Wei Changze takes Lan Qiren aside, just before it's time for curfew.
"Qiren, do you want to check on A-Huan? He looks very shaken to me, bearing his age in mind. It must be such a shock to him, everything he has found out about."
Lan Qiren looks over to where his oldest nephew is sitting quietly by himself on the edge of Cangse Sanren's bed, not paying attention to the other children's lighthearted banter. Lan Huan seems shrunken, hunched in on himself as if he's trying to make himself smaller.
"Good idea, but he may not want to open up in front of the other two," he murmurs back.
"That's what we thought," Wei Changze replies. "What if we had a little sleepover of our own? I know A-Ren is dying to ask them some questions, but she's barely waiting on you two to leave." He snickers. "We can have the two boys with us. They can help keep A-Ren warm."
"That's a surprise," Lan Qiren says dryly. "Patience and your good wife have been at war since she was born, I bet." He sighs to himself. "You're right as always. It's his bedtime now, anyway."
Lan Qiren bows to everyone and waits until Lan Huan does the same, before they return to the Hanshi. Lan Qiren puts some milk to warm and then sweetens it with honey. The Hanshi is warm from the brazier and the lit candles make it appear cosy.
"Come, A-Huan, let us keep the chill away tonight," he coaxes, patting the spot beside himself at the little table. He's added a little fragrant nutmeg and crushed cardamom seeds to their drinks.
When the young boy sits down, Lan Qiren waits, wondering how to start such an uncomfortable conversation. He wants his nephew to be open, to say what's on his mind, and yet he's reluctant to push. This is an unprecedented event, and for the future Sect Leader, undoubtedly a difficult conundrum.
So they sit in silence, enjoying their warm drinks as the minutes tick by, and the silence grows like a blanket of fog between them.
The drinks are finished and yet Lan Huan looks no closer to revealing his thoughts. Lan Qiren is going to have to take the initiative now.
"A-Huan, I realise I am a poor substitute for your father, but I would like to think nonetheless that you can tell me anything. I hope you know that."
"Mn. Thank you, Shufu." Lan Huan is fiddling with the hem on his sleeve. He looks nervous with what he's about to say. "Not a poor substitute. Better."
"If I was better, then you wouldn't feel so reluctant to tell me what is bothering you."
"Am I a bad person, Shufu?"
Lan Qiren masks his shock at such a raw question, thinking about his answer instead. His nephew expects an in-depth response, and nothing less than honesty, no matter how brutal it might be. Those having been brought up within the Lan Clan have learned early on the power of spoken words, how each phrase or sentence can wound, drawing blood that the recipient is unaware of until much later. The same words used to hurt can be turned around to provide comfort instead, to give solace to those in need, and the knowledge to understand the difference between them is what makes an excellent leader.
But Lan Qiren has no wish to be a leader, he never has and he never will, especially not at the moment. Right now, he simply wishes to make this child feel better.
"To answer that question, we must ask another: what makes a bad person?" Lan Qiren asks him.
A thoughtful expression replaces the anxious one on Lan Huan's face. Good, that is an improvement already.
"A person who wishes to harm another for personal gain, a person who lies, a person who chooses a stranger over their blood brother." The misery returns to his voice.
