[ The sinking of his heart like a stone in the ocean is the only way to describe the feeling of watching Wangji forget the very roots of himself, and Xichen tightens his hold on his brother's hand as if to solidify his focus. ]

We are of Gusu Lan sect, yes. Cloud Recesses, in the mountains. No lakes nearby save at the foot of the slopes in Caiyi Town. Shushu raised us after mother passed, father is gone too.

[ Gutting as it is, he presses on with what he wants him to always remember. ]

I am your xiongzhang. Lan Huan. Xichen. Zewu-Jun. You live in the jingshi, higher up the slopes, and I take the hanshi lower down. It snows thickly over both during winter when we close the mountain passes, but white flowers still bloom.

[ Xichen would rather be dead than forget these things. ]