Unclaimed (Xianwang)

Waiting for You

Wangji was wondering if he should quit his job, which made Meng Yao call him 'crazy' after he asked his opinion. Wangji knew no other job would pay this well, but also knew that Wuxian didn't have any use with Wangji's skills at a company like that. He didn't want to be a burden to Wuxian, he didn't know if he could ever accept Wuxian though he wanted to give himself another chance.

Wangji sat at his desk, barely able to focus on the computer screen in front of him. His mind churned with doubts...should I quit? They hadn't talked to each other after that night. His skills weren't what Wuxian's company really needed, and he couldn't shake the feeling that staying might only make things harder between them.

Just then, his phone rang, breaking through his thoughts. He glanced at the screen and saw a familiar name from his academy days. Wangji frowned... there was no reason for his friend to call, especially during work hours.

"Hello?" 

"Wangji," his friend's voice was urgent, breathless. "Meng Yao fainted, and we've taken him to the hospital."

The words were barely out before Wangji interrupted. "Which hospital?"

He provided the name, and without another word, Wangji informed Wen Ning of an emergency and rushed out the door, leaving his worries about his job and his complicated feelings about Wuxian behind him for the moment.

Meng Yao

I woke up feeling nauseous again today, a sickening sensation that had haunted me every morning for the past three days. After that night at the club, I'd blamed it on the hangover at first—the headache, the uneasy stomach, but as the symptoms lingered I started to feel the weight of something more. Nausea, dizziness, an unrelenting fatigue. It had become bad enough that I'd taken two days off from the academy, thinking it was just stress. Wangji had agreed, saying I was overworking myself, and perhaps he was right. I had been throwing myself into work, trying to push thoughts of that alpha out of my mind, and  here I was, feeling sick every day.

Still, with exams approaching, I couldn't afford to miss more time. I dragged myself out of bed and got ready for the academy, even though every part of me felt heavy, unwilling. When I stepped outside, the sun was glaringly bright, a light breeze brushing past, but even that slight coolness did little to relieve the pounding in my head.

At the academy, I skipped the usual warm-ups, despite knowing it wasn't wise. I just didn't have the energy. Halfway through the training session, I was demonstrating a move to my students when a wave of dizziness hit me harder than before. My vision blurred, and I felt my body waver. My surroundings dimmed, the voices around me becoming faint echoes. I remember the startled gasps of my students, their worried voices calling out to me as I lost my grip on consciousness and fell.

I couldn't move, couldn't open my eyes, but I could hear them, their voices rising in concern, a faint, distant echo as I slipped further into the dark.

I opened my eyes, squinting against the brightness of the room. It didn't take long to realize I was in a hospital bed, a cool, sterile stillness surrounding me. I tried to sit up but stopped short when I noticed the IV drip attached to my left hand. On one side of the bed, a light-colored curtain shielded part of the room. Through the gap, I could see the doctor speaking in low tones to a few of my colleagues from the academy.

Curious and a bit disoriented, I gently pulled the curtain aside. The doctor noticed and turned to me with a warm smile. "Oh, Meng Yao, you're awake. How are you feeling now?" she asked.