Parallel Yet Perpendicular |XICHENG|

06 | It Gets Better

Lan Huan woke up disoriented.

He'd been to such situations quite a few times to count, but this time around was different. He felt horrible. Pure horrible. The world was spinning, and his throat threatened to throw up. He felt sick yet could not find a source of feeling ill—none but the stuffiness in his chest. At least it was what he could blame.

Provided he had woken up to a different ceiling, a slightly warmer breeze than the freezing cold mist of Gusu, a brighter morning, but it seemed that aside from the surroundings, that thing in his chest, in his mind—the darkness in him—would never go away.

It was naïve of him to think that past the walls of his seclusion abode was at least a temporary rest from his haunting.

Well, he tried. Truly, he tried.

One sigh followed another; Lan Huan breathed slowly and deeply, much like that one morning wherein he had decided to step out of seclusion for the ongoing issue, until his mind gradually cleared. It went on for minutes, and only when the small chatters and the sound of water from outside broke through the fog he had woken up to did he sober up completely.

Here we are. Lan Huan smiled tiredly.

He took time to take in his environment, eyes raking over purple curtains hanging in his room from the lightest to the darkest shade. He was unusually still wearing his outer coat, and his forehead ribbon had remained seated atop his forehead. It was a habit that he'd have them taken off before going to bed. It was odd he did not.

Cold bucket of water doused him out of the comfort he just regained.

Alcohol.

He finally recalled having asked Sect Leader Jiang for rooms last night, then the tea time with the stone cold Sect Leader, then . . . He had been so taken by that moment that he had boldly asked for wine without any regards of the following consequences!

Dear heavens, what happened? Moreover, why?

He could not remember anything else aside from Sect Leader Jiang's raised eyebrow as he offered to pour him a second cup while the heat burned his throat and stomach. After that was foggy, blank even. Heavens. Heavens. Had he done anything? Had he accidentally offended another Sect Leader? Who had brought him to his room?

"Sect Leader Lan?"

Lan Huan's head snapped to the door, heart racing in anxiety. He could not help the shame slowly creeping up on him. The last time he had wine was with Wangji, in his own territory, and they had only been witnessed by Uncle Qiren. He had been embarrassed that time, but his uncle was quick to forgive, not to mention he was a close family member. After the punishment, they went about without speaking of it ever again. As if it never happened in the first place.

It had been fine.

Now, however . . . Not only was he in another's territory, he had also dragged another Sect Leader with him. And how was he so sure that he had not done anything unbecoming and that no one else had seen it?

"Sect Leader Lan?"

He hesitated, although holding the guilt of having done something like this—not answering when called for—to someone.

Under no one's gaze, he pressed a palm on his face and forced himself to speak steadily, "Yes. I am here. I apologize, but may I have a few moments to myself? I do feel a bit unwell."

The disciple behind the door, a Jiang disciple he could tell, shuffled a bit before replying, "Of course. Sect Leader Jiang had already permitted an extended stay. And morning meals had already been served since an hour ago. Wondering if Sect Leader Lan would like us to deliver meals now?"