Chapter Text
Lan Zhan has only gone out of his sect a few times, which, if anyone asks, he can count on his fingers. It's also a problem that sometimes, while showing someone the number three, his smallest finger also straightens up without his permission, and so he conveys it wrong. But that won't be a problem anymore, because this will be his fourth visit outside with his brother and uncle, and it's easy to fold only the thumb while showing the number four.
But now that he comes out of his satisfied observation, he finds that the white robes of his uncle and brother, which he had been diligently trailing, have gone out of his sight. Lan Zhan is too old to hold hands. This, he has told his uncle many times, all very stubbornly. His uncle had just looked back when he tried to fold his unoccupied hand behind his back and struggled to keep it there. But Lan Zhan is stubborn and tries his best to do what he wants to. So he kept fixing it when it became relaxed until he got the hold of it and proudly started back at his uncle.
Now that also means that he got left behind. His merry mood disperses like fog in late Gusu mornings. He felt a strange and sudden tightness in his throat as his eyes darted left to right in panic, trying to catch even a slight glimpse of the white robes. He knows they are far from Gusu, not in the town he has always visited, which is cold, just like his home. This town is warmer, the sun much brighter than it is in Gusu, even if the chill of the coming cold months threatens to seep into his robes.
He stays rooted in his spot. There is a whirlwind of colors around him. People pass him by as if he was not there.
The tightness in his throat doesn't go away. In fact, his jaw started to hurt.
He doesn't know what he should do now. Which way he should go. He doesn't know where his family is, where his uncle is.
His breathing grows heavier, the moisture slowly gathering in his eyes even if he doesn't know why his throat and jaw won't stop hurting.
Is he going to cry now? Who will help him? Didn't he tell uncle he is big now?
It feels like his family was never here in this part. Everything is devoid of any trace of Gusu, any trace of familiarity.
Maybe if he remains here, his uncle will find that he is not with him and come back.
But what if he had wandered into an unknown street, and his uncle wouldn't know where to look.
He nevertheless looks around for a spot to stand after he almost gets hit by a basket.
There are various vendors shouting and attracting the attention of people, some of them serving out food in bowls to people seated on chairs. There are also some stairs nearby where none of the people are sitting or selling their goods. He goes over there, not fully out of the way but out of the direct flow of people. He keeps glancing left and right occasionally, for a splash of white on the colorful canvas of Yiling's streets.
Though after waiting for some time, his panic refuses to back down. His lips tremble and he clenches his fists. What if his uncle cannot find him? What if-
While so many thoughts crash into his mind, he doesn't notice as someone approaches him from behind.
That someone suddenly grabs his hands
He freezes.
His thoughts stop mid-track and another wave starts to rise until he feels the size of the hand wrapped around his neck.
It's small.
It's small enough that it's not able to fully wrap around his neck.
He turns sideways, to look at the person/child who touched him.
There is a child standing there, shorter than him, looking at him with a slightly raised head and a wild nest of hair. Lan Zhan doesn't notice the rags, nor does he notice the obvious dust and whatnot.
His gaze lands on big silver eyes, which notice his attention and widen like saucers in response.
The child's grip is tight, but the child doesn't notice this as he looks back.
Though the grip does bring Lan Zhan back when he also notices a black smudge over the child's left cheek. Now that he notices this, his eyes fall on silver lines which run across the temples, and the dirty old rags, torn at many places.
"Hello," the child speaks.
Lan Zhan freezes, his mind scrambling for a response. Should he ask if the child is feeling cold? Should he ask him if he needs help? The rules teach to help people in need. But is he also lost like Lan Zhan? Lan Zhan doesn't know how he can help him then. What does the child want? He also seems like he is without any elders.
The child in pristine white robes stood so still at the corner where Wei Ying usually sat in the evening to think about finding his fill for the night. He doesn't know what the other child is doing here... and why is he alone? Did… did his parents also not come back? He backtracks on that train of thoughts and speaks again.
