The Untamed Oneshots / CQL / WangXian

Artwork Memories

Requested by: myself. I indulged a bit and I loved every second of it.

Note: I know I say 'WangXian' but the song I mean is actually 'Wuji'. Bear with me.

"Alcohol is prohibited in Cloud Recesses," a man showered in heavenly white robes stated coldly, face void of any emotion.

Wei Ying chuckled lightly, leaning over to whisper conspiratorially to him. "Eh-he, if you forget you saw me, then I'll give you a jar. What do you say?"

"Bribing an official is prohibited."

His bottom lip jutted out in a tiny pout as he rolled his eyes, scoffing. "What is not prohibited then? Aiyah, just let me pass this once," but the moment he tried to step forward, an icy blade crafted by immortal hands flew out of its scabbard and hovered inches from Wei Wuxian's neck. One wrong move and he'd be wearing a necklace of bloody rubies to his deathbed.

He eyed the youth, no more than a few years older than him, and felt enchanted by the set of steely brown orbs that stared him down in distaste. And despite his predicament, Wei Wuxian felt like smiling when he stumbled upon a certain realization.

It was his eyes.

His face remained unmoving, but all of his emotions glimmered brightly in his eyes.

"A-Xian, may I come in?"

Humming an absentminded affirmative, Wei Wuxian poured all his attention into his project.

The door to his studio opened and soft floating footsteps pattered towards him just as he lifted his brush and sat back, sighing in satisfaction. "It's done. What do you think, Shijie?" He asked, turning to let her see the canvas.

Jiang Yanli gasped at the painting. Staring back at her, quite literally, was a set of eyes. The lashes were long and elegant, framing pools of rich melted chocolate. They were astounding, carrying a galaxy of emotion in the finest of details. Shining depths of an ocean of sorrow. Burning comets of deep-rooted hatred. Shooting stars of joyous times that passed by too quickly. And euphoric splashes of colourful stars of love.

"It's breathtaking," she whispered in awe, itching to reach out and trace the patterns of a life lived by the muse of this masterpiece on the fabric. She refrained from doing so. It was not her place, if her suspicions of who the person was, was indeed correct.

Wiping a black paint stain from his face with a cloth, Yanli asked, "Did the dreams start again?"

Wei Wuxian nodded, placing his paintbrush in a glass of water and watching the colour intermingle with the clear liquid, transfixed. "I had one last night. It felt so..." He trailed off, searching for the right word. He settled for, "Real. It felt like a memory, so vivid as if I'd experienced it myself."

Wei Wuxian was a twenty six year old professional artist known for his painting skills. Ever since he'd been a little babe with pudgy arms and steamed bun cheeks, wobbling around on unsteady legs as he explored the world, he'd been having recurring dreams of a boy he's never met from an era long since passed. Before their tragic deaths in a car accident, his mother would always hold him close and nuzzle his cheek fondly.

"Perhaps the universe is trying to tell you something," Cangse Sanren would say.

Little a-Ying could only blink his innocent brown eyes at her and ask, "Tell me what, Niang?"

"Mmm, you'll have to find out for yourself, darling. But remember, love knows no age or bounds. It isn't restricted to the shackles of time. The same goes for soulmates. Since you keep having these dreams then perhaps you are destined to one day meet."