bang! crash! the lightning flashed!! -- that's another story, nevermind, anyway!

[qingxinling]

Jiang Wanyin sweeps along the shores of the lake, glowering. This is not his beloved Lotus Pier. These waters are cold, foreign, uninviting. Clearly there's been some trap: he's been distracted by duty in this hunt, and when he followed the slight tug in his chest, he ended up getting pulled into unfamiliar territory.

No matter. He draws himself to full height, letting cool arrogance slip down his shoulders and suffuse him. Sandu is naked in one hand; Zidian crackles in the other. He can handle whatever monsters may arrive.

Comments

[qingxinling]

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?! It looks kind of like writing, but -- does this guy even know how to hold a brush? "Good," Jiang Wanyin snaps, scowling even more deeply.

[sagramore]

Definitely not! "Anything else?"

[qingxinling]

"You need to tell him what I said exactly," Jiang Wanyin says, insistent and intent. He'd screwed up earlier; he can't just go back there and say it himself. Wei Wuxian will know what it means.

[sagramore]

"Yes, that's why I wrote it down. I'll tell him."

[qingxinling]

"See that you do. If you don't, I'll -- you call that writing?!"

[sagramore]

"Well, that's what I thought I was doing."

[qingxinling]

Jiang Wanyin holds his hand the way this man -- it occurs to Jiang Wanyin that he never got his name. Typical. He's not going to ask now -- held his, and scowls. That just feels wrong. He adjusts to the proper grip one would use for a brush. Yes, much better. "You weren't," he says. It's almost gentle, for Jiang Wanyin; he supposes not everyone can be literate, and if an illiterate strange man is going to pretend to take notes to pass along to Wei Wuxian -- well. That's just fitting.

[sagramore]

"I apologize. I'll work on my form."

[qingxinling]

"You can tell my good-for-nothing shixiong¹ to show you. He used to be good at that shit when he bothered to make an effort²." Gods forbid this man ask Lan Wangji. Gusu Lan teaching methods are the worst.


¹This is absolutely a slip of the tongue! It translates into older [martial/sect] brother. Jiang Cheng would never in a million years on purpose refer to Wei Wuxian accordingly at this point in his life, but he's distracted. Other typists might choose for themselves specifically how the mansion translator handles the word.
² Wei Wuxian's handwriting is documented as "notably messy" but calligraphy is one of the six arts, which he was also said to have "mastered." This typist assumes that, as da shixiong, he might have helped junior disciples with calligraphy in his past.

[sagramore]

Sagramore is very used to brother applied as a term of familiarity rather than literal family, almost as familiar as he is with the term being applied to someone you don't like but still have a relationship with (Agravain). "I'll be sure to ask. What did you say he looks like? I haven't gotten everyone's name, to be sure."

[qingxinling]

This time, Jiang Wanyin remembers that Wei Wuxian is shorter now. When he holds his hand up, it's more or less a correct estimate of his height. "Wei Wuxian. Terrible hair, obnoxious laugh, horrible taste in cultivation partners? He wears a lot of black. And red. Likes a drink and being unfilial."

Perhaps the things Jiang Wanyin are saying are also unfilial. On the other hand, it's hard to describe the guy. Every single one of the memories Jiang Wanyin has of Wei Wuxian are from before: growing up together in Lotus Pier; the terrible fallout after the Sunshot Campaign; those last awful fights. He barely knows Wei Wuxian's new body enough to describe it to someone else. And he doesn't want to!!! Wei Wuxian has done unforgivable things. There are consequences for that kind of shit!

[sagramore]

"He's never gone by Luo Binghe, has he? --No, that's not possible, you'd never say Luo Binghe has terrible hair."

[qingxinling]

Jiang Wanyin shakes his head, impatient. "Wei Wuxian. Yiling Laozu." A pause. "Wei Ying? Mo Xuanyu?"

[sagramore]

"Is there anyone else he's affiliated with? You mentioned a cultivation partner?" This last quite innocently curious. He has read the welcome pamphlets.

[qingxinling]

Perhaps in addition to being illiterate, this man is simple? "I already said," Jiang Wanyin says. He's trying not to snap, but it's very difficult. Technically, what Jiang Wanyin had said was 'bizarrely obsessed with Lan Wangji,' but surely that gets the meaning across?! "Lan Wangji."

[sagramore]

"Oh, of course, Lan Wangji. That is a man I've met."

[qingxinling]

Jiang Wanyin knows better than to hope Wei Wuxian hasn't been throwing himself all over Lan Wangji here, because he's seen them already, and Wei Wuxian is definitely still throwing himself all over Lan Wangji here. He focuses on the horse; he doesn't want to yell in front of an innocent animal like that. As evenly as he can, he grits out, "Then you will also know Wei Wuxian. They're fucking inseparable."

[sagramore]

"I have to admit, I've only seen Lan Wangji's husband with him once, at the talent show. That ended rather spectacularly. Have you ever seen him tie Wei Wuxian up before?"

[qingxinling]

Jiang Wanyin is a talented cultivator who has long had exquisite control over his own body and its reactions -- possibly since the very start of the Sunshot Campaign, for reasons he's electing not to remember or think about right now. So he doesn't heave at the thought! "Who fucking hasn't," he snaps, and gives this man an intent, pleading look that probably just looks like another, deeper glare. "So you know him. So you'll give him the messages."

[sagramore]

"Absolutely. Word for word."

[qingxinling]

"Repeat them back to me?"

This comes out, to Jiang Wanyin's chagrin, as more of a question than an order.

[sagramore]

Sagramore opens his invisible notebook and reads: "His nephew says he had better not show up on his doorstep half-dead out of nowhere, nor show his face in Lanling should he plan on disappearing again."

[qingxinling]

Mollified, Jiang Wanyin's frown loosens up by .02 degrees. "You may say this message came from Jiang Wanyin," he says, magnanimously. Wei Wuxian will know, but -- he wants to be certain of it.

[sagramore]

"Jiang Wanyin," jotting it down. "So noted."

[qingxinling]

The frown settles back into its usual lines. Jiang Wanyin retrieves his writing utensils from his qiankun bag, and then takes his brush in hand. "You hold it like this," he says, demonstrating: a favor for a favor.