these are what have been instilled into him. these are words he contains. born earnest, born trusting— born with traits that would make another ever more susceptible to the world he lived in. were it not for how he was raised, for how he was sheltered from those elements, perhaps he would have been configured differently. perhaps, but it is likely not. lan wangji, innately, wants only to aid. he wants only to walk a virtuous path. for that is what he is, no matter the thousands of rules he has grown up within. no matter anything else.
and perhaps, that is what makes him so effective. back home, skilled in talking to spirits of those left and lingering— fragmented and torn. he knows what there is to ask, to play for them upon the strings. he knows, as they do, that there is no room for dishonesty. it is the price of that language, of qin.
but, he is honest. that is is all he is. he thinks of how it had come to be, that his own countrymen were subject to this. sudden, without warning, his own hands now covered until he may contain it. he thinks of how jiang cheng had clenched his teeth around the words he had not wished to say, how wei wuxian— he does not think more on it. the pause, though slight, is evident. ]
Needs more study to be certain.
[ that much is true, but the implication is there. he thinks so. but, this much he is sure of: ]
no subject
these are what have been instilled into him. these are words he contains. born earnest, born trusting— born with traits that would make another ever more susceptible to the world he lived in. were it not for how he was raised, for how he was sheltered from those elements, perhaps he would have been configured differently. perhaps, but it is likely not. lan wangji, innately, wants only to aid. he wants only to walk a virtuous path. for that is what he is, no matter the thousands of rules he has grown up within. no matter anything else.
and perhaps, that is what makes him so effective. back home, skilled in talking to spirits of those left and lingering— fragmented and torn. he knows what there is to ask, to play for them upon the strings. he knows, as they do, that there is no room for dishonesty. it is the price of that language, of qin.
but, he is honest. that is is all he is. he thinks of how it had come to be, that his own countrymen were subject to this. sudden, without warning, his own hands now covered until he may contain it. he thinks of how jiang cheng had clenched his teeth around the words he had not wished to say, how wei wuxian— he does not think more on it. the pause, though slight, is evident. ]
Needs more study to be certain.
[ that much is true, but the implication is there. he thinks so. but, this much he is sure of: ]
Hand-to-skin.