innocent lotus flower

forever scars

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The twinkling bell announced the presence of a guest. Both Wen Qing and Lan Wangji shared a look before walking down the stairs to the café. In the middle of the café stood a man with a youthful face, pale skin, and round eyes that seemed to gaze right into your soul. His features were sharp, as if expertly sculpted. He wore a white suit that highlighted his frame—lanky but not awkward—giving him an ethereal, almost untouchable quality, like a muse meant to be admired, not approached. The spell broke when Wen Qing began speaking, walking forward.

“Xiao Xichen, I'm so glad you’re here. I’m sorry to call you on such short notice,” she said apologetically.

Xiao Xichen smiled and hugged her. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind. Besides, Wei Ying is a friend of mine—and a former patient, even if it was only for a short while.” As he smiled, the air around him shifted, becoming more approachable. He glanced at Lan Wangji, who had quietly watched their interaction.

Wen Qing noticed and introduced him. “This is Lan Wangji. He’s an old friend of Wei Ying’s.”

This caused Xiao Xichen to raise an eyebrow, but he refrained from commenting, knowing either Wen Qing or Wei Ying would explain later. As a therapist, he needed to know everything in time. He followed Wen Qing upstairs as she led him to Wei Ying’s room, Lan Wangji trailing behind. Lan Wangji didn’t protest being introduced merely as a "friend"—even that felt generous. After all, he had contributed to Wei Ying’s pain. Though he would have preferred a term like “A-Yuan’s father” or “Wei Ying’s husband,” he knew he didn’t deserve it.

Wen Qing explained the entire situation, presenting the vial. Xiao Xichen confirmed it was indeed a drug known to worsen dissociative episodes. He then asked everyone to leave the room except Wen Ning.

“Hey, Wei Ying, how are you today? I’m feeling great myself. The weather’s nice—the sun is shining, not too hot, just warm, like a lover's touch. Would you like to feel it?” he said gently as he walked over to the windows, opening the curtains slowly so that sunlight poured in.

Wei Ying twitched at the feeling of the sun on his skin. His eyelids fluttered but then stilled again. Xiao Xichen moved to sit beside him.

“Can I hold your hands?” he asked softly. A single blink came in response. Smiling gently, he placed his warm hands over Wei Ying’s. “Feel this? My hands are warm because of the sun. Holding yours makes them warmer,” he said, gently squeezing his hands to share the sensation. He repeated this for several minutes, patient and calm, until Wei Ying finally responded, squeezing his hands back.

Xichen's smile deepened. “Do you hear that? The cars, the bikes—ah!” he chuckled lightly as a soft chime sounded. “Seems like Wang Lian has opened her flower shop. And oh, can you smell that? Granny Meng’s strawberry cake—it’s floating in from the bakery. It smells delicious, doesn’t it?” Another blink. A firmer squeeze. “Would you like to see it? Just a few steps to the window, and you can take it all in. The breeze, the sunlight—it’s like the world is calling to you.”

For a moment, there was no response. Then, slowly, Wei Ying shifted, attempting to leave the bed. Xichen immediately helped him stand, never letting go of his hand. He gestured to Wen Ning to cover Wei Ying’s ears gently—just enough to soften the external sounds—before opening the window and guiding Wei Ying’s hand out.

The breeze was gentle, the sun warm. Wei Ying’s blinking sped up as his senses reconnected. He clutched Xichen’s hand tightly at first, but gradually his grip relaxed.

“Xichen…” Wei Ying said softly, confused. As his eyes scanned the room and understanding returned, he added, “Did I…?” He didn’t finish, but Xichen nodded gently.

Wei Ying sighed as he was led back to bed. This wasn’t the first time he had dissociated. He only hoped he hadn’t lost too much time.

Outside the door, Wen Qing and Lan Wangji waited, both visibly tense. When Xichen stepped out and smiled, saying, “He’s better now,” their expressions shifted to relief. Wen Qing went inside, but Lan Wangji lingered, unsure. He walked out to the balcony, plagued by doubts. He didn’t know how Wei Ying would react to seeing him and wasn’t sure he could bear rejection.

He was startled when footsteps approached behind him. Turning, he saw Xiao Xichen.

“Not going in?” Xichen asked.

Lan Wangji shook his head. “I don’t know how he’ll react to me.”

Silence followed for a moment before Xichen said, “I don’t know the details of your relationship, but Wei Ying allowed you into his space. That means something. If he didn’t trust you, Wen Qing would’ve had you removed by now. You know about A-Yuan too, right? All this shows that he trusts you—even if you’ve hurt him before.”

He continued, “When Wei Ying first arrived, he kept everyone at arm’s length. Only his employees ran the café while he remained unseen. Wen Ning was the only one he interacted with. But this past year, he’s slowly opened up. He started to smile more, talk more. I consider him a friend, not just a patient. He’s let down some of his walls for you, which means you’re important to him.”

Xichen’s tone grew serious. “So, Lan Wangji, if you’re not ready or if you know you can’t do this, then step back now. Mental illness isn’t always something that can be cured. Relapses happen. Not everyone can stay strong during those times—and that’s okay. But if you can’t promise to be there through it all, don’t leave him with another scar that will never heal.”