"Why are you alone?" The child tries asking again.
Lan Zhan watches the child speak again, and he looks… worried? Is he worried about Lan Zhan? Is he lost too?
"Lost." Lan Zhan replies, honest, and sees the other child's expression change.
"Did they leave you here?" The child holding him asks hesitantly, his voice almost a whisper, but also so urgent.
Leave?
Why would his uncle leave him alone on unfamiliar streets? The evening is gradually approaching, and the cold is descending in layers around him.
Lan Zhan is suddenly reminded of the fact that the other child is only wearing rags. They don't seem too thick, are short and also have holes leaving a lot of the child's body bare to the chill of the streets.
Lan Zhan is wearing five robes while the other child only has one. Not Fair!, his little mind thinks stubbornly, and then replies to the child before taking any action.
"No." He says, and then shakes his wrist a little to get it out of the death grip of the other child.
Wei Ying sags a little in relief. He also notices the wrist in his hold shake. He loosens his grip a little and then suddenly lets go after he realizes how hard he had been holding the hand. The sudden warmth disappears from his palm and he brings it to his chest, still worried that he made a mistake, and with it, made the other child angry.
It's not like it had been his intention to do it. But Wei Ying understands that people don't like it when he touches them accidentally or touches their things. They mostly shoo him away after that.
The chill of the evening travels up his spine, and he shivers.
He should stop this instinctive habit. It's not like there's anyone who would willingly hold his hand now.
In the next moment he feels a strange warm weight settle over his shoulders. It's heavy, and it stops the cold air from passing between his legs and freezing his body. A breath escapes between his lips. He didn't realize it when he opened them.
But right now, as his body becomes warm, he can't help but stand there in pure bliss.
After coming out of his reverie, he notices the hands on his shoulders. His eyes widen at the touch and the weight they press down as they rest. The feeling coursing through him nearly chokes him.
He looks down at the white robe-
-the robe, which is as white as the-
-child's!
He shifts, regretting ever moving when the warm weight disappears from his shoulders. But he turns back fully, the robe sliding off a little.
The other child simply fixes the robe before coming back in front of him to secure it.
Lan Zhan watches as the other child slumps down and releases a sigh as soon as he drapes his robe over him.
As his eyes widen when he comes back to himself and moves before Lan Zhan has the chance to secure it properly.
"Wei Ying thanks you…" the child says hesitantly, a tiny voice, but it has a different tone to it. A tone which is almost disbelieving, but also on the verge of breaking away from the hesitant note. He is looking over at Lan Zhan with a concerned gaze, but his face seems more open and certainly brighter than before.
"Won't you feel cold gege?" The child asks.
"No" Lan Zhan replies. This finally breaks the dam and makes Wei Ying smile in a bright and unguarded way.
"Gege do you know where your family went?" Wei Ying asks, more desperate now to help the other child out. Lan Zhan and his robes told him he was from somewhere else. Wei Ying has seen no robes this white except on that one old man long ago who had carried a sword. That man had bought him a bun when the vendor had been on the verge of yelling at him for asking for food.
"No," Lan Zhan replies as he tries to think of anything his uncle might've told him. This was only supposed to be an outing for him and his brother. His uncle had some work, so he thought he might take both of them out as well. His helpless situation and the absence of his family crashed into his mind again. He doesn't even know anything here, nor does he know anyone whom he should ask.
But where did that man stay?… was it a place to eat? or was it the building down the second street… Wei Ying is lost in his thoughts, unaware of Lan Zhan's inner turmoil.
An inn! Wei Ying remembers. He definitely remembers that people who carry swords like his parents used to, stay at the inn.
"Don't worry, I know this place very well. We should start with the inns. There are 3 big inns here, come with me" Wei Ying hesitates a little but extends his hand with a bright grin on his face. He is assured when the other holds his hand after a moment of hesitation.
He would help this child out even if it took every bit of his effort. After all, family is too valuable to lose, something he has realized after losing his twice.