The next morning found Wei WuXian waving Lan WangJi off to his duties, then turning back into the Jingshi. Taking the journal received from Feng Tian, he settled himself at his desk, paper, ink and brushes at hand.
Taking the journal in careful hands, Wei WuXian could see clearly it had been through either hard use or poor care. The cover was stained and the edges of pages both torn and bent, some showing signs of the fibres fraying apart from rubbing against something. It was a simple book, hand bound and with an unremarkable design, apart from the obvious care that had been taken in inscribing the cover with a loving sentiment, 'Precious Thoughts' in ornate seal script. The calligraphy there was elegantly old school and had clearly been done with care and patience. It was exquisite. Inside revealed a different situation altogether. Glancing swiftly through the pages, Wei WuXian soon saw that while the journal appeared well used it only had entries through about half of the book. The earliest appeared quite neat and the calligraphy was serviceable if not beautiful. As the journal progressed the penmanship suffered until the final section revealed writing more akin to a chicken's scratches than proper characters.
Hah! I'm not so bad, after all! thought Wei WuXian, thinking of how he'd been mocked all his life for his wild scrawl, the result of thoughts racing too far ahead of his brush. The earliest entries were done with a proper brush and ink, showing neat edges and dark marks. As the journal progressed the ink declined in quality, sometimes not even truly black, while the markings became messier. Although the characters were formed correctly, stray hairs made a shambles of what should have been sharp edges, adding a furry quality to the writing. By the conclusion of the small book, the characters were clearly being thrown on the page using makeshift ink and either a worn-out or improvised brush.
In much the same fashion, the earliest entries spanned a page, or two or more, while later entries gradually shortened until – looking at the last few pages – it appeared a scant sentence or two was deemed sufficient. The haphazard scrawl of the final entries appeared more like a list than a recounting. Either time or materials must have been hard to come by... Wei WuXian paused a moment, closing his eyes and sending a prayer to the gods for the woman who had kept the journal, and the husband she had sacrificed herself with for the sake of their children. Please gods, let them find peace... let them know their children have reached safety and will be cared for...
The cover was plain, aside from the stellar calligraphy, yet all the materials –the paper, the cover, and even the silk thread used to bind the journal together – seemed to be of high quality. Wei WuXian brushed his nose, lost to thought. Clearly this journal had been a gift of consideration, a present to someone valued. The lack of ornamentation indicated it was not a love gift, however, so perhaps from someone not as close as a lover – a relative? A close friend, perhaps? It may even have been a personally selected repository for private considerations.
Wei WuXian lifted the journal to his nose and inhaled. Ahhh! I wasn't mistaken, he thought. The faint but unmistakable scent of flowers wafted lightly from the journal, barely distinguishable unless sought. The journal had probably been kept very privately, tucked away with other personal items for memory, such as pressed flowers or similar keepsakes. This indicated that the sentiments within were more likely the writer's private thoughts than those notes kept for household records. Interesting. And Madam Feng had tasked young Tian with delivering it to ZeWu-Jun... there must be something of importance contained within.
Resuming his investigations, Wei WuXian noted the ink had blurred in several places, mostly corresponding to the stains on the cover and edges, so he was able to safely deduce that the journal had at some point been exposed to excess moisture – a spill of some sort, perhaps – and probably on more than one occasion. Again, there was a change even in these marks as the journal continued. Several pages in the latter part of the book were nearly illegible with splotching marks of what could only be copious tears having smeared the ink. Given the quality of the book, the lingering floral fragrance and the care of the earliest entries, it seemed obvious to Wei WuXian that at one point the little journal had indeed been a treasured possession, kept carefully and used with thought. The damage and increasingly chaotic entries indicated a change in the possessor's circumstances that gave the appearance of growing more dire by the day. A quick flip through the pages indicated the descent to be reasonably swift; of the pages containing entries a solid three quarters were of the careful variety, while the change to both the quality and length of entry devolved quickly in the final quarter of the pages.
YOU ARE READING
WangXian Untamed Together
FanficSequel to WangXian Untamed. Two souls bonded beyond death into a second life. They will do whatever it takes to protect their world, their loved ones and each other. Anything - as long as they're together.
