[ The flower, soft and frail, landing sweetly. He catches it in both hands, fingers slow to rise and fortress it, protecting the dying carcass of its form. Like a true flower, burned at the tips by the start of wilting.
He looks up, nods once more. Ignores Wei Ying's earlier question for the exotic undercurrent of his words after.
The girl, in truth, barely remembered. Green eyes, a strange configuration, evoking her vines. Wei Ying, as ever, seems to have befriended the women of the world more closely than Lan Wangji had so far entertained. Kind and lovely.
...was she? ]
Because she is beautiful?
[ Wei Ying's traditional weakness: a gracious smile, a trembling voice, a victim to salvage. Looks are not virtue, but an accident of birthright — trust Wei Ying to neglect that point. ]
no subject
He looks up, nods once more. Ignores Wei Ying's earlier question for the exotic undercurrent of his words after.
The girl, in truth, barely remembered. Green eyes, a strange configuration, evoking her vines. Wei Ying, as ever, seems to have befriended the women of the world more closely than Lan Wangji had so far entertained. Kind and lovely.
...was she? ]
Because she is beautiful?
[ Wei Ying's traditional weakness: a gracious smile, a trembling voice, a victim to salvage. Looks are not virtue, but an accident of birthright — trust Wei Ying to neglect that point. ]