XiCheng: The Last Lotus [AU- OMEGAVERSE]

{prologue}

They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Lan Xichen begged to differ.

Because his heart was by no means fonder.

In fact- if anything- his heart became more and more twisted- shattering into millions of little pieces- like the splintered pieces of a glass mirror. Over and over again it broke- torn and ruptured until it became distorted and cracked, so far gone that Lan Xichen himself didn't even know what had become of it.

It felt like there was a hole in his chest where his heart should've been- a chasm that stretched inside him.

It hurt to breathe, the heavy weight on his chest sometimes becoming too much for him to bear. It suffocated him, constricting his lungs until the pain got unbearable- a sharp sting flaring up every time he wheezed in much-needed air. Sometimes Lan Xichen would often find himself out of breath- panting and gasping for something that was long gone.

He would reach his hands out- as if waiting for long, calloused fingers to entwine with his own.

And when it didn't- he would stare off into space, brows furrowed and glaring at the empty spot on his bed, as if it had personally offended him in some way.

And perhaps to an outsider- this would've been concerning. To see the esteemed Zewu Jun with such a rare frown on his face.

Perhaps they would've mirrored his frown, tilting their heads in confusion at the sight of the unkempt Hanshi.

The set of tea that was always steaming hot and carefully arranged around the table- always two cups that were poured and refilled at the start of each day. The white walls that still held a smudge of paint- the vacant space on the side of the room that was the perfect size for a large portrait to hang. The unoccupied blankets and sheets- the bed that was too big to fit only one person. The pair of desks that were placed right in front of one another- almost as if hinting the inhabitance of another tenant.

It was clear from the way the Hanshi was laid out- that it had been set up for two people to live in.

But anyone that knew the Lan's or knew of Lan Xichen in general- also knew that it was only Zewu Jun that occupied the lonely space of the Hanshi.

Why though- was what baffled them.

Because only the Sect Leader was allowed to reside in the Hanshi.

And Lan Xichen- while he was the formal and proper leader of Gusu- was by no means ready to leave his seclusion. So the unofficial consensus was that the Lan's were led by none other than Lan Qiren and Han-Guang Jun- the First Jade having long lost the splendor of his youth.

He was just like his father, they would murmur- tsking and shaking their head in disappointment. And just like his father- the rumors soon began to run amok, as whispers sounded behind closed doors- theories being exchanged over a good bottle of wine.

Some people wondered why the honorable young man whose stories were somewhat of a legend- became so sullen in his grief. They wondered why he was so gloomy and distraught- why he locked himself away in his seclusion. It confused them to no end, why such a promising young talent would close himself off from his only family- from the cultivational world as a whole.

How perplexing.

The slight tremble of Lan Xichen's figure- the quivering of his bottom lip. The way his eyes would glaze over- as if looking out at the ghosts of his past. The instinctive curl of his arm- his body unconsciously pressing up against something in his sleep. The way he would twitch in the dark hours of night, burying his nose in the cold and empty bed sheets- as if searching for a scent that had long been gone.

The way his gaze would turn melancholy, a bittersweet smile flitting across his face whenever he chanced a glance outside the window at the lotus pond his brother had planted for him.

The way he would find himself bringing out two sets of tea- unable to help himself from pouring a second cup.

It was almost as if there was someone else there- their phantom presence lingering in the heart of the Lan Sect Leader.

And on some nights- when the moon was bright and full, the sound of the xiao rang out, a haunting melody weaving through Cloud Recesses.

They say that Lan Xichen plays for a ghost- a man whose soul has already left this Earth.

They say that the only time he ever smiles- is the once-a-month trips his children make to see him. And even then, the smiles are tired and weary- barely ever touching his eyes.

They say that once every year during the Mid-Autumn Festival- one could hear the soft sounds of crying through the doors of the Hanshi, the whimpering sobs of Zewu Jun himself.

They say that he's waiting for someone- vainly expecting someone who will never show up.

And then they start to wonder.

Who is it that he waits for? That he yearns for day and night?

Who could snare the illustrious Lan Xichen? The greatest amongst his peers.

Who could hold the attention of the number one bachelor? A man whose beauty is so otherworldly- whose light remains unparalleled.

Who is so capable of accomplishing such a feat? To put this god amongst men in seclusion for eight whole years- unwilling to see anyone but his children?

Who is so great- so great as to send both Yunmeng and Gusu into a state of perpetual mourning?

And who- who do the great sects refuse to speak of? Whose memory do they selfishly hoard?

Who? Who? Who?

They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Lan Xichen says fuck the old coots and their stupid ideals of love.

*I did add this as a prologue much later on (for clarity purposes & to stick with the summary) so just ignore the way my writing does a full dip in the next chapter. also 99% of this book was pandemic writing when i was 13 so pls bear with how CRINGE some of this is if ur reading in 2024.