Changing Weather- I

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While Lan Wangji heals painfully slowly, Wei Wuxian spends his time buzzing with energy at one moment and being completely deflated at another. He spends the day with the juniors, who miraculously (according to the Lan elders) can keep his temper in check; making him look like any common man with a mischievous streak.
No one stops the Yilling Patriarch, the people breathed in the safe confines of their home. Mainly the Lans who still shunned him. If not for Lan Xichen's words that Wei Wuxian was better allowed to be there than unleash his wrath, blood would be shed.

Afternoons were usually a surprise time- sometimes Wei Ying would pop up in a class from the window; throw a question or give a snarky comment and be his way. No one said anything, no one dared to say anything.

Evenings were reserved for small spar practices where if some disciples were lucky, they would spot the man in the training field, practicing sword forms or experimenting with his talismans.
Sometimes they asked to help, sometimes to spar but all the requests were politely declined, ignored if Wei Wuxian was deeply engrossed in his work or in a particularly bad mood.

After that, it was night and only those on patrol duty were seen outside. At that time if someone passed by the library, they would find that the door was still unlocked, the candles still burning and a litany of curses or incoherent words sprouting from somewhere within.
Sometimes they informed him of curfew, sometimes they put a blanket on him. And on the rarer occasions, two more heads joined him.


*
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Winter is the time when everything sleeps. Sadly, it is also the time when old wounds wake up. Even if we want to sleep, our senses are wide awake which makes us hyper-aware of the tiniest feeling— especially pain.

As the clouds come and go, signalling the upcoming silent and harsh times, the carriers of nature's celebration also bring a warning hidden between the folds of torrential rain and fresh petrichor.
With the first downpour starts the first dull ache,a vague sign of sleepy old wounds turning- preparing to wake up.

The autumn brings a mild respite despite it being the dry wedding of leaves. By the time winter rolls on, the nerves are in full alert mode, every drop of blood being kept hot in contrast to the freezing cold and the wounds stretch awake. Even a small cut makes you feel phantom pain, the joints refusing to cooperate like rusty hinges and chains. The old and wounded curse the season with a passion while youngsters and adults just hiss and swallow their hate; all wishing to do nothing but hibernate.

Cloud Recesses is draped in a blanket of snow, the white robes and furs indifferentiable in the blank background. The only vantage point was near the wooden buildings where the snow couldn't paint despite all its tries.

———————

" Wei gonzi! " Wei Wuxian turns to find Lan Xichen striding towards him with a scroll in hand. He waits for the First Jade to come near, before bowing.
" Zewu-Jun.What happened ?"

Lan Xichen's expression was grim. He scanned their surrounding before his eyes landed on Wei Wuxian's own.
He had been doing that a lot these days, Wei Wuxian noted.

His experience taught him to.

" Let's go to the Jingshi. This way we can multitask. " With a nod, Wei Ying agreed and both men headed towards the lone path leading to the silent room,
The Jingshi. Once inside the Jingshi, Wei Ying made a beeline for Lan Wangji's bed. Lan Wangji was asleep, his breathing even and face relaxed for once. Dropping beside the bed, Wei Wuxian stroked the black tresses, braided at the side to keep them away from the bandages.
" Zewu-Jun, may I ask you something ?"
" You may, Wei gonzi. "
" Who do you think is the most cruel ? The future or present ? "

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