Even less so, that which Lan Wangji most desires. He turns his gaze away from Five, at once indisposed and comforted for company. What can he say, when he walks alongside a boy at once child-like and elder? That he is neither crowded nor alone.
They traverse a first room, then a second. Walk into a third, and a part of Lan Wangji understands, peripherally, that the establishment is prey to sorcery — that there is no way so many chambers would fit beneath one room. Yet they did. They do.
The mistress is a pretty young thing, no doubt, as Five, aged to ten times her years apparent. She asks after their welfare. Their purpose. Pays them flattery, pinches words and teases. Gazes far too deeply into Lan Wangji's eyes, like a predator who has rounded upon the prime, plump target, and he says, unbidden: )
A golden core, mature. Prime for growth still. ( Her mouth opens, luscious. He stays her. ) Not my own.
( And her teeth are fine and firm and sharp, feline-like in a grin so pearlescent. Years, she translates. Life.
No. Immortality to come. )
To cultivate. ( Yes. She seems, all at once, to understand. To pity him, eyes soft and head tipped and her grip on her cigarette stick nearly gentle.
One gift for one of equal worth.
He understands better than she expects. )
As many years bought, you may take. ( Of him, he need not say. That much is plain. She nods, once. Again.
It is no small thing. It is not.
And he does not question her when she shoos them dismissed, saying she will send word with her final pronouncement on his request. After, she turns her gaze on Five, to ask if he too brings a request.
no subject
( Nothing, most likely.
Even less so, that which Lan Wangji most desires. He turns his gaze away from Five, at once indisposed and comforted for company. What can he say, when he walks alongside a boy at once child-like and elder? That he is neither crowded nor alone.
They traverse a first room, then a second. Walk into a third, and a part of Lan Wangji understands, peripherally, that the establishment is prey to sorcery — that there is no way so many chambers would fit beneath one room. Yet they did. They do.
The mistress is a pretty young thing, no doubt, as Five, aged to ten times her years apparent. She asks after their welfare. Their purpose. Pays them flattery, pinches words and teases. Gazes far too deeply into Lan Wangji's eyes, like a predator who has rounded upon the prime, plump target, and he says, unbidden: )
A golden core, mature. Prime for growth still. ( Her mouth opens, luscious. He stays her. ) Not my own.
( And her teeth are fine and firm and sharp, feline-like in a grin so pearlescent. Years, she translates. Life.
No. Immortality to come. )
To cultivate. ( Yes. She seems, all at once, to understand. To pity him, eyes soft and head tipped and her grip on her cigarette stick nearly gentle.
One gift for one of equal worth.
He understands better than she expects. )
As many years bought, you may take. ( Of him, he need not say. That much is plain. She nods, once. Again.
It is no small thing. It is not.
And he does not question her when she shoos them dismissed, saying she will send word with her final pronouncement on his request. After, she turns her gaze on Five, to ask if he too brings a request.
Here, at least, Lan Wangji is silent. )