[ They sit, he thinks, too closely to spare room for deceit between them. Wei Ying means to have of him more than is Lan Wangji's to give — questions of Zewu-Jun's fate, the truth of the nuances of brother's health in the wake of seclusion. A fractured state, on Wangji's kindest assessment.
He feels, on the first (second, third) swipe of the tongue, the cracks of his lips, the unpleasant ache of his joints after a day's dig. Means to have little less than conversation, and yet, here they are.
He turns, grudgingly, to open his eyes to half-mast and gaze blearily at Wei Ying, like a spoiled house cat. ]
I cannot deny words to a life-long confidant.
[ True, sixteen years ago, when Wei Ying spoke it first. True now, despite the upset of a misused blood flower. If Lan Wangji can trust any man with honesty, it is his accomplice. ]
no subject
He feels, on the first (second, third) swipe of the tongue, the cracks of his lips, the unpleasant ache of his joints after a day's dig. Means to have little less than conversation, and yet, here they are.
He turns, grudgingly, to open his eyes to half-mast and gaze blearily at Wei Ying, like a spoiled house cat. ]
I cannot deny words to a life-long confidant.
[ True, sixteen years ago, when Wei Ying spoke it first. True now, despite the upset of a misused blood flower. If Lan Wangji can trust any man with honesty, it is his accomplice. ]