Fluffy WangXian Oneshots

The Hand of the Giver Part 1

"The scent of the rose will always stay on the hand of the giver." Old Chinese Proverb.

Lan Zhan would not give up hope.

There must still be something he could do, someone he could appeal to, to find a cure  because nothing short of a miracle was going to help them now.

XiChen had come home from a night hunt far paler than his usual self, a disturbing look flickering in his honey-coloured eyes, a listlessness that was foreboding.

His clothes had been torn and bloodied, and when Uncle had questioned him about it, XiChen had not lied exactly, but then omitting certain details was the same sin.

Not even a week went by before Lan Zhan’s sharp eyes had caught something.

His brother was bizarrely becoming weaker, stayed sitting down for longer periods of time, and appeared to lose his focus.

They wouldn't have known anything was wrong but for the arrival of a well-timed visit from the one who professed to know nothing. Huaisang came to Cloud Recesses, all by himself and without preparing them for it.

That by itself was a rare occurrence, but then he actively sought out both Lan Zhan and Uncle Qiren.

He had explained that in the extermination of a particularly evil ghost possessing the body of a rampaging elephant, XiChen had inadvertently pushed the beast into a Temple of the Goddess Inari. It was a small structure, more a shrine than an actual temple, but at the same time, there was a crack of thunder and a lightning bolt struck the deity, slicing her in a diagonal half.

Nie MingJue had been there too, and the reason why XiChen had to take abortive measures, resulting in the terrible offence against the Goddess. His brother had sent Huaisang to Cloud Recesses, find out how XiChen really was, because everyone knew how the Twin Jades were prone to downplaying any injuries they may have incurred.

Lan Zhan hadn't seen his Xiongzhang all day, and Shifu suggested they all three go and share a cup of tea with him, ask him how he was feeling and generally take stock of his condition.

But when they opened the door of the Hanshi, it became abundantly clear that something was terribly wrong.

XiChen had passed out.

The healers were summoned immediately but they could find no reason why XiChen appeared to be in a coma, and no amount of smelling salts or attempts to rouse him worked. His body began wasting away, and scouts were sent all across the country searching for cures.

Nothing worked.

Some cures needed time to take effect, and that was the one thing they were in danger of losing.

Lan Zhan tried to be strong.

He was acting Head of the Sect now, and the mountain of work was only growing day by day. Like an unbalanced set of weighing scales, one side was up in the air with XiChen's dire condition, his health declining at a fearful speed, while the other side was sinking fast with the weight of his added duties and obligations.

Lan Zhan hated it.

He was frustrated at his brother too, because if only XiChen had said something, then maybe they could have started searching for a cure earlier. Every morning and every night, Lan Zhan went to talk to his brother, hoping and praying for any change, even the smallest of things like a twitch of a brow, or a finger.

But there was nothing.

His brother's body was deteriorating, and any muscles he had previously were now vanishing under the curse that was eating him up alive.