The Mad Ҡìղց

Lan Wanji's life. 4

The days leading up to Wanji's descent into despair were turbulent. His world had always revolved around Wei Ying. Growing up, they were inseparable. Even after their parents passed away, they had been each other's anchor, navigating through the loneliness and pain of losing their families. Wanji's father had always seen Cheng and Wei Ying as his own children, and his house was a second home to them.

When Wei Ying distanced himself and left, Wanji's heart shattered. He couldn't comprehend why Wei Ying, the person he loved with all his being, didn't love him back the same way. The anguish of rejection became a wound that never healed. Wanji's father, Mr. Lan, noticed his son's growing sadness. He saw the emptiness in his eyes and knew Wanji needed a friend, someone to anchor him and remind him that he wasn't alone in his suffering.

It was why he called Cheng.

"Come stay with us," Mr. Lan had said over the phone, his voice filled with concern. "Wanji needs a friend now more than ever."

Cheng didn't hesitate. He knew what Wei Ying's marriage meant for Wanji. Though Cheng had his own battles to fight, Wanji was like a brother to him. They had shared their childhood, their struggles, and their grief, and Cheng wasn't about to turn his back on Wanji now. Besides, Mr. Lan had always treated him with kindness, offering support when Cheng needed it most.

"Of course, Uncle Lan. I'll come."

Cheng arrived that evening, and for a moment, Wanji seemed to calm down. But that calm was fleeting. Wanji had taken to drinking to drown out the pain, and no matter how much Cheng tried to bring him back to the surface, he seemed to sink deeper into his own sorrow.

There had always been a family tradition in the Lan household. No matter what happened during the day, no matter the disagreements or busy schedules, they would eat dinner together. It was a sacred moment of togetherness, where they would talk, share stories, and bond. Even if one of them was away, they would call in during dinner and feel like they were still part of the family. But that tradition broke.

Wanji didn't show up for dinner anymore. Instead, he would go out, drinking until he could no longer stand straight, talking loudly to anyone who would listen about how Wei Ying had broken his heart. His stories grew more elaborate each night, his emotions more volatile. He oscillated between bitter anger and longing sorrow.

"I don't know what he saw in that boy," Wanji would say with a laugh, but deep down, everyone knew what he really felt. He wasn't just angry at Wei Ying. He wasn't just jealous of Victor, the man Wei Ying had chosen. He wished he was the one Wei Ying had chosen, and that desire gnawed at him relentlessly.

On one of those endless nights of drinking, Nie Sang, one of Wanji's oldest friends, had enough.

"Wanji, stop," Nie Sang said, his voice firm. They were sitting at a bar, and once again, Wei Ying's name dominated the conversation. Wanji, already deep into his cups, ignored the plea, laughing bitterly as he launched into yet another tirade about Wei Ying's supposed heartlessness.

Nie Sang slammed his glass down on the table. "You've got to stop talking about him. This isn't healthy. You're tearing yourself apart, and it's not just you who's suffering. People are starting to notice. This... this behavior, it's a disgrace."

Wanji blinked at him, his expression vacant, as if Nie Sang's words didn't fully register.

"It's getting bad, Wanji," Nie Sang continued, softer now. "People are posting videos of you online. You're turning into a joke. Your father... your family... they don't deserve this."

The mention of his family stirred something in Wanji, but only briefly. He waved his hand dismissively, ordering another drink. He didn't care. He didn't care what people thought of him, what they said. If he couldn't have Wei Ying, what did anything else matter?