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The first letter arrived on my sixth birthday.
As i entered the Hanshi, Xichen Bofu sat in front of the desk, an opened elegant wooden box in front of him. I always asked him what it was and he told me that it contained something special.
Initially I thought it was food. Back in the burial moulds, the most precious thing we had was fresh food, so my little mind thought it was food being stored for any emergency.
When I was five and starting to form my golden core, I thought it was some famed spiritual weapon for Xichen bofu was the finest cultivator in this world.
But that day, I was slightly disappointed to know that beautiful wooden box only contained 12 letters.
Bofu smiled at my expression. He made me sit in his lap and gave me the first letter.
"A letter for every birthday." He said in his usual gentle voice.
"Will you help me read it?"
"Of course, I will."
And so we spent the entire morning, reading the letter. I was more interested in spending time with my Bofu than the letter. Bofu was a clan leader and had a little or none free time.
But he always spared some of his precious times with me. He taught me to read and wield sword, play guqin and Xiao. Although much of my education, as well as the other Lan's education was handled by the Grandmaster Qiren, some of it was taught exclusively to me by my Bofu.
The terrible penmanship made it even more difficult for me to read but Bofu told me what it meant.
My little radish it began.
It warned me not to climb tress and then the next three paragraphs was on how to climb them safely.
It also told me to eat well and grow tall and be happy always.
I asked Bofu from whom it was.
He was speechless in response.
Later I would know because he didn't know whether Wei Wuxian preferred to be my gege or my father.
(I would prefer 爸爸 (bàba)).
.
.
.
That evening a great many changes happened in the Gusu mountain. Hanguang-jun left his seclusion after many moons.
It seems that he was Bofu's younger brother and i was suddenly afraid that his arrival meant Bofu's time with me would decrease.
That fortunately didn't happen.
.
.
.
Hanguang-jun simply asked my Bofu if he could read the letter once. Bofu looked at me for my permission. I said yes, for it was good to share and I wanted my Bofu to be proud of me. Hanguang-jun took the letter and simply stared at it. Did he not understand that chicken scrawl too?
It was almost afternoon and my Bofu took me to lunch, leaving that non-smiling brother of my Bofu alone in Hanshi.
Midway we met Grandmaster Qiren. I quickly bowed and hid myself behind Bofu's legs. But Grandmaster Qiren didn't notice. He asked Bofu-
"So Wangji left his seclusion?"
"Uncle, he came to Hanshi to read....it. I do not know what he will do next."
They looked at each other for a moment and Bofu took me to lunch, wordlessly.
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.
.
The next year, on my birthday, Bofu called me to his house again. The letter business almost left my mind but then he gave me a second letter.
The penmanship was still terrible and I wondered why this person is not diligent enough improve his writing! A whole year passed and it remained same?
The letter itself seemed same.
The same address of calling me his radish.
Half the content was advise.
The other half was nonsense.
Somehow it felt like the person who wrote me the letter was teasing me.
He asked whether I was eating properly.
Complained that the Lan Sect's food was terrible.
As soon as I read the letter once, Hanguang-jun came to Hanshi like a ghost. He asked for the letter. Bofu asked for my permission. I said yes, as always.
.
.
.
Somehow, the 2 letters ended beneath my pillow.
(Later when there were many, and were getting wrinkled, Bofu gave me an jade box to keep them inside)
Since sharing was encouraged in Lan sect, nothing here was truly my own. Only Bofu and those letters seemed to be mine. But Bofu was a sect leader and he was everyone's go to.
So I kept those letters close to my heart.
A splash of red and black, a toothy smile and radish, my radish...these images came to my mind whenever I used to read them. But nothing else came to my mind.
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By the time third letter came, I was sitting in front of my Bofu instead of his lap. I felt grown up and self-consious. Afterall I was nine.
The letter was of it usual self- nonsensical yet charming.
But that letters final line hit me like a thunder-
If you miss me, look at the sky.
We will be looking at the same one.
I cried.
I did not know why.
I barely remembered him.
Yet somehow my heart hurt.
Bofu was immediately by my side, comforting me. The memories were same-red/black/toothy smile and a lovely voice. But nothing else came. I wanted more.
Who was this person?
Why did he write to me?
Where was he?
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.
Afterward, I noticed something.Every year, Hanguang-jun came.Without fail.
He would arrive before the letter was opened.Sit quietly through the reading.Leave afterward.
Never commenting.Never discussing it.
When I was twelve, I asked Xichen Bofu why.
He looked surprised.Then sad.Very sad.
"A-Yuan," he asked gently, "have you never noticed?"
"Noticed what?"
He glanced toward the Jingshi.
Toward the place where Hanguang-jun lived.
