The Mad Ҡìղց

Lan Wanji's life. 11

Days passed in a haze, and Lan Wanji found himself constantly replaying what Wei Ying had said to him. The words felt like daggers piercing his heart, each replaying memory deepening the ache. His mind was in turmoil, and nothing seemed capable of offering respite. The heartbreak was more profound than anything he had ever experienced. Even when his mother died, the pain had been immense, but this... this was something entirely different.

Cheng, was always there, a quiet but steady presence that made the overwhelming burden slightly more bearable. Cheng never pried, never pushed too hard, but he was there. Even in moments of silence, there was an unspoken understanding between them.

"If what you told me is true, why don't you find evidence?" Cheng finally broke the silence after what felt like hours of sitting together, lost in their thoughts. "Victor would have it somewhere."

Wanji took a long swig of his drink before answering, his voice heavy with resignation. "What's the point?" His words were laced with bitterness and defeat. "He won't believe me. Wei Ying won't believe me, no matter what I show him."

Cheng tilted his head slightly, studying his friend with a concerned gaze. "Wei Ying might believe you if you have evidence because right now he thinks you said everything out of jealousy," Cheng said, his voice gentle but firm.

Wanji shook his head, his lips pressed into a thin line as he fought to control the wave of emotions threatening to spill over. "Nah. Don't need him to believe me anymore. My heart... my heart can't take it anymore." He bit his lip, trying to hold back the tears that were burning behind his eyes. "When my mother died, I thought I knew what real pain was. But this—this pain from Wei Ying—it's... it's different."

Cheng, for once, didn't have any clever retort. He simply nodded, his face reflecting the weight of Wanji's words. He didn't know what else to say, so he offered the only thing he could. "Why don't you take a vacation? Get away for a bit."

Wanji gave a dry, humorless laugh. "Won't change anything, would it?"

"Maybe not," Cheng conceded, "but a change of environment might do you some good. How about the beach house?"

Wanji sighed, wiping away a stray tear with the back of his hand. "I'd prefer a change of environment and a change of heart," he muttered, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I love your brother, Cheng. I love him so much. And the more I try to hate him, the more I try to forget him, the more I find myself drawn to him. It's like I can't escape him." He let out a bitter laugh. "I've lost everyone... including myself."

Cheng's heart ached for Wanji. "I know," he said softly. "I know. I wish things were different too."

Wanji forced a smile, though it never reached his eyes. "It is what it is," he said, standing up abruptly. "I need to get out of here for a while."

Cheng didn't try to stop him. He just watched as Wanji walked over to his bike, climbed on, and rode off without another word.

Wanji drove for hours, letting the road stretch endlessly before him, with no destination in mind. He had no appetite, no sense of direction, no desire for anything but the mindless comfort of the open road. After what felt like an eternity, he pulled his bike over to the side of the road and just sat there, staring off into the distance, his leg idly kicking at the gravel beneath his feet.

The world around him felt muted, distant, like he was trapped in a bubble of his own pain. He didn't know how long he sat there before he felt someone tap his shoulder, jolting him back to reality.

Wanji blinked and looked up, hastily wiping at his face, embarrassed at being caught in such a vulnerable state.

"Uh, bike trouble?" the stranger asked, his voice tentative.