A World Without Wei Ying - Part 1 - Reason For Living

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Must. Get. Up.

Must. Get. Up.

Must. Get. Up.

An all-encompassing wave of white hot, burning agony flushed through Lan WangJi, but the mantra in his head and heart was relentless.

Must. Get. Up.

Must. Get. Up.

He opened his eyes. Was this the Jingshi? Before he could focus his blurred vision, exhausted eyes rolled back, succumbing to blissful unconsciousness once more.

Must. Get. Up.

Must. Get. Up.

Aching eyelids again forced themselves open, obedient to Lan WangJi's strong will. Yes, this was the Jingshi. Lan WangJi moved only his eyes, inspecting what was in his sight.

Unchanged. Everything looked the same. Everything felt different. The news delivered before the blessing of oblivion echoed hollowly in a heart now empty of hope. The pain took him once more and all went black.

Must. Get. Up.

Must. Get. Up.

This time the pain in his heart was greater than the agony of his body, and Lan WangJi slowly rose to sit on the side of his bed. He panted with the effort, steeling himself against the torment that was so nearly beyond bearing. He looked at his robes, folded neatly nearby and forced one reluctant hand to fetch them from the stool. Only a foot away and the effort took nearly all he had.

Must. Get. Up.

By sheer will, Lan WangJi forced trembling arms into sleeves, drew bottoms up over legs shaking from pain. Slowly, slowly, with infinite care he got dressed.

"Bichen!"

One word, almost a gasp, and his spiritual weapon came obediently at his command. Swaying, he stood, lurching to the door and outside. The pain. All his being, mind, body and soul, was reduced to pain. He couldn't tell if it was his heart or his body being shredded, nor did he care for the difference any longer.

The disciple bringing food and clean dressings for his wounds watched in speechless disbelief as Lan WangJi mounted his sword and left Cloud Recesses.

Wei Ying. Wei Ying. Wei Ying.

Only one thought in his mind, Lan WangJi flew directly to Burial Mounds. At his destination he stumbled from his sword, falling heavily to hands and knees. He remained for long minutes, unable to move, his damaged body longing only for rest and his heart demanding it move.

Must. Get. Up.

Bichen substituted for a crutch and Lan WangJi struggled to his feet. His pristine white robes were now liberally decorated with blood from the open wounds crisscrossing his back and shoulders, curling towards his chest, but they meant nothing to him. Nothing but the fact they were holding him back. Making it so difficult to move. The grime on his robes, ground into the front where his knees hit the dirt, went unnoticed. All that mattered was finding his Wei Ying. Something of Wei Ying. Some proof that his love had once lived, been real, been here, been his...

Lan WangJi staggered into the Demon-Subdue Cave. Wei Ying? Leaning on the walls, using Bichen for support, he crept around every corner. Wei Ying? He sifted through the debris, searching, searching and never finding. Wei Ying? The pain was overwhelming, and he collapsed onto the flat-topped boulder that had once served as bed for his beloved Wei Ying. Wei Ying? His soul kept calling, without cease. Struggling to breathe, he lay back and allowed the cold stone to provide a slight relief to his burning back. Weeping, he welcomed the darkness as it took him once more.

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