Beloved Beyond the End

Part 3

Weiying's head hung low, his heart pounding against his ribs like a frantic bird trapped in a cage. "What do I say? What if I reveal where she is? My sister, Jiang Yanli, everyone will be in danger!" He saw the accusing stares of the crowd, their whispers filling the hall like a suffocating fog.

Lan Qiran, his elder brother, stepped forward, his voice cutting through the hushed murmurs. "Wei Wuxian! Where is Lady Jiang?!"

Weiying's fists clenched. "Master Lan, I... I can't... It's too dangerous." His words were barely a whisper, swallowed by the heavy silence that had descended on the hall.

Suddenly, Weiying blurted out, "Master Lan, I... I am more suited than... than my Shijia. I... I can give her to you. I am the perfect... the perfect partner for... for Lan Wangji." His voice cracked. He couldn't believe he was even saying these words. "It's my fault, I caused all this trouble, if I had stayed quiet, nothing would have happened!"

A cold rage surged through Lan Wangji, making his teeth clench. Seeing Weiying's desperation, he felt a flicker of doubt. "What's the truth? What happened?" He wanted to scream, to demand answers, but the words choked in his throat.

Lan Xichen, with his keen eyes, saw the turmoil in Lan Wangji. He had met Wei Ying years ago, a bright and spirited youth, a far cry from the broken figure before him. "There's something more to this story," he thought, a shadow of suspicion creeping into his heart...

Lan Wangji's anger, though unspoken, vibrated in the air. It was a silent storm brewing in his eyes, a storm that threatened to engulf everything in its path. The hall hung heavy with tension, every breath seemed to amplify the silence. The air grew thick, laced with the scent of fear and betrayal. Lan Xichen could feel the shock ripple through his brother, a silent tremor that resonated throughout the hall.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing. "This is not the Wei Ying I met," he thought, his heart aching. His brother was a force of nature, a blazing spirit, always fighting for what was right. But the person standing before him, broken and defeated, seems like a stranger. How could he betray his friend? How could this storm of darkness have swallowed him whole? A pang of disbelief shot through him, causing his hand to clench into a fist. Could this be the same Wei Ying who had once shared a laugh with him, who had fought alongside him, who had stood by him through thick and thin? He had seen the young man's fiery spirit, his unwavering loyalty, and now he struggled to reconcile those memories with the broken man before him.

"Prison," Lan Qiren's voice cut through the air, sharp and unforgiving, "Until Jiang arrives." Weiying's body went numb. The weight of the iron bars on his wrists felt like a suffocating embrace, crushing the last vestiges of his defiance. His heart pounded a frantic rhythm against his ribs, a desperate attempt to keep himself alive. He looked at the cold, stone walls of the prison, their rough surface a stark contrast to the vibrant life he had known. How could this be his fate? His mind, once filled with wild ideas and boundless energy, felt empty, adrift in an endless sea of despair.

The iron bars on his wrists felt heavy, a stark contrast to the lightness of freedom he once knew. His body, drained of its strength, felt boneless and lifeless. The prison air felt thick and heavy, suffocating him. The walls were cold and rough, pressing in on him from all sides. The stale air was a constant reminder of his isolation, and the gnawing emptiness in his stomach was a relentless, sharp pain, a separate entity consuming him from the inside.