A Means to an End (WangXian)

Tears Frozen in the Snow

Cold. Like the frozen heart of a winter come to pass. It trickled down from the sky and covered the land in a thick blanket. The disciples had been at the Cloud Recesses for over half a year now. Their time is nearly up. In early spring, they will head back to their homes, filled with knowledge and wonder.

But someone would be left behind. He's always been left behind. Each year with new disciples, he would stand frigid to the side, unmoving.

Winter was perhaps his favorite, yet most detested time of the year. It settled a harsh reminder, bringing long lost thoughts he once buried.

He was alone again. The warming in his heart he recently felt dissipated. He wanted it to come back, desperately. He felt abandoned without that there, though he tried to remind himself that he wasn't alone anymore. Wei Wuxian was there in the Cloud Recesses, still sleeping away hopefully. He is there. He is alive. He has not left.

The thoughts circled, but did not sink in. 

Instead, he found himself kneeling down where he always did at this time of year. Every year, on the dot. He became a statue-frozen and harsh.

His heart longed for the warmth again. The reminder of spring around the corner. A peaceful sign he is no longer alone, but that won't come. Not today, at least.

Lan Xichen watched from a distance with a heavy heart. So many years had passed, yet his brother still knelt in front of his own home on the day that she died. No matter what his uncle or himself could do, they never could convince Lan Wangji to stop. Over time, as he got older and wiser, he no longer knelt at the steps at the beginning of each month. Now he only kneels on the day that she had passed, his body rigid and slightly hunched. His clothes drenched from the beginning fall of snow.

As a child, Lan Wangji would always grow incredibly sick after kneeling for so long in the dreaded cold. There were many times where Lan Xichen himself had to carry his unconcious and fever-ridden brother back to the healers as tears silently ran down his own cheeks. He worried that one day his own brother would bid him farewell the same way their mother did-suddenly and without warning or a proper goodbye.

Although Lan Wangji is much older and has a strong core to protect him from the cold, it still made Lan Xichen anxious. It still made his heart ache.

There were many times when he wanted to grieve with his brother, but he was never as resilient as Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji always continued to grieve their mother, despite the sometimes harsh punishments he would receive.

However, his uncle was even more unkindly towards Lan Xichen. He was the future sect leader after all. He had different expectations and obligations. Any time he would try to reason with his uncle about Lan Wangji, or when he himself would show signs of grieving, it was always quickly followed by harsh punishments.

So, he vowed he would continue to protect his brother, to always give him the time he needed, whether it was to properly grieve, or to think critically before saying anything, or time away from swarms of people. Sure, he still would be punished for it as a child by his uncle, but somehow protecting his brother made it easier to forget the pain of their mother. He would much rather protect someone he still had, than be punished for someone he had lost. Lan Xichen would much rather allow his brother to grieve even when Lan Xichen couldn't.

Lan Xichen pursed his lips. He set a plate of food down beside his brother, though he knew he would not touch it. Lan Wangji refused to eat anything, to rest, or to even move from that spot until after the sun had risen the next day. Then he would get up, change clothes, meditate, and head to lessons as if nothing happened.

Why it became such a habit, Lan Xichen couldn't say. Perhaps it is something that Lan Wangji does not know either.

It's just like everyone says, habits are hard to break.