The Untamed Oneshots / CQL / WangXian

Mafia's Mistake (Vol. 4)

The fourth instalment of the Mafia's Mistake series.

When Wei Wuxian woke next, it was a slow process as he trudged through the nerves in his body and willed the muscles to move. It began small, a feeble twitch in his toes, until awareness washed over him in humble waves lapping ashore and he could feel again, move again.

His head no longer ached. Whatever musician had been drumming behind his eyes had thankfully receded to the shadowy crevices of his mind and lay dormant. He couldn't detect any traces of his previous fever but he was no doctor by any means. Still, that had to be a good thing, right?

The air smelled crisp and fresh, subtle traces of mint and basil and flowers and bamboo lingering on the exhale of Mother Nature's breath that whispered over his skin from what he assumed was an open window. The bed was soft yet firm, moulding itself around his body for comfort. The blanket draped over his slight frame was fluffy and soft, gentle on his skin and heavenly to his senses. Somewhere, he could hear children giggling and a mortar and pestle grind something coarse to a powder.

The epiphany hit him with as much grace as a bolt of lightning, the crash a confusing comfort, because Wei Wuxian knew where he was yet had no recollection of how he'd gotten there. He made three deductions in one thought: He was no longer at the house of horrors where murderers prowled the halls. Which led to the second one, meaning he was safe. And lastly, by whatever means made it possible, Wei Wuxian was in Yiling.

The last one was a bit broad spectrum. Even without his sight-honestly, he hadn't felt the want or need to open his eyes yet-he had a rising suspicion of where exactly in Yiling he was.

Finally he allowed his lashes to flutter before his warm chocolate orbs rose from behind his eyelids like the sun rising behind the mountain peaks.

"Gongzi?" Timid, shy. Dare he say, almost careful?

Wei Wuxian glanced to his left and saw a young man in a red hospital uniform wringing his hands. He tested his voice, tried to manage a questioning 'yes' and succeeded only in erupting in a fit of dry coughing.

The boy rushed to pour him some water before helping him sit up and swallow. The liquid was cool, frigid yet divine to his dry throat, and only when he'd drank it all did he become aware of the aftertaste of honey on his tongue, a sweet balm that soothed the scratch from trying to use his voice. And through it all, the timid young lad had moved with practiced precision, despite his original nervous behaviour.

"Thank you," Wei Wuxian murmured, not trying his luck at pushing his voice too much. What on earth had happened? It felt like he'd yelled his throat raw.

"My pleasure, Gongzi. H-how do you feel, Gongzi?" He stuttered, eyes downcast.

Wei Wuxian frowned in distaste. "No need for such formalities. It makes me feel old." He tapped his nose, a habit he'd picked up over the years, before smiling. "I'm Wei Wuxian. And you are?"

The red scrubbed man looked taken aback a moment before he answered, timid like a field mouse. "Wen Qionglin, but everyone calls me Wen Ning."

The door to the room slid open and a woman with a red uniform and white doctor's coat walked in, face set in a mask of seriousness; cold and unmovable. She carried a chart in her hands and walked up to them, shoulders squared and back straight, proud and true with a fiery air radiating from the core of her being.

Looking closer, one could see a resemblance between the two in red. Siblings, if Wei Ying had to guess, but with completely different personalities.

"A doctor of the family of Wen, a-Ning. You are to be addressed as such." She spat, venom dripping from her voice, yet her eyes were soft. A tough love type of lady then, Wuxian mused.