cannot grow Lan Zhan!"

Roots. Yes. So he tries to overcome his own reticence. He learns that Yuan has understandable issues with food, that he tries to overcome. The issues are born from starvation and Wei Ying himself had a complex relationship with food. He enjoyed it, when he remembered to eat, but seemed to be able to go days without sustenance, well before he became the Yiling Patriarch or even studied inedia.

The answer he finds, is to cook them a meal for the midday break. He would be lying if he claimed the look of wonder on Yuan's face is not part of the reason, but the unconsidered benefit has been Yuan's excitement.

He would stand by Wangji watching from the floor, transfixed by curiosity and the memory of days long hunger, so Wangji picks him up and places him on a stool, or holds him as Wei Ying did once, so he can watch from a safe distance. He has never tolerated touch well, but he finds he doesn't mind holding Yuan, who sits quietly in his arms, one tiny hand holding the edge of his robes.

Yesterday, he told Wei Ying playing Sorrow again, that Yuan had patted cheek like he used to do with Wei Ying. That he still hugs his knee and sometimes laughs when Wangji picks him up. He tells him that Yuan now walks excitedly towards him at the door, instead of running, but still calls 'Father' in an excited tone.

The breeze touches his hair and he hopes it is Wei Ying.

Cooking and eating together, this becomes a small ritual, the same recipes never losing their allure, tiny hands offering him a spoon or seasoning, those ocean eyes filled with awe. He always without fail, says thank you in the Yunmeng dialect at the end of the meal and collects his utensils as if this is a old tradition, his smile happy.

It turns out that Yuan dislikes spice, much to Wangji's relief, but the experiment bears fruit that is unexpected. After a week, Yuan begins to speak quietly, telling him about Wei Ying mostly, small stories that Wangji treasures. He learns that Wei Ying played the flute for him every night, how his love had told him stories that Yuan now repeats.

Some of them are wild tales, perfect for entertaining a young mind, but others are disturbing, speaking of a time in Wei Ying's life, he knew nothing about. Tales of being hungry on the streets as way to explain Yiling he supposed, of his deceased parents and dogs chasing him, while adults shouted or laughed. How he promised Yuan that his past, would never be Yuan's future, while Wei Ying still breathed.

It won't be his future now, not with Wangji at his side.

Those stories are hard to hear and worse to think of. He thinks of all the different things people have said over the years and he wonders how long Wei Ying lived by himself on the streets. How it explained so many facets of his personality and how when kicked, Wei Ying fought, refusing to kneel to anyone, those grey eyes flashing with anger, so old nothing could wash away its fire.

Lan Ai tells him of the standard for young children and Wangji finds that Yuan has surpassed this in many ways. He has a vocabulary of three hundred words now, he can answer simple questions in sentences of five to six words, he understands time and can pronounce each word clearly. He was however struggling with numbers and Wangji had been so proud when A-Yuan had counted from one to one hundred without stopping.

In the coming weeks he plans to teach him the basics of stretching and centering his mind, as flexibility is a test he cannot fail, but for now he focuses on his basic knowledge. It was a joy to teach him. He was an avid learner, his mind inquisitive and his hopeful expression, when he moved the complete page closer to Wangji was heartbreaking but sweet.

Despite his worsening condition, he hid the effects from A-Yuan, not wanting to upset the child, or force him to relive difficult times. It was a balm to his shredded heart to see the little boy settle into a new life, away from death and heartache.

Wei Ying would be so proud but more than that, he would be happy, that the little boy he loved so much, was alive, safe and growing. That everything he had suffered to keep him alive had been worth it. Some days he could imagine Wei Ying running with Yuan as he played with his toy butterfly, laughing as he showed it to his growing audience of curious rabbits.

These daily lessons are proving to be more of a success than he thought. Yuan's vocabulary is growing and it is a relief to know that his first days of formal education will not be difficult for A-Yuan when he reaches the appropriate age. They will not be able to easily use his early beginnings against him, by claiming he is not intelligent or well-read. Wangji will give them no excuse to taunt Wei Ying's son.

It had been a wonderful discovery that A-Yuan's writing was an echo of Wei Ying's style. The same strokes and careless curves that Wangji would never correct, marveling at the similarities when he carefully added his new words to the pages to memorize.

The days pass slowly and he thinks of Wei Ying more than ever. He won't become his father, he thinks. Wei Ying would be horrified, would look at him with pity, as if those choices were taken from him, so he became what he found hard to forgive. A man who found no joy in two sons and only focused on his pain. Wei Ying would not forgive him, for hurting Yuan either and he finds that seclusion is no answer and he promised that he would not find death, not when he has a son to care for.

I will not falter Wei Ying, I will not fail either you or Yuan, not in this.

So he stands by the door every evening, Yuan at his side, strengthened by the knowledge that he must consider tomorrow's lesson.

A boy spoke from his memories, "Look at me Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan! You could try words."

"You did well today Yuan." He says suddenly, staring down at ocean eyes that brighten with happiness immediately.

"Thank you Father." Wangji nods and smiles internally at the Yunmeng dialect.

Goodnight Father." He then says softly still staring up at Wangji, when they both heard Lan Ai knock on the door, arriving to collect him for dinnertime.

"Goodnight." He replies, patting his head gently, his mind already thinking of Inquiry.