"He waits for them."
I did not understand.Not then.
I understood at thirteen.The eighth letter.
The one where Wei-gongzi described a ridiculous argument with Hanguang-jun about whether rabbits preferred cabbage or carrots.
The story was so absurd I laughed out loud.
Then I heard something.A sound.Small.Soft.
Almost impossible.
I looked up.Hanguang-jun was smiling.Only slightly.But smiling.
The way people smile when they suddenly hear the voice of someone they love.
Like when I hear the voice of Jin Ling.
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.
.
The letters were the one that apparently made Hanguang-jun come out of his seclusion. The reason why he resumed his duties.
I overheard Grandmaster Qiren and Bofu discussing this one night.
Apparently there was jars of Emperor smile sneaked into Jingshi.
Other year, Hanguang-jun was feverish and deliriously branded himself with a Wen brand. Bofu was pale and quiet with grief.
After a few days of his recovery, Hanguang-jun seemed to be normal. Resumed his classes and night hunts, often away to help people with his cultivation. He missed Bofu's birthday, Lan Sect's foundation day or when Grandmaster Qiren was gravely ill.
But he always returned on my birthday.
Or rather for my letters.
On my fifteen birthday, there was a line on the third page
...and ask Lan Zhan about the rabbits! Is he feeding them regularly? Did the black and white rabbits bear many children?I know they wouldn't cause they both are males but still...
Hanguang-jun, the stoic Hanguang-jun at once became excited and asked me if he could take the letter to Jingshi. Bofu was surprised. And I didnt want to be parted from any of my letters so I denied.
Bofu was stunned. He knew how much I respected Hanguang-jun and how obedient I usually am but the mere thought of being separated from my letters made me irrationally jealous and possessive. Nobody told me about my parents or my history so I liked to assume that this bundle of letters were from my parents. Otherwise who would bother to write something so precious to me?
Later Bofu sided with me and asked Hanguang-jun to leave the letters alone. They belong to A-Yuan, he said in his gentle voice which was firm too. Wei-gongzi left other things to you but A-Yuan has only them.
Hanguang-jun looked harried. What did he leave me except grief and longing? He asked Bofu.
Later i asked Bofu-
"Did Wei-gongzi know?"
Uncle Xichen lowered his teacup.
"Know what?"
"That Hanguang-jun would read them too."
For a moment, Uncle Xichen laughed.
A soft, helpless sound.
Then he said,
"A-Yuan, Wei Wuxian knew Hanguang-jun better than anyone."
That answer stayed with me.
The questions came too. Why did this Wei gongzi give the letters to my Bofu?Did Hanguang-jun love this Wei-gongzi? Are they both my parents? What happened to him? What happened to them?
Of course no one answered.
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The last letter arrived on my eighteenth birthday.
I almost could not open it.Because once I did, there would be no next year.
No unopened words waiting somewhere.No future message from the past.Just silence.
I broke the seal.The room became quiet.
The letter was shorter than the others.The handwriting was somehow steadier.Older somehow.
As though Wei-gongzi knew this would be the last thing he ever said to me.
The final paragraph made my voice stop.I stared at the words.Unable to continue.
"A-Yuan?" Uncle Xichen asked softly.
I swallowed.Then read aloud.
"If Hanguang-jun is there..."
The room froze.
"...tell him I am sorry for making him wait."
My vision blurred.
"...tell him thank you for raising our A-Yuan so well."
(He didn't rise me, I thought later. Bofu did. Granduncle Qiren did. And...somehow he did.
l蓝思追 – Lán Sīzhuī
思追 sīzhuī – to recollect and long for.
Someone saved me from the burning of Burial moulds. Took me out of the hidden tree trunk. Gave me a new name and home. Gave me my Bofu. Erased my precarious past. That horrible Wen surname. The Lan registry showed that I was Lan Wangji’s son.)
I heard someone inhale sharply.
Then the final line.The final words.The last thing Wei Wuxian ever left behind.
When I looked up, Hanguang-jun's eyes were closed.
For a long time, nobody moved.Nobody spoke.
Lan Wangji as he was named, Hanguang-jun as he was known, Lan Zhan to his beloved, re-entered his seclusion the day after my eighteenth birthday. Bofu was calm. He knew what the love not returned, felt like. For him it meant lies and betrayal. For Lan Zhan it meant playing inquiry everyday and not receiving a response. It meant hiding jars of alcohol and branding his body in a moment of unbearable grief. It meant seeing a boy, growing up safely, knowing it was what his beloved wanted. It meant opposing the elders and getting whipped.
It meant staying alone, forever with only the memories left behind. Hoping to meet his love in the afterlife. Unable to die yet unable to live.
Unable to love completely.