21 and Wangxian?
21. things you said when we were on top of the world
It's an agonizing paradox.
He's Hanguang-jun.
Men and women several times his age bow when he walks by. He commands respect. He's heralded as justice and light and strength and so many enemies have been felled by his sword that he's lost count.
Uncle calls him the savior of Cloud Recesses.
Yet he can't save one man - the only man he's ever really wanted to save.
"Give up this path of dark cultivation," Wangji says, his sword at Wei Wuxian's throat, his words coming out like an order but feeling like a plea. "No one has survived walking down this path - your temperament is already suffering."
Wei Wuxian looks at him with red rimmed eyes, a sardonic smile on his lips.
He's a hero too.
The tides of war ebb and flow with him. It's impossible to count how many people Wei Wuxian has saved with the chunks of flesh he's ripped out of himself - his sacrifices made evident by the hollow of his cheeks, the darkness under his eyes, the way his robes hang too loose on his frame. Their world celebrates his every pound of flesh carved out. They dig his grave and call him hero.
Wangji hates them. He doesn't know what it says about himself that he'd willingly lose this war if it meant he could somehow save this man, but he finds that more and more he doesn't care.
Let someone else be a hero. Let Wei Wuxian live.
"Who knows my temperament better than me?" Wei Wuxian asks lightly, as if Wangji isn't holding a sword to this throat.
Wangji doesn't know how to respond. He wonders if heartbreak can be seen. He wonders if he cuts himself open, Wei Wuxian will be able to see how Wangji's heart breaks for him.
Wei Wuxian sighs at Wangji's silence and closes his eyes, lifts his chin a little to give better access to his throat.
"If Hanguang-jun believes me better off dead, there would be no greater honor than to die by his sword."
Wangji is Hanguang-jun - he is justice and light and strength.
His hand shakes as he sheathes his sword.
His eyes burn as he turns to walk away.
