text | un: wheninlanling

[poorlittlesange]

[two brief messages appear on the network--the first one is unlocked and open to anyone with network access.]

Greetings.

I have recently come into possession of a small songbird and am seeking any verifiable information about how best to care for it. Releasing it is regrettably not an option.

[embedded below is a photograph of a small black bird characterized by a splash of orange colour on the underside of its tail feathers; in the picture, the little bird is perching on the back of a folding chair in what looks like a walled garden.]

After perusing the network I believe the species to be a black oriole (oriolus hosii).

I am most appreciative of any assistance you might be able to offer. This is a small matter, but an important one, for me.

Kind regards,

金光瑶
Jin Guangyao

[the second message is locked to a far smaller audience; the recipients are Lan Xichen, Shen Yuan, and Mike Enslin.]

I have confirmed with the staff of the Red that Huaisang is gone, and have been to his room to gather what possessions he left behind before he disappeared from Trench. The bird was his; it seems content enough in the siheyuan courtyard for the moment.

[text communicates remarkably little sentiment, for which he is grateful; he can't decide how he feels about this.]

Comments

[poorlittlesange]

[in response, Jin Guangyao dips his head in a small nod, takes a breath, and then tries his very best to describe the strange and surreal memory that warped and changed as he and Huaisang experienced it. often he has to pause, to backtrack, not because he has forgotten details--his mind is a steel trap which will never afford him the luxury of forgetting anything--but because he wishes to emphasize something in more detail.

in the end, when he has finished recounting in a surprisingly steady voice his final encounter with Nie Mingjue, he looks up to where the oriole still perches on the tree branch. her song is melodic and simple; whatever she was in the memory, in Trench, she's simply a bird.]

...That is how Huaisang came to have Li meimei. Afterwards, we never spoke about what happened. And now, I suppose we never will.

[pensive, he reaches a hand up towards the bird, who is well trained enough to recognize that gesture by now. she flits down to alight on Jin Guangyao's hand, beady eyes looking at him expectantly for the bird seed he had better provide for her now that she's come all this way to grace him with her presence. and so obligingly, Jin Guangyao offers her his open palm and lets her pick out which seeds she likes best.]

[baiyueguang]

[What Jin Guangyao describes is, well, the Nie Mingjue Lan Xichen was more familiar with. A brash and brusque man, certainly, but not one beyond reason.

But he also knows that by the the point and time this memory occurs, their eldest sworn brother was... no longer the man Xichen had grown to love and respect. He was in his dying months, Baxia tearing at his mind long before Jin Guangyao's fingers so much as touched the first notes of turmoil.

It's still a shock how doggedly he pursues Jin Guangyao, but one Xichen is coming to terms with. One he will never forgive himself for not seeing sooner.

It's a pleasant, idyllic picture, a sharp contrast to what had actually transpired that day, and instead seems to be what Nie Huaisang and Jin Guangyao would have liked to have happen.

It's such a marvel at how little they all really asked out of life, and yet. And yet. Things still ended the way they did.

He watches the oriole perch on A-Yao's hand. His own Little Jewel is perched in her tree and Xichen tries to wave her over. But she is as obedient as ever, and instead flits away in a streak of blue and white to perch on the roof.]

...Indeed. Huaisang asked me once if da-ge ever really saw him.

[He exhales, fingers folding in his lap.]

I didn't know how to answer, because I don't think any of us ever truly did.

[poorlittlesange]

[Li meimei is light as air, but vital and alive, and she keeps one eye turned towards Jin Guangyao, or to Lan Xichen, as she makes short work of the seed she's been offered. Jin Guangyao's lips twist into a thin smile, and once she's eaten her fill and flitted back up to the trees, he sighs as he brushes the excess off onto the ground. he will tidy it up later, if she doesn't get to it first.]

Da-ge saw in others what Da-ge wished to see, and very little else. [his voice is quiet, but somehow harder than it has been prior to this moment; perhaps this is why he never brings up Nie Mingjue, if he can help it. in the jianghu, he'd never have voice something veering so close to a criticism of Chifeng-zun. but they aren't in the jianghu anymore.] It was difficult to find the time to devote to Huaisang when Da-ge's demands were so--exacting.

[a pause, a moment's hesitation, before he meets Lan Xichen's eyes. for a moment he looks almost afraid that even now, even after all they have shared and promised to each other, he will glimpse doubt in Lan Xichen's expression.] Er-ge, if I tell you that even now I still care for both of them, will you believe me?