( ...from a large fish of loose human likeness, who seems barely competent to chase the dregs of their meanings, let alone to assimilate them. Perhaps entrusting him with their secrets is not so audacious, after all.
Lan Wangji's hands slip onto his legs, his lap — folding, neat and prim, while a sigh scratches his lungs. He prepares, then: )
My young son's whims were law unto my coin purse.
( There: an indulgent, self-aware father, robbed at every opportunity by the knee-height thug, his three-year-old infant. Shameful in any circle that values time-honoured principles of discipline, particularly among the Lan.
They need never speak of this again — Jiang Cheng earns a particularly knowing lift of Lan Wangji's brows, 'Say nothing of this' — and the goldfish nods, either pleased or incapable of articulating otherwise.
The dice make their way back on the table.
Lan Wangji, who has been ignored by Guanyin, his dearly departed mother and any lick of good sense decides, decides here and now that he will be a darling of the Heavens and entrust himself to the mercy of fortune again — fingers snagging on the dice, nearly cutting on the edges. He more threatens the air with them than rolls, hissing at Jiang Cheng with finality: )
fair, valid!
Knowledge gathering.
( ...from a large fish of loose human likeness, who seems barely competent to chase the dregs of their meanings, let alone to assimilate them. Perhaps entrusting him with their secrets is not so audacious, after all.
Lan Wangji's hands slip onto his legs, his lap — folding, neat and prim, while a sigh scratches his lungs. He prepares, then: )
My young son's whims were law unto my coin purse.
( There: an indulgent, self-aware father, robbed at every opportunity by the knee-height thug, his three-year-old infant. Shameful in any circle that values time-honoured principles of discipline, particularly among the Lan.
They need never speak of this again — Jiang Cheng earns a particularly knowing lift of Lan Wangji's brows, 'Say nothing of this' — and the goldfish nods, either pleased or incapable of articulating otherwise.
The dice make their way back on the table.
Lan Wangji, who has been ignored by Guanyin, his dearly departed mother and any lick of good sense decides, decides here and now that he will be a darling of the Heavens and entrust himself to the mercy of fortune again — fingers snagging on the dice, nearly cutting on the edges. He more threatens the air with them than rolls, hissing at Jiang Cheng with finality: )
Odd or even?
( ...he's throwing either way. )