[pfsb] the price of discovery
Oct. 2nd, 2020 08:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lightamidchaosHe bids Wei Ying farewell and steps back through the portal into Cold Pond Cave during chén hour, only to discover that he is not alone.
"Wangji."
Rage paints Lan Qiren's voice in ugly shades, a rage he has seen only rarely but is still all too familiar with. Lan Wangji's horrified gaze goes from his uncle, tall and furious in the position of authority behind Lan Yi's table, to his brother, who is standing off to the side, silently watching. The disappointment and sorrow written so clearly on Xichen's face cuts him to the bone as sharply as if his brother had used Shuoyue to strike the blow.
He bows, immediately, deep and formal and with full honor, first to his brother as sect leader, then to his uncle as Gusu Lan's most respected teacher.
"Lan-zongzhu," he says. "Xiansheng. I --"
He has no idea what to say, but it does not matter, as Lan Qiren does not let him get any further than that before interrupting. His uncle's wrath is nearly tangible, a living thing that lashes at him with words.
"The other night, someone was seen outside this cave, near the cold spring. Sneaking around in the darkness like a common thief. I didn't think it would be you, but when no one else was found that it could have been, your brother and I came to investigate and found you gone!"
He stares down at the stone floor of the cave between them, and does not respond.
"How dare you, Wangji? How dare you! Where did you go? Where have you been?"
He shakes his head, refusing to answer, and maintains his stubborn silence while his uncle seethes.
"Three weeks," Lan Qiren snaps. "You had three weeks left in your sentence, and now this? What was so important that you thought it necessary to behave so shamefully?"
He can feel his brother's eyes on him, and dares not look up. His uncle might suspect, but Xichen knows very well what - or rather, who - he would find important enough to warrant disobedience.
If anyone would see the truth written in his face, it would be Xichen.
His continued silence infuriates his uncle, he can tell. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Lan Qiren's jaw clench.
"Ten blows with the bastinado," his uncle grits, "for every week remaining. Thirty blows in all."
It does not sound like so much, but coming as it will on top of his barely-healed scars, he realizes, it will be excruciating. Lan Wangji feels himself grow cold as his uncle continues.
"After that, you will kneel in the courtyard with the discipline rods, one day for each week. You will practice inedia. You will not sleep. You will meditate on your behavior for the full three days. For every rod you let fall, I will add another week to your seclusion."
He cannot stop himself; he glances sideways at Xichen. His brother's expression is tight with worry, now, but Xichen says nothing.
"Well? What do you have to say for yourself, Wangji?"
Lan Wangji looks back at his uncle and meets his eyes.
"Yes, Shufu. I accept your decision."
In silence, he follows them from Cold Pond Cave to begin his punishment.
"Wangji."
Rage paints Lan Qiren's voice in ugly shades, a rage he has seen only rarely but is still all too familiar with. Lan Wangji's horrified gaze goes from his uncle, tall and furious in the position of authority behind Lan Yi's table, to his brother, who is standing off to the side, silently watching. The disappointment and sorrow written so clearly on Xichen's face cuts him to the bone as sharply as if his brother had used Shuoyue to strike the blow.
He bows, immediately, deep and formal and with full honor, first to his brother as sect leader, then to his uncle as Gusu Lan's most respected teacher.
"Lan-zongzhu," he says. "Xiansheng. I --"
He has no idea what to say, but it does not matter, as Lan Qiren does not let him get any further than that before interrupting. His uncle's wrath is nearly tangible, a living thing that lashes at him with words.
"The other night, someone was seen outside this cave, near the cold spring. Sneaking around in the darkness like a common thief. I didn't think it would be you, but when no one else was found that it could have been, your brother and I came to investigate and found you gone!"
He stares down at the stone floor of the cave between them, and does not respond.
"How dare you, Wangji? How dare you! Where did you go? Where have you been?"
He shakes his head, refusing to answer, and maintains his stubborn silence while his uncle seethes.
"Three weeks," Lan Qiren snaps. "You had three weeks left in your sentence, and now this? What was so important that you thought it necessary to behave so shamefully?"
He can feel his brother's eyes on him, and dares not look up. His uncle might suspect, but Xichen knows very well what - or rather, who - he would find important enough to warrant disobedience.
If anyone would see the truth written in his face, it would be Xichen.
His continued silence infuriates his uncle, he can tell. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Lan Qiren's jaw clench.
"Ten blows with the bastinado," his uncle grits, "for every week remaining. Thirty blows in all."
It does not sound like so much, but coming as it will on top of his barely-healed scars, he realizes, it will be excruciating. Lan Wangji feels himself grow cold as his uncle continues.
"After that, you will kneel in the courtyard with the discipline rods, one day for each week. You will practice inedia. You will not sleep. You will meditate on your behavior for the full three days. For every rod you let fall, I will add another week to your seclusion."
He cannot stop himself; he glances sideways at Xichen. His brother's expression is tight with worry, now, but Xichen says nothing.
"Well? What do you have to say for yourself, Wangji?"
Lan Wangji looks back at his uncle and meets his eyes.
"Yes, Shufu. I accept your decision."
In silence, he follows them from Cold Pond Cave to begin his punishment.
